10 October 2051
(Extract from “Des Moines Dreams: A History Of The Magpies” by Lewis Michael)
Chapter 16
This wildcard defeat felt different to the previous ones. Sure, any team could lose a one-game head-to-head play-off. It wasn’t the loss itself so much, or the crushing disappointment that accompanied it, which was the thing. The problem, Billy reflected, as he sat in stony silence in his office after the game was over and even the Iowa Ballpark matchday staff had gone home, was that for the first time, doubt had started to creep into his mind.
When he first returned to the Magpies to become their new GM, he was absolutely confident he could build a championship team here, financial problems or no financial problems. And, after winning the franchise’s first title in 2046, he had of course. But as the club’s budgetary constraints had persisted since, and the list of talented baseball players he had been forced to trade away mounted up, the 2051 wildcard game marked the point at which he lost that unshakable confidence that he would win again.
Objectively, for a team with by far the smallest payroll in the league, 92 wins and a wildcard appearance was a hugely successful season. But after losing that wildcard game for the second consecutive year, it certainly didn’t feel like it. The tribulations of his young bullpen, Billy thought, pretty much encapsulated the barrier he no longer felt so sure he could overcome.
His overall strategy - keeping the best veteran talent he could afford and trading the rest for the next round of youth once he could no longer afford them - was working up to a point. He had never yet failed to reach 90 wins. So he knew he could field a competitive team. But now he was doubting whether his low budget was enough to field a championship team. His strategy meant could get in young talent. And lots of it. But young talent is often inconsistent and has its ups and downs. Sometimes, like this year’s bullpen, more downs than ups. A winning team needs veteran presences to guide the younger players and deliver more sustained levels of performance over the long season. And his bottom-feeder budget didn’t allow for much in the way of veteran presences.
Chris Rueda, the Magpies owner, interrupted Billy’s train of thought by knocking on his office door. “Don’t be down, Billy. The boys did great this year. 92 wins is no mean feat. Revenues were up again. Most of your fellas will be back here again next season, a year older, a year wiser, a year more experienced.”
“I’m just not sure, Chris”, Billy said.
“The immediate aftermath of a disappointing defeat is the worst possible time to start rethinking our entire strategy and plans”, replied Rueda. “We’ll only throw the baby out with the bath water. Take a few days off. Come back fresh next Monday and attack the league again.”
Billy forced a smile. “Sure.”
Rueda turned to leave. “You see that story on the Telegraph’s website tonight?”
“The one saying I was considering becoming GM of the Adventurers? Yeah. No idea where they get that sort of nonsense from.”
“You sure it’s nonsense?”
Billy laughed. “Of course! Come on, Chris. Look, I’ll be straight with you. I won’t pretend that some day, some dim and distant day, mind you, the old “resurrect an underperforming powerhouse” job might appeal to me. But not now! There’s a job to do here and I’m committed to it.”
“Glad to hear it!”, said Rueda. “Seriously, give yourself a few days. If you text me about baseball before Monday, you’re fired!” And he left Billy’s office.
If Billy was honest, taking on a team like Boston - with their money - had its appeal. The thought of taking such a job, if it were ever offered, had crossed his mind. If he could sustain 90-win seasons on the Magpies’ minuscule budget, what could he achieve with Boston’s reported $240m riches?
But no, what he said to Chris was right, he thought. Now was not the time. One day, maybe. But not now.