Eagles Soar: A Story From The Aukland Association

[chey]

Aukland is a smallish, maritime country in the Atlantic Ocean. It's been characterized as both North American and European by different people at different times, but neither is technically accurate. It's population today is just a hair under seven million, living on a four provinces spanning three major islands with a combined total land area roughly equivalent to that of Florida.

A British colony with deep French roots as well, Aukland is in many ways a typical Western democratic nation: increasingly urbanized, educated and connected. What was once a country of fishermen, farmers and miners is now a fully modern, diversified economy. Despite recent changes, population growth has slowed to a standstill -- Aukland's population has been hovering below 7,000,000 since the late 1970s -- but the country's vibrant culture and humble charm continues to draw tourist dollars during the short but beautiful summers, when they enjoy the many beaches and parks that Aukland has to offer. They might as well enjoy them: the locals are busy watching baseball.

What was once a highly politicized game (embraced by pro-American politicians and public figures while the conservative establishment favoured good English football) has long since become a singular symbol of national unity, Aukland's common passion. Even today, while America's Major League Baseball falls further behind the NFL and NBA every year, the Aukland Association remains unrivalled in the hearts and minds of Auklanders everywhere.

My story doesn't take place today, though. My story starts in 1971, when I took over the Shelburne Eagles.

[chey]

While I generally believe that the best way to learn about Aukland and it's baseball history is through the story that I've written, I do think it's probably worth providing a brief primer on the Aukland Association.

Made up of eight teams split into two divisions (the Byng and the Connaught, named for two of Aukland's Governors General who donated some of the baseball's earliest trophies), the Association was founded in 1951 in what turned out to be a successful attempt to clean up the game by formalizing professionalism. There had always been "amateur" players earning a salary under the table in the old days anyway -- this just kept things clean. There are also two minor leagues (Senior and Junior Minor), as well as innumerable university, high school, and amateur baseball teams across the country. The Association plays a sixty game season, kicking off in April and wrapping up in late June to take advantage of that early part of summer before the storms start to blow.

Without further adieu, the Original Eight! Please note that all population figures are per the 1971 Aukland Census, and of course none of the images are my original work.


Bonaventure Barons
Bonaventure, New Cambriol
Population: 329,400
Affiliates: Camborne Terriers (SMBL), Beeston Blue Sox (JMBL)

Bonaventure, nestled on the northern French Shore of New Cambriol, is the country’s only significant city with a majority French speaking population. A remnant of French colonial influence in the region, where France held exclusive fishing rights for centuries, the city is a cultural capital for the country’s Francophones — a little more than 10% of all Auklanders report it as their first language, nearly all of whom live along the French Shore. Once an old fashioned fishing hub, Bonaventure today is a growing centre of arts and finance.

The Barons are beloved by both Bonaventure residents and French ethnics across the country, carrying the hopes and dreams of an entire people group on their humble shoulders. Playing out of the aging Stade Langevin, the Barons have produced largely lacklustre results in front of wildly enthusiastic crowds. Six playoff appearances and two championships over 20 seasons, for a cumulative record of 583-620, .485. Their most famous hero was starting pitcher Ron Pedlar, who played almost his entire career in La Bonne Ville, winning 34 games for the Barons and earning six straight All-Star nods.

Les Barons today are a team at its apex; fresh off winning the championship in 1970, they’re built around a new superstar ace. Jose Zepeda, a rare Mexican import, recently joined the club as a free agent and posted the best season of his career as a thirty-seven year-old. Whether the low spending Barons can maintain this competitive run remains an open question, but nobody’s complaining today.


Erneston Crows
Erneston, New Cambriol
Population: 218,300
Affiliates: Strathearn Sailors (SMBL), Avon Spitfires (JMBL)

Erneston is a hard city, a lumber town perched on the Prince Ernest River in the Lowlands of New Cambriol. Its pulp and milling industries exploded after World War 2, driving massive population growth that saw it nearly double between 1931 and 1951 (79,200 to 144,000) and again between ’51 and ’71 (144,000 to 218,300). That growth has already clearly begun to slow, and with more and more of the country’s economy moving to more modern industries, it’s not clear what the future holds for this dreary metro.

