[Pommpie]

Sorry about the wait: between moving, school, work, and everything wrapped up in all that bologna, I haven't had a lot of time to really sit down and bang out some baseball story. Hopefully I'll be settled in soon and will be able to get back to things: I know both of my readers would be devestated otherwise!

Chapter Seven: Reloading

Every year after the season's end, it was traditional for the Edmonton Civics players to get away from their coaches and trainers and get together at the Bowden Bowl for drinks before the team went their seperate ways, seeking winter jobs, winter baseball, and a contract with whoever their highest bidder proved to be. One night of chatter, reminiscences, farewells and, in a successful season, celebration.

This season, however, had been less successful than most, and with their manager running the old hangout of Civics players for generations, they had been forced to seek alternative accomodation. The bar had, in fact, been a selection of Xiang-ling Xun: named Windows, it was a rather posh joint with bored men in nice jackets and disinterested wives with fake chests openly looking at the bartender's package. It was just the sort of crowd that the shortstop usually hated, and when Pancho González tried to draw Xun out on the reason for his selection while sharing a car, Xun was mum.

When twenty-five minor league professional baseball players strolled into the bar, began to order a massive variety of intoxicating substances, and generally provide the bar with a bit of life and pizzaz that it almost always lacked, however, Pancho began to get an idea.

It was the sort of night that would lead to the police being called if the bar's staff weren't as sick of the usual patronage as Xiang-ling was and weren't quite happy to, after years of being stiffed by a bunch of rich pricks, have the well-paid shortstop and the increasingly inebriated Adam Wallace handing out cash like they were afraid it would light them on fire. Meanwhile, for the first time anybody could remember, Xiang-ling Xun looked genuinely happy, as the handful of regulars still in the building rapidly fleeing. Not all was lost, however; the attractive and charming Dusty Gill accepted more than one business card from a fake-chested trophy wife.

The flowing booze made the mood somewhat less melancholy than it could have been, but there were still some sad farewells to be exchanged. Ki-tae Yi was the first to leave. The catcher had posted a respectable .261 batting average with twenty-two homers in 1997, but, with the owners always demanding a lower payroll, the veteran catcher was deemed surplus by Rich Walcott and his contract was being allowed to expire.

"Got anywhere in mind?" his backup Sloan Leighton had asked Yi as the veteran was on his way out the door.

"Head back to Taiwan, probably," Yi replied, with a small smile. "Sure somebody there could use a catcher." Yi had spent only a single season in Edmonton, and his roots did not exactly run deep. Even his smiling jocularity was being tested tonight: more than once, Leighton had caught the catcher stealing a glance at his watch, and at the stroke of nine o'clock, Ki-tae Yi stood up, endured and dispensed an avalanche of farewells and fond wishes, and walked out of Edmonton forever.

The other free agents to be, however, stuck around somewhat longer. Dave Garner had been in Edmonton for a couple of years and had made some friends there. But the surehanded third baseman was another veteran incapable of providing what Rich Walcott considered important for the ballclub, and his poor skills with the bat had relegated him to only twenty-nine games in 1997. One of the men who had taken his job was also on the way out: Sam Quintal, the veteran Canadian. Neither Quintal nor Garner expressed any clear opinion on their future, and when the retiring Joe Bascombe had asked Quintal what his plans were, the old player had fixed Bascombe with a tired grin.

"Your way's looking better every day, Joe," Quintal answered, patting the pitcher on the back with one hand and downing another shot of whiskey with the other. At the same time, however, Quintal stuck around longer than any of the other departing Civics, remaining hunched over the bar with the rapidly dwindling core group until early in the morning.

Raúl García was the only other everyday player on his way out. In 126 games, García had hit .263 with fourteen homers: respectable stats, especially when combined with García's pace on the basepaths and skilled fielding. He was also due for a big raise, and more than a little tired of comparing Edmonton to his native Panama. He had not been tendered an offer yet by the Civics, and he seemed less than broken up over it.

"You're an important player!" the drunk Adam Wallace had hollered across the bar. "You can catch and run and stuff!" In Edmonton during 1997, these were rare skills.

"Not as important as you, apparently," García had replied sadly to the pitcher/designated hitter, who had received his big extension earlier in the year.

