January 25, 2011
It was time to formally meet the players and I was admittedly a bit giddy. I'm excited to work with these guys. I woke up at 5:30, showered, got dressed, and ate breakfast and was out the door at 6:00. I arrived at the stadium around 6:30, and like I expected, nobody was there. I didn't think any of the players would show up till around 8:30, but I had to get my practice planned out and make sure everything was organized. I was in the weight room, because it's important to stay healthy during your 50s, when the first player showed up around 7:45.
"Hey there!" I called out to him. "What's your name?"
"Adam, sir," he boomed authoritatively. I could tell he was the son of a military officer.
"Hello, Adam. I'm your manager, John Huitt." I crossed his name off the checklist. "I heard a lot about you, mainly about your speed. That's part of the reason why I expected you to be the first one here. Before you get everything ready, I'm going to need the number you want for your uniform."
"Number 35, sir. Rickey Henderson, who I am unfortunately not related to, used to wear it, and he was my idol." I then directed him to his locker.
I waited about 10 minutes before the next player showed up.
"LOL first," he shouted while running in. He was wrong, of course, and I made fun of him for that.
"Oops. Anyways, I'm Geoff Taylor. I'm kinda an internet geek, if my outburst didn't already tip you off."
"No problem. What number would you like?"
"56, please." He went to his locker and started gluing paper cutouts on it that he calls "rage faces." Whatever...
Ricardo Diaz was the next guy to show up. I could only ask his number, as he only spoke Spanish. "Sesenta y seis, por favor," he said. I was at least able to understand that he wanted #66.
Andrew Nelson showed up next. After telling me he wanted #33, he told me that if I needed any help speaking to the Spanish players, he would be happy to help. He said he was fluent in Spanish. That's very nice of him, and I'll be using his services quite a lot.
Ethan Mason showed up after 20 minutes of waiting. He was even more energetic than Taylor was when arriving, and when I peeked in his gear bag, there was a whole stash of Japanese energy drinks in there! I was able to get him to calm down just enough to tell me that he wanted number 14.
Gomez and Lopez showed up together right after Mason did. Nelson was talking to them and they told him that they were very excited to play for this ballclub, and were in awe of the fact that I played alongside some of their favorite ballplayers. I felt very flattered, to say the least. Gomez chose #6, Lopez #30.
James Robinson was the next player to arrive. He was a pretty depressing guy, saying that "Uncle Jackie would be disappointed in me if he were still around. He'd want me to be in the MLB." He solemnly chose number 42.
James and Emerson arrived together. They were arguing with each other about which form of art was superior. James argued for cinema, Emerson for poetry. After we settled that, Emerson chose 2 because Derek Jeter is his favorite player, and James chose 4 because, well, he liked it.
Zheng Ma arrived. Nobody in the room could speak Chinese except him, but he brought his dad, a language professor, along with him. I told his dad that he can't be around every day, but he assured me that Zheng's English was getting better every day. "Fauruty," he blurted out. I assumed that's what he wanted his number to be. Zheng's dad left after an hour and a half-long lecture to him, which had gone on half an hour after all the players arrived.
I focused on the two new players that showed up, catcher Rex Morgan, who wanted #12 and third baseman Alex Weiss, who wanted #29. Morgan was your typical good ol' boy from the South, and as you might imagine, he had some colorful words to say about the Japanese culture. Weiss, meanwhile, kept showing off his biceps. That is, until outfielder Arthur Collins slammed open the doors and yelled out "Bro, do you even lift?!" Everyone gasped. It was truly on now. Weiss responded by shouting, "Of course I *(censored)* lift! Have you seen my goddamn muscles?" I had to restrain the two players, and Collins made a face that was similar to one of those "rage faces" Taylor had on his locker. He called it the "troll face." I had to discipline both players, and talk to Collins a bit more. He apologized to me, making what Taylor called the "okay face," and told me he wanted #45 before going to apologize to Weiss.
First baseman John Simpson and pitcher Wally Burton arrived. Burton chose #98, Simpson #48. They were pretty big dudes, also from the South. I made sure that Simpson, Burton, and Morgan all had lockers near each other in order to keep them happy.
A very sinister-looking young man came in next, and greeted me. "Greetings, Mr. Huitt, I am Hans Gruber, future robbe-um, second baseman. You shall give me number 46. I must tell you that I am a highly intelligent man, and I will rarely commit errors. So keep that in mind." I was very suspicious of the guy, but he should be a good player.