The city’s ball club has largely mirrored its locale. The feisty Crows were ascendant in the 50s, winning each of the Association’s first three championship titles. Fueled by Hall of Famer Keagan Middleton (for whom the league’s positional batting awards are named), the Crows seemed unstoppable in those days, but they’ve cooled off since. After five straight playoff appearances from 1951-55, Erneston fell into the second division and, by and large, have stayed there. The next fifteen years saw the Crows make only five postseasons, although they did win it all one more time in ’68.

Nobody’s mistaking the current Crows club at Atlantic Lumber Park for the great Erneston squads of yesteryear. They’re not terrible — a 29-31 record last year could have easily been .500 if they’d gotten a bounce — but they’re also not good. They’re brightest star is SS William Humby, an unbelievably athletic twenty-eight year old who makes up for his light bat with a truly golden glove; he’s taken home the league’s Jon Fraser Medal as the best defensive shortstop in each of the last three years.


Kingsport Capitals
Kingsport, St. Elmo’s Island
Population: 181,500
Affiliates: Chatham Sugar Maples (SMBL), Cuper’s Cove Comets (JMBL)

Kingsport — The Royal City — is Aukland’s national capital, a concession made by the larger provinces to ensure that tiny St. Elmo’s Island joined the union in 1871. Despite the population generated by government employees and associated services, Kingsport is easily the smallest of any city with a major league ball club. It’s also among the saddest.

The Caps are one of only two teams who have never won a title, and their four playoff appearances are the fewest of any club. They’ve managed only six winning seasons in their history, giving the Kingsport faithful little reason to crowd into Dominion Grounds. If it weren’t for government pressure on behalf of season ticket holding parliamentarians, the league likely would have folded the team ten times by now; they were only granted a franchise in the first place after heavy lobbying from then-Prime Minister Eugene Mills. The biggest star they’ve had in Kingsport was Emilio Gonzales, a slugging Venezuelan first baseman who won two Dennis Pederson Trophies as the league’s most outstanding player before falling off — hard. He’s still on the team, and he’s only thirty, but he’s hasn’t hit .300 or double digit home runs since 1966. As first basemen go, he’s average at best.

The good news for Kingsporters? The team might actually be onto something right now. Two of their four playoff berths came in ’69 and ’70, and their star right fielder, Tom Dand, took home a Pederson Trophy of his own last season. He’s no spring chicken at 35 years old, though, and the Caps’ championship window may be closing in short order.


Ottewell Oaks
Ottewell, New Cambriol
Population: 480,600
Affiliates: Baie de Glace Fleurs (SMBL), Gordon Reds (JMBL)

Ottewell was once equal to Paradise in both population and prestige, but the capital of New Cambriol has had to watch as Paradise boomed while they fell to third. It’s still a major centre, though, built around forestry, shipping and shipbuilding. All of Aukland’s lumber, and most of the ships that carry them, come out of Ottewell before heading to either America or Great Britain. Nicknamed Hub City, Ottewell may not be a city on the rise anymore, but it still matters.

The Oaks had a slow start to their history, failing to make the playoffs even once in the league’s first eleven seasons, earning themselves the derisive nickname “Ottewell Jokes”. Their first playoff appearance was a doozy, though, as they won the whole thing in 1962 on the back of an incredible performance by seven-time All-Star pitcher Dave Howe. They’ve been competitive ever since, getting into the postseason in five of the eight years following, although they’ve never repeated as champs. Their all-time record is still mediocre, with a .475 winning percentage and only seven winning seasons.

Last year’s 34 wins earned the Oaks their third Byng Division title, and there’s no reason to think they won’t be right in the mix again in ’71. Star CF Sam Briggs is one of the league’s best hitters, and their Venezuelan ace Marcelino Funicello led the entire league in strikeouts last season. The Oaks aren’t a powerhouse, but nobody’s calling them the Jokes anymore.