Nick Smart, Israel Anaya, and Carlos Mendoza had played a few games with the Civics in 1997, and all were being unceremoniously let go. Pitcher Roberto Sánchez was also unsigned, but for all his talk about 'testing the market' and 'trying something new', Sánchez had proven more than once over his three years in Edmonton that he bled Civics pink.

"He'll be back," González had murmured to Sánchez's bullpen partner Melvin Stewart. "Guarantee it. Be surprised if it takes a week."

Paying attention, Sánchez's head jerked towards Pancho González. "What was that?" he yelled drunkenly.

"I said you'll be back!" yelled Pancho, his own drunkenness stepping proudly to the fore. "You couldn't leave us, Robbie! You'd go nuts!"

"Shut up!" Sánchez replied. "Shut up! I'm testing the goddamned market, you sons of bitches!" Pancho and Melvin both just laughed.

In time, the night came to a close, and the players began to head for cabs, call friends for rides, and generally scatter themselves into the four winds. As they stood on the curb, Pancho González and Xiang-ling Xun glanced between each other and the street, rapidly searching for the cabs that would spirit the last two Civics away. González lived year-round in Edmonton, but Xiang-ling Xun was heading back to his native Taiwan for the offseason, and was indeed boarding a flight to Los Angeles that very morning.

The two infielders stood in the chilly October morning, silently waiting for their rides to arrive. When a yellow Ford Taurus pulled up before the pub, Xiang-Ling immediately dashed forward, yanking the rear door open and leaping to the back seat like he used to leap into line drives heading for the outfield.

As the door closed, Pancho said, "Xun?" His voice was, unusually for the large gregarious man, quite quiet.

The shortshop paused, leaving the door ajar. "Yeah?"

"Good luck, man."

Xiang-ling nodded, formally. "You too," he said, simply, pulling the door closed with a bit less haste and disappearing into the night.

The next day, United League free agents filed. The most prized commodity was Billings Barnstormers outfielder Bill Williams: the five-tool star was attracting more than one major league scout, but the eight United League teams all had their wallets out to try and bring the superstar to their city. However, they were doomed to be disappointed: at noon, free agency opened, and by one o'clock Williams had signed a winter league contract with the Aguilas Superchargers in the Dominican Republic.

"This is a great chance for me to play against some top players and really improve my game," a beaming Williams had said at the press conference. The message was clear: Williams was hot, and he wanted to prove himself to those big-league scouts that had been tabbing him by spending the winter playing baseball, and maybe spending the summer playing in Boston or Montreal.

October 7 saw the first of the former Civics landing on their feet: Raúl García had gone back to his native Venuzuela, inking a one-year winter league contract of his own. García did not go unmourned in baseball-savvy Edmonton: the sports page of the Edmonton Sun carried more than one letter criticising the departure of the consistent and valuable third baseman. Even skipper Kelsey Bowden reacted, sending García a hand-written letter thanking him for his service and wishing him all the best in Venuzuela. García wrote back with his gratitude, and when the response came in, Bowden made sure to leave it open on his desk just where Rich Walcott would see it.

The next week, however, Walcott opened fire on his own. October 15 saw Roberto Sánchez return to the Civics fold; taking two weeks rather than Pancho's predicted one, but returning all the same. When Sánchez (who had never even left his Edmonton apartment) walked into the Bowden Bowl the night after his signing, Pancho González was in attendance. And he made very sure Sánchez knew it.

"I told you!" the loudly-spoken first baseman had yelled, leaping out of the booth where he was drinking with a few friends and wrapping the slight reliever in an immense bear hug. "I told you you'd be back, you beautiful son of a bitch! You could never leave us, you bastard!"

"Jesus, Pancho!" Sánchez muttered as best he could, given that his face was currently buried in a burly shoulder. "I tested the goddamn market. The fish just weren't biting."

"Try putting the line in the water next time!" González retorted, releasing the pitcher and dragging him over to his booth where, for the next several hours, the two baseball players and their compadres proceeded to get very, very drunk.

However, the major impacts had yet to come. It was only three days later when the next addition to the Civics family came, and his name was rather bigger than that of some popular but ultimately mediocre long reliever.