Cho and Chen were the next players to arrive. I noticed that Chen and Cho were very opposite personalities when they walked in, as Chen spoke way more than Cho did. Chen could speak English, Cho couldn't. Chen told me about how he likely couldn't have made it to pro ball because he throws so slow, and the expansion teams saved his career. He said that he will hit his spots more than any other pitcher in the world, and I certainly hoped as such. Chen wanted #15, and he told me Cho wanted #1. I was happy to oblige.
Blanco came in next. He wanted #54. He kept bragging to everyone about how he was going to strike out his brother Tony, who played first base for the Dragons.
Max Jones was the next player to arrive. He was dressed like Eminem from 8 Mile, and Eminem was who he was listening to on his iPod. I also noticed the tons of tattoos he had and I told him he had to cover them up with sleeves.
"@$^&@%^*()^T$&(*%$^@&(*%$@^*(&%~!!!" was the gist of Jones' reaction to it. I told him it was league rules, and he replied with a "Whatever," then chose #57.
Martinez, Rodriguez, and Perez showed up with each other. Martinez was sweating profusely, as he is not exactly the skinniest guy on the team. I saw some food stains on his shirt, and it wasn't the best first impression you want to make on the guy who'll be coaching you. Rodriguez and Perez looked exactly alike, luckily Perez has some very distinguishable dreadlocks. I hope to God he doesn't get a haircut... Martinez chose #9, Rodriguez #11, and Perez #16.
Wade and Sarfate showed up afterwards. They said nothing, except that they wanted numbers 28 and 25, respectively.
I had crossed off all but 2 names on the list. After 5 minutes, I heard some booming techno music. Two women in bikinis opened the door and two bodyguards were holding a golden chair. Situated on that chair was a guy who was dressed like he was in a video for that LMFAO band. He had green hair, and some sort of glass thing on his left eye. He then stood on the chair, turned around, and did a backflip off the chair. Luckily, he landed perfectly.
"...You must be Johnny Swagger," I said.
"The one and only, bruh. You guys like that backflip? Hashtag SWAG-GER~!" The kid certainly had charisma.
"Now I know why Greene didn't want to tell me about this kid. He's a complete basket case," I thought to myself.
"Y'all better watch out. I can throw harder than anyone in the league. I'll break Kroon's record, brehz! I know what you're all thinking. "How can anyone so filled to the max with SWAG be in my presence?" Well, I can't tell you guys my story. C'mon now. Focus on the now anyways. Hashtag YOLO~!"
"If you're done with....whatever it is you're doing, I need to get your uniform number," I said, frustrated.
"Bro, SWAG isn't defined by a number. But I'll take 99, because it's the number with the most SWA-"
"SHUT THE HELL UP~!" everyone shouted.
"Whatevs, bruh. Haterz gonna hate." Johnny proceeded to get the 2 bodyguards to carry his assigned locker away and replace it with a customized solid-gold locker with "#SWAG" spray-painted from top to bottom. I already hated the kid, but if he throws as hard as he says, and if my perception of Japanese modern culture is right, than he could be the best marketing opportunity the Aliens have.
With that.........event, we were waiting on one player, Erick Robertson. He was making the team lag behind, to say the least. He finally arrived half an hour after Johnny did.
"Sorry guys," Erick said. "I promised myself I'd be one of the first ones here, but as you can see, I'm not so great with promises." Robertson seemed genuinely remorseful. I knew he was a smart man, and I was hopeful he'd serve as a good mentor. He seemed kinda lazy though.
"Erick!" I said. "How are you doing?" "Very well," he told me. "So, I'd like the number 2.0, erm, 20. Is that fine?" "It is yours," I said. "Welcome to the squad."
Now that the whole squad was here, I called the team together for a meeting. I told them we'd be scrimmaging the Lightning and the FreeAgents on the 29th and February 2nd. I told them to give 'em hell, and after the meeting was done, we went out onto the field for our first practice. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I suggest that this is the time when those who want agents choose them.
_________________ COYSHam Bone wrote: I know I'm very late but I just looked at you log (the one in your sig) and noticed one of the teams are the Ham Bones. Nice name. I like it.
Last edited by PowerPro Jr on Wed Aug 22, 2012 11:55 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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