You are such a doofus, POC. Either keep the dynasty going without these crazy hiatuses or just quit it.
:p ;)
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You are such a doofus, POC. Either keep the dynasty going without these crazy hiatuses or just quit it.
:p ;)
POC, I'll send Schuerholz after you if you keep teasing us. :(
Coach: No one calls me a doofus and gets away with it! I'll show you by posting this part right now!
gosensgo: Well, we certainly don't want that, now do we?
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A quick apology - I meant to have this up last week, but a minor family emergency postponed that. Life outside these forums sadly tends to interfere on occasion, but everything is back to (relative) normalcy and I'm ready to resume. Hope you enjoy the first part of the confrontation!
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17. Number One, with a Bullet
Schuerholz flashed his identification to the security guard. Damned rent-a-cops, he thought, as the guard noted his attendance on his clipboard. The guard thought it peculiar that a National League general manager had such a rooting interest in a mid-level American League game, but he had clearance to enter. He had no idea that John was packing heat: a Walther P88 semiautomatic pistol neatly concealed in a shoulder holster by his dark suit jacket. His target: Will Kane.
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Will was sitting anxiously in the owner’s box, waiting for John to walk in. He was nervous as hell – it had been a long time since he had met with the man that gave him his first break in baseball, and he wasn’t sure of how to approach him.
For a moment, Will was back at college; struggling to get through all of his classes. One of his buddies managed to get him an interview, and Schuerholz was impressed - impressed enough to offer him a front office internship. Sure, he wasn’t getting paid, but it was the experience that counted, right? He spent a few years working tirelessly: gathering scouting reports, compiling statistics, conducting interviews, doing whatever needed to be done to keep the Royals organization running smoothly. He developed a reputation as someone who could be relied upon to handle any task, no matter the size. It was only a matter of time before John brought him on as a paid assistant.
Then he flashed forward to his undoing – the decision to trade David Cone to the Mets. He had pulled the trigger, and destroyed his first chance at his dream. To this day, that trade haunts his every waking moment. In some alternate reality, he might still be in Kansas City, still working with John, and never been forced to sink to the lows he endured in his time away from baseball.
Now he sits in the present day, staring blankly at the field in Anaheim below him. Newly-acquired SP Roy Smith was on the mound, and he was keeping the Angels at bay for the most part. Will sighed: this was why he loves this game. No matter what the outcome of yesterday’s game was, today was a chance to start anew. Man, he thought, there has to be some sort of metaphor there…
John entered the suite, slamming the door behind him, scowl planted on his face. Will stood to greet him, but John pulled out his gun: “Sit”, he said flatly.
The ballgame, one that was Will’s all-consuming interest mere seconds ago, was of little significance to him now.
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18. Adios, Au Revoir, Auf Wiedersehen? (part 1)
“John! What’s going on?”
Terror filled my mind as my mentor, the man who brought me into this business, slowly leveled his pistol…and squeezed the trigger.
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
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