Roberto Espinoza was everything a United League pitcher had to be. He was young, at only 23 years old, loyal, had a rubber arm, and enough pitches to keep lower-quality hitters baffled. Never really considered a prospect, Espinoza threw an inning and a third in the rookie league and was promptly released, spending the next couple seasons kicking around reserve lists in the low minors. It took the Pueblo Anchors to rescue Espinoza from obscurity, letting the youngster into the rotation in 1996. Espinoza immediately proved he could play this game: he struck out twice as many as he walked, kept his opposing batting averages low, and didn't give up many long balls. The mediocre Anchors made Espinoza one of their most important players in 1997 and he didn't disappoint, compiling a 10-3 record with an even better strikeout-to-walks ratio, an opposing average of .258, and fourteen home runs in 156.1 innings. His 4.32 ERA raised eyebrows, but a fastball in excess of ninety miles per hour, a high-quality curve, and a crippling sinker soon lowered them. Tall, young, and potentially dominant, Espinoza didn't lack for suitors in the United League or in some of the other low minor leagues. However, most of those teams were looking at Espinoza as a pitcher later in the rotation. Rich Walcott, on the other hand, made it clear to Espinoza at the outset: you're number two.

That was all it took.

Espinoza's signing generated unusual buzz in Edmonton, considering that it was baseball and it was almost Halloween. Walcott had the city's attention and he didn't let go. Five days later, the second shell hit: two more Pueblo Anchor alumni found themselves in Edmonton. First baseman Jesse Cantrell had been run out of Pueblo on a rail, nicknamed 'Jesse Cantrun' for his mediocrity on the basepaths and considered possibly the worst defensive first baseman in the United League. The 26-year-old Californian's average was reasonable, scraping out .279 in Pueblo and with a good enough eye to draw a few walks as well. More importantly, he had some pop, knocking out nineteen homers in a pitcher's park in 1997, helping to replace the power already lost that offseason.

Also coming to Edmonton was reliever Pat Nelson, a rather mediocre 21-year-old reserve list pitcher. Going the other way was starter Kichibei Fujita, who had managed to compile an 0-6 record as a starter in 1997 with an 8.49 ERA and fantastically mediocre peripheral stats. The trade could be summed up as an out-of-favour infielder for an out-of-favour pitcher, but the unemotional and unliked Fujita would not be missed in Edmonton. The question of Cantrell's own personality would be resolved later.

The next day, the Civics signed their long-term replacement for Mitch Daniels. Second baseman Michael White had come via the Boise Idahoes, where he had spent two seasons as a utilty infielder. White, 23, was another young player for the rebuilding Civics, and combined a nice ability to knock out singles with first-class fielding at first, second, and third. He had even filled in at short more than once in his career and done fairly well for himself. In the United League, where the roster was tight and the budget even tighter, affordable players like White could be the backbone of a contender for years to come.

On October 27, the Civics wrapped up the month of October in style, snagging veteran Luis Reyes from Port Angeles as a free agent. Reyes was a Gold Glove left fielder by trade with the ability to play centre and right skilfully. Quiet and forlorn, Reyes had a reputation as a prima donna and had never been well-liked at any of his stops throughout his baseball career. But he could play ball: in addition to his defense, Reyes brought some of the best contact hitting in the United League to Edmonton. Reyes could bunt and hit singles all day long, and though his career high in homers was five, his other skills made him a dream United League leadoff man.

However, Reyes's arrival crowded Edmonton's outfield. The Civics had lost relatively few outfielders to free agency, and with Reyes, Scott Deakin, Bob Zasko, Denny King, Rick Lewis, and Wei-kang Nao all battling for four jobs, somebody was going to be the odd man out. By seven o'clock that night it was apparently Nao: the 25-year-old was popular, he could hit home runs, he could steal bases, and he could take a few hits away from the other guy. But he suffered from an appalling lack of consistency, was lousy at just getting on base, and the Civics had both speed and fielding ability to burn in the outfield. So Nao found himself traded to Pueblo, with the Civics snagging young catcher Ángel García in exchange.