Paradise Princes
Paradise, New St. Andrew’s
Population: 784,500
Affiliates: Macareaux Gulls (SMBL), Gap Town Tigers (JMBL)

Paradise is the cultural, economic and athletic centre of the country, home to more Auklanders (and more baseball fans) than any other city. It’s home to two ball clubs — the Princes and the Shrimpers — but the Princes are the real stars here. Little boys all over the country dream of growing up to wear the Green and Gold, of playing in front of thousands of cheering fans at Prince Of Wales Park in downtown Paradise. Both the ballpark and the team are named for the then-future King Edward VIII, in honour of his visit to Aukland in 1919.

The Princes’ six league titles are the most of any team in the Aukland Association, thanks to the extravagant spending of the wealthy Bolen family that has owned the team since its amateur origins half a century ago. No team wins more games or draws more fans than the mighty Princes, and that isn’t likely to change as long as Fred Bolen is alive. Dozens of superstars have played for the Princes over the years, and names like Darren Dugas, Nestor Castillo and John Overby have captured the imagination of children (and children-at-heart) for decades. The greatest Prince, however, is clearly Dennis Pederson, a ten-time All-Star for whom the league’s MVP award was renamed upon his retirement. Pederson played for four teams in his long career, but his best years were all spent in Green and Gold.

The Princes are coming out of a (relative) dry spell, and Fred Bolen has built them around star pitcher Jimmy McCollin. An American right-handed starter, “The McCollin Express” signed with the Princes for more money than American teams were offering, and has won two Paul Sanchez Awards as the league’s best pitcher. Both of those awards came in years the Princes ended up winning the league title, and the fans are already planning next year’s parade.


Paradise Shrimpers
Paradise, New St. Andrew’s
Population: 784,500
Affiliates: Londonderry Archers (SMBL), Point Patrick Seals (JMBL)

It isn’t easy playing second fiddle, but that’s just the hand that the Shrimpers have been dealt. While their cross-town rivals, the Princes, thrill thousands of fans in downtown Paradise, the Shrimpers play in front of smaller, blue collar crowds at Union Field on the city’s south end. Named for the shrimper’s union that founded the club, these underdogs have thrived in the shadow of their wealthier, flashier neighbours uptown. Three titles and seven playoff appearances might not impress the Princes, but the Shrimpers are the pride and joy of their south end faithful.

The Shrimper’s golden age came in the late 50s, as they went to the playoffs four times in a row, winning two titles. Things dried up after that, although a fluke run in ’66 saw them beat the heavily favoured Princes in the Qualifying Series before toppling Ottewell to take the league championship. Third baseman Mark Futral is the club’s biggest historic star, having spent his entire trophy-laden career at Union Field.

Today, the Shrimpers are a reliable contender that always seems to come up just short. Southpaw ace Neill “Whiff” Whimster strikes out more batters than almost anyone else, but the thirty-four year old has become disconcertingly injury-prone of late. He missed nearly half the season last year, and Shrimpers fans are vehement that he’d have taken them to the championship last season if he’d been able to stay on the mound.


Shelburne Eagles
Shelburne, New St. Andrew’s
Population: 276,400
Affiliates: Dorchester Goats (SMBL), Fool’s Bay Frogs (JMBL)

Queen’s Cape is a long, protruding peninsula jutting off of the east coast of New St. Andrew’s, a ragged stretch of land that experiences bitter winters and wicked summer storms. Shelburne is the region’s only significant settlement, a rough-and-tumble mining town that’s experienced both boom and bust over the years. The city’s population exploded from 22,600 in 1891 to 166,400 only ten years later, and the city’s fortunes have been tied closely to the coal industry ever since. Before the War, people expected it to usurp Paradise as Aukland’s largest city by the middle of the century; instead, Shelburnians have watched the country pass them by as modernization took its course. Still, the coal-stained citizens of Shelburne show up to War Memorial Stadium claw and scrape their way to the bottom of the standings.

Shelburne has never won a title, although they have been competitive enough for the last decade or so. Eight playoff appearances are nothing to sneeze at, even if they have been spread out over the course of twenty years. It doesn’t help that they’re stuck in the wildly competitive Byng Division: the Princes and the Sea Dogs have ten titles between them, and even Ottewell is experiencing an ascendancy lately. The Eagles keep finding themselves the poor stepchild of the division, and their .462 cumulative winning percentage reflects that. The team has few historic stars, as truly elite players typically leave for a Paradise paycheque before spending too long on the Cape. 2B Frank Vaillant had a fine, workmanlike career, and his loyalty to Shelburne endeared him to fans, but he’s nothing special as far as legends go.

