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⚾ Episode 3: Shadows and Signals

Draft Rumors, Roster Crossroads, and the Quiet Before July’s Storm

(An OOTP 25 Narrated Playthrough – June 2024)
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Opening Note

Baseball’s middle months feel like a mirage.

You’re far enough into the season to see what your team really is, but too far from the finish to change it overnight. Every win feels borrowed; every loss, a warning.

This June, I started living in two worlds — the day-to-day chaos of managing a ballclub hanging by its fingernails, and the analytical solitude of a general manager preparing for the draft that could reshape everything.

The standings say we’re still in it. My gut says we’re not. But the draft — the draft is where the shadows start to shift.
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June 1 – Morning After the Padres

The first of the month brought two competing sensations: relief from a series win and dread from the work ahead.

As Manager, I could savor the win — Haggerty’s spark, Wacha’s rebound, Singer’s stability returning. As GM, I saw only the gap between us and real contention.

After the game, I stayed behind with Jason McLeod. We sat in the dim light of the office, the field crew mowing patterns into the grass below. Jason slid a tablet across the desk.
“Draft board version three,” he said.

The screen glowed with names I’d been staring at since March — Braden Montgomery, Hagan Smith, Cade Arrambide, Jac Caglianone.

I didn’t say much. Just scrolled, noted, and mentally arranged how the next six weeks would unfold.

Scouting reports were tightening. Mock drafts were solidifying. Rumors were starting to swirl. And somewhere in those 600 amateur names, the foundation of our rebuild was waiting.
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June 3 – The GM’s Long View

We were a team of contradictions. The big club felt tired but not defeated. The minors were alive and productive.

I started the morning with internal calls — development updates from High-A Quad Cities and Double-A Northwest Arkansas. McLeod’s voice carried rare enthusiasm. “Frank Mozzicato’s command is finally stabilizing,” he said. “And this kid Betancourt in Quad Cities — he’s hitting like he wants to be noticed.”

That was the word I wanted to hear: noticed. We didn’t need miracles, just motion.

Later, I approved a small trade — sending Renfroe to Boston for Brennan Bernardino. A salary dump, yes, but one that felt like pruning the dead branches before the summer heat.

Still, part of me hated the optics. A veteran gone, another sign of rebuilding in a clubhouse, trying to believe in momentum.

As Manager, I knew it could rattle them. As GM, I knew it had to be done.
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June 5 – The Cleveland Lessons

We got swept in Cleveland. Three straight losses, each uglier than the last.

From the dugout, I could see frustration building — hands on hips, quiet stares, that invisible weight of “here we go again.”

But the trip home wasn’t wasted. On the plane, I opened my notebook and wrote two columns: Now and Next.
Under Now, I listed every player on the roster who could be moved by the deadline. Under Next, I listed every amateur or prospect we were targeting.

At the top of that second column were Montgomery and Smith — power and precision, two words that defined everything we lacked.

Jason texted from Phoenix that night: “Montgomery’s adjusted timing looks elite. If he falls to us at six, we run to the podium.”

I stared at the message a long time before replying. “We will.”
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June 10 – Rainout and Realization

The rain came heavy, washing out our first game against the Yankees.

Sometimes weather feels merciful. We needed the pause — physically and mentally.

Between innings that never happened, I met with my analytics director in the press box office. We went over projected WAR deltas and long-term models tied to our current roster composition. It all pointed to the same conclusion: this team, as built, couldn’t compete for another year or two.

That’s when the GM in me began plotting July — not just draft picks, but trades. Frazier, Hampson, Wacha, Stratton. Maybe even Lugo if the return was right.
It wasn’t about giving up; it was about clearing the runway.

That night, I wrote in my log: The hardest truth is realizing that managing the team I have means sacrificing the one I want.
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June 15 – The Draft Board Narrows

Scouting season was in full swing, and Jason’s reports were coming in daily. He’d been to Gainesville, Baton Rouge, College Station, and back through Oklahoma.

He spoke in glowing but cautious tones about Braden Montgomery, the switch-hitting right fielder from Texas A&M with real big-league polish. “He’s more than tools,” Jason told me. “He’s got the mind for it — the awareness, the poise. He plays like someone who already knows the cameras are on him.” Behind him, Hagan Smith, a lefty from Arkansas, represented the other half of the puzzle — control and discipline. A strike-thrower with bite. If Montgomery was the thunder, Smith was the architecture.

We sat together late that night in the office, finalizing scenarios. Pick six, pick nine, pick forty-one. Each slot a question of balance — ceiling versus signability.

I thought about all the scouts crisscrossing highways, radar guns and notebooks in hand, chasing the next wave of kids who’d never heard of me. Somewhere out there, our next cornerstone was waiting.
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June 20 – Shadows of July

We closed out the Yankees series battered and bruised. Ragans landed on the IL with shoulder inflammation, Singer fought his command, and Lugo’s ERA ballooned north of five.

The standings weren’t kind — bottom third in most metrics. Still, there were flickers: Witt Jr. heating up, Garcia’s glove saving runs nightly, and the rookie clubs leading their divisions.

McLeod sent one last update before heading back to Kansas City: “The pool’s shaping up like we expected. Montgomery’s still our #1. Smith, Caglianone, Arrambide are all signable. It’s ours to screw up now.”

That night, sitting in my office with the field lights off, I whispered to myself: “Then let’s not screw it up.”
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June 25 – Late-Night Reflections

June ends with a strange calm. The All-Star break is coming, the draft one week after that.

In the dugout, I’m still juggling innings and egos. Upstairs, I’m piecing together the future. The grind has become meditation. Every phone call from Jason, every prospect report, every salary recalculation — it’s all part of something I can finally see taking shape.

I look at this roster and see flaws everywhere. But beneath it, I see potential — maybe not this year’s, but next year’s. Maybe the one after that. And for the first time since taking this impossible job, I feel both versions of myself — Manager and GM — pulling in the same direction.

The shadows are shifting. The signals are clearer now.

July will test whether we can read them correctly.
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Closing Note – End of June

If May was the grind, June was the diagnosis. We learned who we are, and who we aren’t.

The draft now stands as both a lifeline and a statement — the first chance to define this organization under one unified philosophy. We’ll pick sixth overall, with two more selections in the top fifty. The plan is ready. The names are written. The scouts are home.

I can already picture the war room — the tension, the adrenaline, the moment when a young man’s name echoes through a digital feed and becomes part of our story.

That’s when everything we’ve suffered this year will start to make sense.
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⚾ — Todd “BigP” Pollard
General Manager & Manager, Kansas City Royals
“Every draft pick is a chance to rewrite the ending.”
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