What really happened at the Winter Meetings
In the seedy basement of a glamorous Las Vegas hotel, 31 individuals held a meeting. The lighting was poor and the cigar smoke poisoned the air. The leader spoke up:
“Finally, the math is on our side!” the leader declared. “We’ll use it to judge the players on what they’ll do in the future, instead of their past performances.”
“What about Harper?” a feeble voice cried out.
“Let him have his mega deal,” the leader answered. “But make him sweat. Hold off as long as you can. He’ll get his millions…and the life sucked out of him!”
The Best Fan
Dave exhibited baseball etiquette flawlessly.
He showed up an hour before first pitch, bought his food early and made sure he got his bathroom visits in.
Dave’s friends were the opposite. They showed up late, bought copious amounts of over-priced, watered-down beer; they were loud, obnoxious and left for a bar around the seventh inning.
Dave stayed until the final out. Before he left, he took one last look at the field and inhaled the intoxicating scents of the ballpark. A group of ushers watched Dave and they all agreed in unison:
There was a place in heaven for him.
The veteran infielder sat next to his locker, overcome with emotion.
He defeated his old team.
The same team that told him they were moving on; that he wasn’t part of the plan anymore.
Money couldn’t calm the sting of rejection. This was about pride and aggression.
With his new team, the veteran infielder stepped into the batter’s box and sent a fly ball over the right field wall. Under the Florida sunlight and the guise of Spring Training, he rounded the bases, pounding his chest.
All he wanted was a little revenge and to rewrite his story.
Smirking at The Bar
Janet sat at the bar, enjoying the ambience.
A man approached her and tried every advance known to humanity. She declined multiple times and eventually, the man gave up and left.
“Wow!” exclaimed the bartender. “Never seen anyone turn that guy down! He’s the manager of the World Series champions; always hangs out here during Spring Training.”
“I know who he is,” said Janet.
“Why are you smirking?” asked the bartender.
“Because I’m an umpire,” said Janet. “I’ll be behind the plate for a game involving his team tomorrow. Don’t be surprised if his hitters have an expanded strike zone.”