Unfortunately for Eagles fans, the future is no brighter than the past. Their payroll is dead last in the league, barely half of what the Princes spend annually. After three competitive years from ’67 to ’69, Shelburne tumbled in the standings last season and finished with a dismal 23-37 record. The team is both old and bad, although twenty-six year-old starting pitcher Bill “Boss” Carter is a bright light of hope for a team dearly in need of one. Can the Eagles soar in their third decade?


St. Mary’s Sea Dogs
St. Mary’s, Amador
Population: 560,200
Affiliates: Hants Porcupines (SMBL), Foxhall Pharaohs (JMBL)

St. Mary’s is the capital and largest city of Amador, an isolated province to the northeast of the Aukland mainland which makes up New Cambriol and New St. Andrew’s. It’s also the second largest city in the country behind Paradise, a fact that’s responsible for a fierce rivalry between the Sea Dogs and the Princes. A bustling fishing town, the wharfs of St. Mary’s are constantly humming with the sound of old men arguing over last night’s Dogs game. The Dogs are the only major league franchise in Amador, and the entire province goes crazy when they win.

The Sea Dogs can’t match the success of the Princes, but they’re a close second. Ten playoff appearances and four national championships — including three straight titles from ’63 to ’65 — give the people of St. Mary’s plenty to brag about. And everybody in town loves Jason Jarrett, an aging American third baseman who was the cornerstone of all three titles. He’s slowed down considerably over the last few years, though, and since ’65 he’s spent more time on the injured reserve than on the field at Cambie Park.

Jarrett’s demise has mirrored the fate of the team as a whole, who haven’t had a single winning season since their last championship in 1965. Management is still looking for a replacement for Jarrett on billboard advertisements, with the leading candidate looking like Trevor Bryant, a line drive hitting infielder who can turn a double play better than anyone alive. He’s young still, and has yet to get more than a cup of coffee with the big club, but that hasn’t stopped Amadoran sports fans from daydreaming about his potential.

[chey]

Taking The Reins

I’d been doing legal work for the club for years, drawing up contracts and things like that, although I’d always been an outside man on retainer — brought in for assistance and counsel either before or after the real decisions were made. I wasn’t an institution in the Eagles’ front office. Neither was my predecessor, though: after the last competitive Eagles team disintegrated a few years back, team owner Erik Hunter had gone outside the organization for the first time in forever, hiring former Oaks and Caps GM, Alistair Perron, to mastermind the team’s resurgence; it… didn’t work out. I can’t speak to exactly what happened — Alistair and I never got along, and my influence at War Memorial Stadium waned considerably during his tenure — but things didn’t get better, they got worse. I don’t know why they hired him in the first place: his resume was just a half-season in charge at Ottewell and three seasons in Kingsport, all of them disappointing. Perron had never helmed a winning team, and he didn’t break that streak in Shelburne, where he oversaw a colossal misfire that took the Eagles from 33-28 before he arrived, to 30-30 in his first season, to 23-37 a year ago. That was enough, and Mr. Hunter canned him.

The leading candidate to replace Perron was supposedly Payton Riel, the long-term manager of the Eagle’s SMBL affiliate, the Dorchester Goats. He’d won the Senior Minor Championship three times in his career, but honestly? His best days were behind him. His players disliked him and he hadn’t recorded a winning season in more than half a decade. That isn’t all on the manager, of course, but even in the minors there’s a certain expectation of competence that Riel hadn’t met in some time. Still, Hunter was never famous for making wise decisions, so most folks in town expected him to go back to his traditional policy of promoting mediocre internal options rather than taking a shot on a second outsider. That’s why I was so surprised to get the call.

I guess Hunter figured that my exclusion from the office had something to do with the team’s pathetic results; I’m not so arrogant to agree with him (or at least, not publicly), but I jumped at the chance to take over the team. Running a second-tier team in a second-tier baseball league might not pay much, but there isn’t a man in Aukland who wouldn’t jump at the chance to run his local ball club. I’ll be keeping an eye on Riel, though; I know he wanted this job, and I know that he still wants it. Having a built-in replacement is an uncomfortable situation for anybody to be in.

