[Westheim]

Disclaimer: I don’t speak any Spanish, and all the Spanish contained in this thread has been Google translated and is probably wrong.

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The last week of October was dreadful. Cookie had invited a few of his brothers to Portland and showed them around the park and the clubhouse.

They found me in the locker room. On one of the walls there we had framed, game-worn jerseys from a number of former Portland greats. Whenever I felt like I was alone in the premises I would go down there and take the framed jersey of Daniel Hall from the wall, sit down on one of the benches and just hold onto it.

Slappy, holding a mop like it had something to do with his job, unlocked one of the doors for Cookie’s group and so they found me there. Cookie, two guys about 20 years old in brand new jeans, Raccoons shirts and caps, and his youngest brother Cristiano, who was about 12, and was in a wheelchair. Cookie smiled. ‘Hi, Mr. Westfield!’ he said, turned to them and told them ‘Este es el Senor Westfield’. I couldn’t say anything and just held onto the frame with the Hall jersey before one of the older guys kissed a tiny silver cross he was wearing on a thin chain around his neck, the other exclaimed ‘Dios mio!’, and Cristiano came rolling towards me, popped a wheelie and exclaimed, ‘Look, Senor Westfield! Me got … una silla de ruedas nueva! Incluso tiene cuatro ruedas!”

I cracked, jumped up, and – still mangling the frame in my arms – ran out through the other door, crying.

That wasn’t even the worst bit. After melting down on the couch in my office, Slappy came in about an hour later and found me sucking my thumb. Without much ado, he went straight to where I had hidden the liquor, forewent bothering with a glass and just drank straight from the bottle before wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his very clean uniform. ‘Mena wants to see you, sir. There’s something with Carmona. He walked right into a door and now his vision is blurry again.’

Just like mine after too much crying, but – say, Druid – how’s that concussion of Cookie healing? Not too great, I hear.

While that was going on, the Prick’s selected scout, Tomás Moralis, didn’t arrive. He should have been here on the 24th, three days before Cookie’s set back with the concussion. The day after that I was in the hospital with Cookie, who was not 100% in control of himself and asked me, ‘Tía Teresa, Tía Teresa. Podré bailar de nuevo?’

It was right there, holding the hand of an awesome 25-year old centerfielder whose brain was slowly turning to broccoli, that Maud called be on my cell phone. The FBI had appeared in the office and they had a few questions.

Cookie’s room was on the second floor. Probably not enough to suffer fatal injuries, and the thing with hospitals was that usually medical professionals would be close by. So I drove back to the park. On the way in I saw Matt Nunley, who was here for a contract talk, playing (with his right hand still in a splint) left-handed catch with Cristiano outside the rear entrance to the clubhouse. When he saw me, Cristiano stopped his throwing motion and instead waved at me, smiling across the entire face. ‘Senor Westfield, Senor Westfield! Que tengas un buen diá!’. I waved back, but I was thankfully completely hollowed out inside by now and couldn’t even cry anymore. Matt Nunley also had keen eyes, shouting over that the Hall jersey was missing from the locker room. ‘Yeah’, I replied. ‘I already heard about that…’

Thankfully the FBI wasn’t there for what I though they were. Turns out that I will not go to prison after all for producing that bad check over $41.75 to our former air pump supplier back in 2002 – those had been some hard times.

Nope, turns out that two days ago a burnt out car with a body inside had been found near a highway in Arizona, with the deceased occupant identified as Tomás Moralis, who – they had somehow found out – had been on his way to this very address. Well, first: the Prick will not be amused. Second, am I next? Oh please, can I be next?? In the event, none of us proved very helpful in this case. None of us had ever seen Moralis before, nor had talked to him. Now I needed to find a new scout.

Madness cast aside, there was also some ‘normal’ baseball business going on. We signed a few arbitration cases in late October. Matt Nunley signed for $420k, John Korb for $440k (that one was more expensive than I had hoped for), and Manobu Sugano for $375k.

I am also in a horrendous spot with Jonny Toner, who is seeking a long-term contract (9-yr, $25M more or less), but the Raccoons can’t agree to that – the ABL doesn’t allow it. Since cost control is a premium target for the league to ensure all franchises are healthy (Loggers, anyone?), teams are strictly forbidden from adding more commitments if they were already overbudget (which we were, rampantly), and Jonny’s proposal would not only set us back further for 2017, but would also blow us out of the 2018 waters.

That one sucked, and Jonny had to sign a 1-yr, $900k contract. He was pretty pissed about it, and you normally never want to piss off your best pitcher.* Chris Mathis ($240k) and Shane Walter ($250k) also signed 1-year deals in early November.

I also managed to pull off a major coup in my few sane moments and snatched up Ken Richardson as new pitching coach. He had been the Crusaders’ pitching coach since 2009, coaching that staff to routinely great results.

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In miscellaneous news about the cruelty of the world, NYC SP Fernando Cruz (120-128, 4.02 ERA) had his kneecap broken with – irony! – a baseball bat in a mugging attempt. He will have to spend the entire offseason rehabbing and might not be ready for Opening Day in ’17.

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2016 ABL AWARDS

Players of the Year: DAL OF/1B Hugo Mendoza (.350, 37 HR, 134 RBI) and VAN 1B Ray Gilbert (.335, 30 HR, 104 RBI)
Pitchers of the Year: LAP SP Brad Smith (17-8, 2.56 ERA) and VAN SP Samuel McMullen (20-7, 2.10 ERA)
Relievers of the Year: LAP CL Arturo Lopez (5-3, 1.07 ERA, 43 SV) and NYC CL Salvadaro Soure (7-1, 1.21 ERA, 45 SV)
Rookies of the Year: PIT 2B/SS Tim Prince (.260, 8 HR, 78 RBI) and MIL OF/1B Chris LeMoine (.259, 25 HR, 67 RBI)
Platinum Sticks (FL): P PIT Jeremiah Bowman, C WAS Jose Flores, 1B SFW Stanley Murphy, 2B WAS Ieyoshi Nomura, 3B SAC Jason LaCombe, SS NAS Andrew Showalter, LF SFW Jose Morales, CF LAP Jimmy Roberts, RF DAL Hugo Mendoza
Platinum Sticks (CL): P POR Jonathan Toner, C CHA Ryan Holliman, 1B VAN Ray Gilbert, 2B ATL Josh Downing, 3B NYC Alex Rivas, SS ATL Devin Hibbard, LF SFB Ron Alston, CF OCT Sean Young, RF SFB Chris Almanza
Gold Gloves (FL): P PIT Pedro Hernandez, C TOP Pedro Salas, 1B SFW Stanley Murphy, 2B PIT Tim Prince, 3B NAS Antonio Esquivel, SS DEN Piet Oosterom, LF PIT Lowell Genge, CF SAC Ray Meade, RF SFW Ivan Flores
Gold Gloves (CL): P MIL Brian Cope, C SFB Dylan Alexander, 1B TIJ Mike Gershkovich, 2B MIL Steve Best, 3B CHA Alfonso Pellot, SS CHA Paul Hall, LF MIL Chris LeMoine, CF IND John Wilson, RF MIL Victor Hodgers

Oh look, we got a ****ing participatory ribbon.

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*Past merits not included in calculation!