On paper, it was a brilliant trade for the Civics. García was a promising 23-year-old backstop who had hit .343 in part-time duty in 1997. He could gun down base-stealers far better than former starter Ki-tae Yi, already had plenty of ability at the plate with nowhere to go but up, and most importantly relieved Kelsey Bowden of having to play the unready Sloan "Groundhog" Leighton as his starting catcher. On paper.

When Ángel García rang up Kelsey Bowden from his home in Pueblo, he displayed immediately how fragile paper could be.

"Holy Christ, man!" García yelled, his Brooklyn accent standing out slightly in his stress. "I just get comfortable in Pueblo, just get my apartment set up for the next year, and I'm told I'm going to play up in the goddamned Arctic? What the hell is this?"

The manager was, to say the least, not used to being talked to like this. Whatever their feelings about Bowden, the veteran Civics had enough respect for his history to treat him politely. But García had no idea who Kelsey Bowden was, had no inkling of the history of the Edmonton Civics, and wouldn't have cared if Rainmaker Williams himself teleported into his living room. All he knew was that he was young, happy, engaged to be married, and now being sent off to, for all he knew, live in an igloo.

"Listen, son," Bowden began, stammering slightly as he tried to catch up to the catcher's fury. García had already rolled on.

"Jesus!" García replied. "I mean, I got a girl here, y'know? We pick out this great apartment, put down the damage deposit, and all of a sudden I'm heading up to Edmonton. Edmonton? Where the hell's Edmonton? And I'm going to play with you no-name pricks in some crappy little cornfield, and I'll be damned if anybody's going to send scouts up there to rescue me either."

Bowden took a deep breath, his voice shaking with something that was not anger. "I've been in Edmonton a lot of years..."

"Oh, that's all I hear. 'I've been here for twenty years, you know'. Maybe you guys should think about why you've been in that craphole for so long. I quit." And García hung up.

When Bowden reported this conversation in a quaking, unsteady voice to Rich Walcott, the general manager had merely nodded and curtly dismissed Bowden. The next day, the coaching staff was informed that García would, in fact, be reporting to Edmonton for spring training as planned. Kelsey Bowden, who now had a starting catcher, did not appear relieved in the least.

The rest of the winter passed fairly quietly. As the Civics slumbered, winter league games occured in the more pleasant parts of the baseball playing world. In Aguilas, Bill Williams had the worst season of his professional life; a wrist injury endured during the United League season failed to heal properly, and by the time Williams had his swing back, it was too late. By the time he and the Dominican Republic bid each other adieu, Williams had hit only .256 and his slugging percentage had dropped .150 from his United League season. Even his traditionally reliable fielding deteriorated because of the injury, and it cannot be said that Aguilas was sorry to see him go.

In November, the Civics made their last move of 1997, signing Greg Hubbard from the Pueblo Anchors to a two-year contract. Hubbard was a third baseman by trade: short and stocky, Hubbard lacked speed but had good baserunning instincts. His fielding was outright bad, and his batting average tended to hover around the Mendoza line. However, the 34-year-old had been ricocheting around the minor leagues for almost a decade and a half, never spending more than a few months out of a job. His great strength was his almost overwhelming power: in Pueblo he had hit a monsterous 39 home runs, and one hit in three had left the ballpark. Like so many one-dimensional power hitters, Hubbard struck out like he was born to do it, but he had fashioned an awfully long and proud career out of his own skill. Old-timers in the Dominican still remembered his 1993 season in Azucareros, where Hubbard had played 35 games, gotten 13 official at bats, and had one hit. Naturally, it was a home run.

As the New Year wound on, a few old Civics began to find new homes. For catcher/first baseman Nick Smart, that home turned out to be home, as the 29-year-old retired from baseball after failing to find a team interested in his services. 36-year-old Sam Quintal, who had spent 16 years in professional baseball ranging from the rookie league to the high minors, joined him on the tenth. On January 20, Ki-tae Yi signed a multi-year contract with the Uni-President Halos in his native South Korea, proudly stating how glad he was to finally be home to anyone who would listen.