Hunter hired me as both GM and manager, as is typical for teams in the Aukland Association, with budgets being what they are. I’m confident enough in my abilities as both a negotiator and an evaluator of talent, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous to manage the team on the field. I never even played baseball at a higher level than high school (Let’s go, MacDougall Titans!), so wearing the uniform is going to be equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Let’s just say, I’ll be leaning on my coaching staff.

Speaking of coaching staff, I’ve got some decisions to make there. I’m inheriting my pitching and hitting coaches — Jason Sellick and Corey Gordon, respectively — and both of them have had those positions since the early 1950s. My contract entitles me to replace them, if I’d like to, but I have the distinct impression that I’d do best to tread lightly here: these fellows know Erik Hunter a lot better than I do. If nothing else, I’ll keep them on for my first season. They don’t have terrific reputations, but it’ll be good to maintain continuity during the transition, and both of them are on contracts that expire at the end of the season anyway. I’ll give them a year and then evaluate. The position of bench coach is vacant right now, though — Alistair’s assistant left with him — so I’ll have at least one opportunity to hire my own man, and I already have the man in mind.

Dan McCarthy has been running the baseball program at St. Dunstan’s University for almost twenty years, and it’s a shock that he’s never gotten a shot in the big leagues. His Hounds have won each of the last two University Baseball Conference titles, and he’s been named that circuit’s Manager of the Year five times. There’s nothing flashy about Dan, but he’s a very solid baseball man. You know, old school. There’s nobody I’d rather have helping me with in-game management decisions, and it doesn’t hurt that he and I were old poker buddies. I called him while the ink was still drying on my own contract, and he said yes just as quickly. He’d help me establish myself as a baseball manager, and if things went well he’d likely get hired away from me to run his own club.

With Dan as my right-hand-man, a couple of Eagles lifers on my coaching staff, and an ambitious minor league manager nipping at my heels, I was ready to start my new job. Let’s turn these Eagles around.

[chey]

Surveying The Landscape

Dan McCarthy has one of the pointiest beards that I’ve ever seen. Every time my bench coach/assistant GM/right hand man jerks his head up from one of the scouting reports its been buried in, I’m worried about him taking somebody’s eye out.

“There’s not a lot to work with, here, boss.”

That’s the understatement of the century. The team we’ve just inherited finished dead last in the Aukland Association, four wins back of the next worst team and eleven games back from the division winning Ottewell Oaks. That might not seem so bad to American fans used to a 162 game season, but when your entire schedule is only sixty games? Eleven is a lot. The Eagles were sixth in runs scored, fifth in runs against, and either sixth or seventh in nearly every other statistic. Even the bright spots were mediocre: Shelburne scraped into fourth in batting average, fourth in homers and third in stolen bases, none of which inspire a ton of confidence in an eight team league.

The roster we’ve been left with is both old and bad, a terrible combination for a baseball club. The two biggest numbers on the balance sheet are assigned to players on serious downward spirals: SS Luke Williams, a once-spry infielder who’s about to turn 35 and hasn’t been above average at his position since before he signed the contract. He’s making $136,000 for two more years. Then there’s Wyatt Sanders, who’s still nominally an ace but has developed some serious fragility issues, and his fastball’s been leaking velocity to boot. He’s making $108,000 for three more years and is already dangerously close to being moved to the bullpen. Having almost a quarter million dollars tied up in aging former stars like this is a terrible position to be in, since I only have about one and a half million dollars available to spend on the entire roster. If either of these guys can be shipped out, I need to do it. It isn’t just their salaries, either: both of these guys are Americans, and the Aukland Association limits all clubs to a maximum of five foreign players. Having to spend any of my precious Import Slots on sub-average players puts me and the Eagles at a serious disadvantage. Aukland is a small country; the American players that come here might not be stars back home in the American and National Leagues, but they’re generally impact players in the Aukland Association.

