[AZTarHeel]

It's June 22, 2000 and the Albuquerque Dukes have just finished up a 6-1 win over the Nashville Sounds in front of a pleased home crowd. Players are jubilant as they head to the locker room, knowing that the Dukes remain on top of the South Division of the American Conference in the Pacific Coast League.

"Hey Hamilton, can I see you for a minute?"

"Sure, skip, what's up?"

"Come on in. And close the door."

Now anyone who has ever had a boss knows that phrases like "can I see you for a minute" and "close the door" don't often introduce positive conversations. Suddenly, Dukes left fielder Josh Hamilton, who had just enjoyed a 3-for-4 performance in the night's win, had a sense of dread as he entered manager Tom Gamboa's private office.

He slipped his red Dukes cap off and held it in his lap, thumbing the brim. He feared looking up at his manager.

Was he about to be traded? Had he come off as too arrogant or something in recent interviews with the press? He thought he had toned things down this season after getting a warning last year, but maybe someone was still unhappy with him. Maybe that was it, maybe a teammate had called him out on something or maybe the press had gotten wind that he had done some drinking with older players last season. But he had stopped and had been clean virtually all season. Maybe someone wanted him to nark on the older guys who supplied the booz. Maybe...

"So what's that written on your hat, Josh?" Gamboa asked, pointing to the letters B.C.B.S scribbled in black Sharpie ink on the underside of the brim.

What kind of question was that, Josh thought. Just come out with the bad news already!

"It's nothing vulgar, I can assure you," Hamilton said. "It's just ... you know ... some personal motivation."

"So, what does it stand for?" Gamboa pressed.

"Well, me and some of the guys have this saying, you know. Big Club By September. You know, to fire us up and help us keep our eyes on our ultimate goal of making the Majors by the time rosters can be expanded to 40 players. I wrote it on my hat to make a daily reminder to myself to give my all. That's it, I promise ... Does somebody have a problem with it?"

"You bet they do," Gamboa said. "The Big Club brass are going to have real problems with that."

Josh was perplexed. What was the big deal about some initials? Was this what this closed door meeting was all about, four letters written on a hat?

"You see, Josh, the Dodgers aren't going to like your little saying because they don't want to wait until September to get you. What I'm trying to say is, congrats kid. They are calling you up right now. BCBT should be your little catch-phrase — Big Club By Tomorrow."

Hamilton just sat there in his chair trying to absorb it all. He had feared the worst, feeling like a kid called to the principal's office, and suddenly he was learning that he was getting called up to the Big Show. Wow. Wow! WOW!

"Just to let you know, Josh. The Dodgers released Devon White today, presumably to bring you up. He refused assignment here and they ate a big chunk of change, and I mean big, to make room for you to be up there. I don't think they want to see you come back here, so knock their socks off, alright? We all know you can do it. Wouldn't surprise me to see you in the Hall of Fame about 20 years from now, if you're not still playing. You're going to be a star in LA."

Josh, normally a pretty outspoken guy, remained quiet. He got up from his chair and started to walk out, still letting the news settled in.

"One more thing, Hamilton," Gamboa said. "Save that hat. It could be worth a lot of money one day."

***********
Devon White out-performed his crappy ratings last season but the free-fall continued this year and at 37, he had turned to mush at the plate. His salary was in the $7 mil range, so this will hurt the pocketbook. But the Dodgers were on the hook for that anyway if they kept him.

It might be a little soon for Josh, but I think he can contribute right away...

Also need to mention that 3B Andy Tracy got called up a few weeks before Josh...