As spring training approached, news of the Civics began to filter into the paper. Adam Wallace arrived in Edmonton in early February, with Sloan Leighton following him the day after. With Roberto Espinoza and Ángel García acquired during the offseason, both players found their positions under threat, and both took the chance to work out together and get into shape early. Throughout February, pitchers and catchers began to trickle into the various cities of the league in the approved United League way, arriving when they felt like it with the only iron-clad prerequisite being to be ready for spring training on March 5. But the most important action was happening outside the eye of the sports sections, as Rich Walcott worked the phones. The motley crew of Edmonton Civics owners found themselves bombarded with phone calls from the general manager, desperately urging them to scrape up cash. A general cash call went out among the owners, and a further bank loan was arranged. All this was conducted with Walcott pushing from off-camera, trying to scrape up every dime he could, promising them that he could deliver results that would justify it all. When chairman Kevin Torrett gave Walcott his money, it was with an important proviso: "this had better be worth it, or it's your ass".

On February 5, Edmonton traded speedy outfielder Rick Lewis to the Billings Barnstormers for first-base prospect Nelson "Shock" González and 20-year-old pitcher Yosuke Sakurai.

Later that day, they officially signed Bill Williams to an eight-year contract.

Even Kevin Torrett had to spit out his coffee when that news arrived. Eight years? Had Rich Walcott completely lost his mind? Sure, the timing might be right, as the best player in the United League had played his way out of a major league contract with his mediocre winter league performance. But Williams would surely not be cheap, and when word came of a contract averaging about $295,000 a year, their faces grew even more pale. Only the old-timers grasped what was going on, remembering that the great Michael Baldwin had come to Edmonton in much the same way: an insane six-year contract for a guy who everybody thought was on the back nine of his career. That, the old-timers were quick to observe, had turned out pretty well.

But still. Eight years.

The press room at AGT Field was packed the next morning when Williams was formally introduced, in spite of it being a snowy February in Edmonton with baseball normally the furthest thing from most minds. The former Billings Barnstormer was all smiles, as a man who was making more than most AAA players might reasonably be. For all his skills on a baseball diamond, Williams could be abrasive and had confidence that bordered on cockiness. Today, though, he was in a good mood, and he was making sure the reporters left just as happily.

"Oh, the weather?" Williams laughed even as the snow piled up outside. "I spent two years in Billings, guys," he said with a grin. "After that, this is great. I mean, at least the sun comes out once in a while." He spoke proudly of playing for a legend like Kelsey Bowden, a guy he'd heard tonnes of times about growing up in New Mexico, no small distance from any United League team. He praised his teammates, his ballpark, and even the water that had been set before him. He was the perfect ingratiating professional athlete, and the press ate up every minute of it.

When spring training convened on March 3, the 1998 Edmonton Civics had more-or-less assembled. Fifty players in total showed up for the training camp, ranging from the Bill Williamses and Xiang-ling Xuns to mediocre talents attending on a tryout and hoping to make their way onto the reserve list. Most would be culled before camp was through, and not even established veterans were safe. Drees Wolf was probably the best baseball player in Aruban history and a respected, solid member of the Civics pitching crew. However, he showed up in Edmonton almost fifty pounds overweight, and the new weight took away almost everything he once had as a pitcher. Worse, the newly-fattened Wolf lacked the commitment to get back into shape. Even mild-mannered Kelsey Bowden soon had enough, and Wolf was promptly given his walking papers.

The squad soon divided into two teams for intra-club games. Bowden managed one team and bench coach José Morales took the other. When actual balls started to fly, it began the long process of weeding out who deserved to be there and who didn't. Reliever Charles-Émile Sirois had pitched in twenty-one games for Edmonton in 1997, but the Chatham native found himself beginning 1998 in a far deeper club. Sirois had been pencilled into the bullpen for 1998, but Masamune Okawa had played six games in 1997 and arrived in top shape, determined to take a job. The job would be Sirois's, and the 21-year-old reliever found himself on reserve before camp was through.

Nelson González, brought in from Billings in the Rick Lewis trade, was 21 years old and a raw prospect. The Hawaiian was considered a solid bet to be a United League regular someday, but that day was not supposed to be today, and he had spent 1997 on reserve in Billings. But Shock lived up to his nickname: he arrived in better shape than any other infielder in spring training, made solid contact with the ball, and displayed sure-handed fielding everywhere in the infield. An intra-squad game pitted Nelson González against the starting first baseman Pancho González, and the two Gonzálezes both raked against the split-squad pitchers. Though the infield was crowded, Nelson González was immediately elevated on Edmonton's depth charts.