The next big ticket item is a little more of a puzzle. 1B Dave “No Neck” Hearn is making $102,000 both this year and next, and he hasn’t been much of a slugger for the last two years. The difference between No Neck and the other overpaid vets is that my scouts still swear that he’s got all of his tools. Of course, scouting in Aukland is mostly performed by retirees getting paid in meal money, so I’ll take their recommendations with a serious grain of salt. His .250/.301/.392 batting line last year doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Making the situation more complicated is the fact that my top prospect is also a first baseman!

Donny Trainor was drafted in the first round in ’65, and sure looks like a future superstar now. A product of the prestigious Vanroy Academy high school program, he struggled in his first few years in the minors before blowing up a couple of years back. He got a cup of coffee with the big club last summer, and looks poised to beat out No Neck for the starting job at first base in Spring Training. It would be hard to bench as high profile a guy as Dave Hearn, but I also don’t want to set the precedent that I base my decisions on past results, as opposed to present day performance.

The best of my established veterans appears to be left fielder Lew Edwards, a speedy left handed hitter who led the team in batting average (.306) and homers (12) last season. He’s a lock for a spot in the heart of the order, but he’s also going to be a free agent at the end of the season. Part of me wants to extend him for big money — his agent is telling me he wants $900,000 over seven years — but the big, bad deals I inherited give me good reason to be wary of that kind of a contract.

Either way, I’m not planning to make any big moves this early in my tenure. I’ll patch the holes that I see as glaring, but I also want to ease myself into this new role. From my vantage point, the biggest of those glaring holes is behind the plate: I’ve got a handful of backstops on the roster, but none of them have any history of excellence (or even of mediocrity). Young Joe Cheatham grabbed the starting job last year, but his .247/.302/.328 hitting line is bad even for a catcher, and he’s American to boot: talk about a waste of an import slot.

It’s late in the year to be making moves, of course. Hunter only made up his mind to hire me over the Christmas break, which means that most of the valuable free agents had already been snapped up by the time I took over the team. I do have my sights set on one guy, though. An American catcher named Andy Duthu was recently let go by the Cleveland Indians organization, and his agent is putting out feelers in Aukland. My scouts think he could be an All-Star over here, though there are rumours that his fiery personality led to the parting of ways with Cleveland. I’m not terribly worried about his temperament: if it scares off the deeper pocketed clubs and makes him affordable on a Shelburne budget, all the better for me. I called his agent and offered him $380,000 over four years.

On the pitching side of things, the Eagles seem to be middle of the pack. None of our starters are terrible, though only one of them appears to be above average. That would be 26 year old Bill “Boss” Carter. Boss emerged as a starter three years ago, and since then he’s recorded ERAs of 2.26, 2.43 and 3.17 while regularly going all nine innings. My predecessor extended him early, in what was the one inspired move of his tenure, so he’s locked up through the 1975 season for reasonable dollars. After him, though? I’ve got enough arms to get me through the season, but adding a strong #2 starter would do a lot to help me sleep at night.

The bullpen is similarly mediocre. Kelly Fisher is the nominal closer, but he walks a lot of batters and is also American; my predecessor was clearly too fast and loose with his Import Slots, because blowing one on an average-ish reliever is a textbook example of what not to do. The smartest move in the Aukland Association is to minimize your foreign born roster players while other teams load up, then grab the stars that your rivals aren’t allowed to add.


An aerial view of downtown Shelburne, circa 1971

[chey]

Troubles Foreign and Domestic

Duthu’s agent took his sweet time, but nobody else topped our offer so I got my man about a month before Spring Training started. I was excited about the news, as adding a potential cleanup hitter who can also play catcher solved two problems at once. It did, however, raise another: I had too many Americans on my roster. Those Import Slots are limited, and I didn’t want to be stuck trying to shed foreigners on the eve of Opening Day. Here’s what my 40-man roster’s Import situation looked like, after adding C Andy Duthu:

SP Mike Hovda, American
SP John Williams, American
SP Wyatt Sanders, American
RP Bobby Gilbert, American
RP Kelly Fisher, American
C Andy Duthu, American
C Jordan Menchaca, Mexican
2B Bill Keough, Canadian
SS Luke Williams, American

That’s nine, and I can only get away with five. I’d tried shopping Sanders, but he had sustained some kind of a shoulder injury late last year and nobody was willing to touch him until he could pass a physical. For now I’d put him on the Injured List, which didn’t count against my slots; it didn’t really solve the problem long-term, but it did kick the can down the road.

The easiest guys to part with would be Menchaca, a depth catcher unlikely to see game action, and the two relievers. Fisher and Gilbert were both serviceable relief men, but I don’t like using Import Slots on bullpen arms that could be replaced without much trouble, so I started shopping them both. A few teams were interested, but things got hot and heavy fast with Kingsport.

The Caps were unhappy with their veteran ace, a southpaw by the name of Frank Thompson. He’s getting paid handsomely, but he’s a workhorse you can count on to eat up innings and, importantly, he’s an Auklander. I suspect there was some kind of personal issue there, because I got the Capitals to eat 65% of his $138,000 salary in exchange for Fisher, Menchaca and a throw-in, catcher Joe Cheatham. I didn’t have to move Cheatham, but he’d become redundant with the Duthu acquisition, so I paid the price and started brainstorming about ways to get rid of Gilbert. I had Dan, my AGM, work the phones for a while, but it seemed like most teams were in a similar position to us: too many Americans, not enough slots. Eventually we decided to try waiving him: worst case scenario, we lose him for free, but given the market I had a feeling we’d be able to get him safely into the minors. Turns out I was right.

And now we were set. I might regret moving these guys come June, when I look to my bullpen and see a bunch of worn down arms, but that can be a problem for tomorrow.

—

I made one more move that’s worth talking about, mostly because it made me so happy. I’d gotten a call from Frank Vaillant after my hiring was announced. In case you’ve been living under a rock, Vaillant is known as “Mr. Eagle” around these parts. He’d played fifteen years in the Aukland Association, retiring midway through the ’69 season after a long and storied career spent entirely in Shelburne. He hadn’t been a superstar, which made him perfect for the Eagles: anyone truly impressive would have surely been snapped up by Paradise or St. Mary’s after a couple big seasons. Vaillant could have gone elsewhere, but he loved to wear the Purple and Gold — that made him a hero to the Shelburne faithful.

Anyway, Vaillant had been frozen out in retirement by my predecessor, who I suspect didn’t like the idea of having such a popular figure overshadowing him. Now that he was gone, Frank was hoping to get a job as a scout, or even as a goodwill ambassador for the team. I told Vaillant that I liked the idea but needed to think about it, and then I started to smile, because I had an idea.

My chief rival for the GM+manager job here had been Payton Riel, a tough old duck who’d been managing our Senior Minor club, the Dorchester Goats, since the early 1950s. He hadn’t liked that I’d gotten the big job, and wasn’t afraid to tell the newspapers that he’d be “around, in case the Eagles should decide they want a real baseball man in charge”. I figured I might be able to get Frank Vaillant a better paying job than “scout”.

My first call was to Scotty Blumberg, the affable manager of our Junior Minor team. He’d been in charge of the Fool’s Bay Frogs for two full decades, and I thought he’d earned himself a promotion (he hadn’t, really, but it suited my purposes to tell ownership that he had). Scotty nearly **** himself when I asked if he’d like to take a shot at running the Senior Minor club. Junior Minor League managing was a part-time job, something you did to stay in touch with the game and to brag about at parties; Senior Minor ball was one step away from the big league, and it paid a fair wage to go along with the prestige. Scotty was beside himself.

Then I called Frank back, and told him I’d like him to take a stab at managing the Frogs. He was happy, too — the Frogs weren’t a big time job, but it sure beat the hell out of the high school coaching gigs he was being offered (and he wouldn’t have to teach driver’s education as part of the deal). I made it clear to him that this was an entry-level job, with plenty of room to move up; Scotty was a useful tool to shove out my rival, but I’d be happy enough to replace him, too, once Vaillant had found his managerial footing.

With the two moves lined up, ownership was happy enough to sign off. Firing Riel would have been a tough sell on its own, but when presented with the opportunity to bring a beloved Eagles icon into the fold, Mr. Hunter couldn’t be happier. The hiring would garner some goodwill in the community, and if it got me some job security too? All the better.