Of course, the stars were stars. The only questions about Adam Wallace and Roberto Espinoza was who would strike out the most batters: both came into spring training with spots in the rotation assured, and both went balls-out just to prove to the other that they could. Xiang-ling Xun hit home runs as he always had, as if the activity bored him to the depths of his soul. But observers noticed a certain spark in Xun's eye when he crossed paths with Bill Williams, who was hitting in Xiang-ling's traditional third spot and bumping the shortstop down to fourth. The two alpha dogs immediately displayed an inability to get along, but both were men accustomed to taking out their anger on poor, innocent baseballs. Certainly, the few fans left happy and with plenty of souveniers.

The game schedule kicked off on March 5 in Eugene against the Cranes. Luis Reyes, Xiang-ling Xun, Bill Williams, Pancho González, and Michael White all appeared, but it was one-dimensional newcomer Greg Hubbard who got the preseason off on the right foot, going 2-for-4 with a pair of very, very long flies, including a grand slam in the eighth. The spring-training Civics beat Eugene 6-2 on Hubbard's 6 RBI, and the fans were treated to the amusing sight of the slow Sloan Leighton playing an inning in centre field after pinch hitting for Luis Reyes in the ninth.

Indeed, the Civics were flying in spring training, starting 6-1 before dropping two straight in Eugene and at home to Trail. The first sign of trouble arrived during a game in Port Angeles on the 15th: huge left fielder Matilde Ales hit a routine pop up for the Angels into centre. Bill Williams roamed over casually to make the play, the evening allowing him a perfect view of the ball. However, as the ball descended towards his glove, Williams's concentrated faded for a fraction of a moment, and the ball neatly landed flush on his face.

Reacting quickly, Williams lashed his glove out to make the catch anyway and retire Ales. However, his profane cry of pain echoed through the crowd, and he immediately headed towards to the dugout. Scott Deakin jogged in from the bench as a cursing Williams was led into the dressing room, not to return for the rest of the spring training. A fraction of a moment's lapse in concentration had fractured his cheekbone, and he was estimated to miss six weeks.

Four days later, Pancho González left in the second inning of a game against Pueblo with fractured ribs: an injury that left him on the disabled list for five weeks. And four days after that, Xiang-ling Xun caught an inside pitch off his wrist, putting him on the disabled list for two weeks. Finally, just to add insult to injury, Roberto Espinoza caught strep throat. Four of Edmonton's six best players would start off the year injured.

While the injured were sitting and talking, however, Greg Hubbard's bombs were falling. Hubbard led the spring in home runs, to no great surprise: everybody knew he could mash the ball. He also led the spring in walks, tied with teammate Bob Zasko: surprising, but Hubbard had shown he could get on base from time to time. More alarmingly, he was ninth in batting average with .345: for Greg Hubbard, an absolutely fantastic number. This allowed him to rest at a comfortable third in OPS, with the leader being Pueblo's He Liu, a former Eugene Crane who had hit 39 home runs in only 98 games in 1997 with a batting average worthy of his power.

The Civics finished atop the North Division in spring training, with a record of 15-9. But five of those nine losses had come as the injuries had begun to ravage the Civics' core, and it was an axiom of baseball (particularly United League baseball) that spring training success meant less than nothing.

"After all," Kelsey Bowden had mentioned to the troops after their last game of March, a 7-6 loss to Billings, "we led after spring training last year too. And look how far that got us."

The only question was, would this year be different? As Kelsey Bowden looked at his lineup, the names leapt out: Bob Zasko starting in centre instead of Bill Williams. Nelson González replacing Pancho at first. Melvin Stewart pitching Roberto Espinoza's scheduled first start. Xiang-ling Xun who was swearing that, come hell or high water, he'd play opening day, but was currently slated to be replaced by Michael White, with the mighty Jesse Cantrell filling in at second.

He'd seen better.

Coming up: Chapter Eight: The Hurting Heroes