Mark Jazzington - a managerial career

[Jazzmosis]

Originally Posted by Y0DA55

Wow.... you are really pounding these out.

Question though. Are you "just being the manager" and taking the trades as they come, or are you acting as GM as well?

I'm doing a little of both - I'm trying my best to act as manager only, but it's hard for me to not be the GM - cause then I'd just be going with the team I'm given. I place guys on the block and such to feel around for offers, and in fact, in the case of the two trades in the chapter, those were CPU offered. But I'm doomed to like building teams, so it's not uncommon to see teams I leave do well afterward since I build their farms up like mad (such is the case with McDonald and his 43 saves. If I wasn't fired, I'd be in a much better situation there, because that team is playoff bound at this point in the story. Given the way the season ends, it's all in the storyline that I'm building to). I have to ultimately do what's best for the team and my own "career" in the game. After all, there's kind of two Jazzingtons. The game one, and the story one. I've been sticking to my focus of the season with the youth movement, considering how much of a mess the Cubs were when I came in. I had no money for free agents, nothing for promotional days, and the lowest payroll and 2nd lowest fan support. Basically, all I could do was try and dump payroll (which I couldn't do) even more and then I started to patrol the waiver wire. The transaction page before the season has me basically releasing and waivering for the entire free agency period. If there's one thing the CPU doesn't do well, it's manage their waivers. I picked up basically a ton of 3.0 MR specs that are in Chicago's AAA team and have some probable future on the team or at least some MLB team. I just needed a chance to stay employed long enough to reap the benefits of my rebuilding, but even I didn't expect this kind of play from the team. For example, Bejamin Lamar's ratings are 31 stuff, 69 movement, 35 control. His career looks a lot like you'd expect it to with those ratings... until 2008. The only thing I can really see being the difference was that at the start of the season, I had a little bit of money - so I looked at the FA's, and then threw basically all of it at a pitching coach with Legendary skills instead. I guess that was a good investment, eh?

But no, for the most part I don't explore deals while managing. I'm more prone to attempt trades with Arizona or Florida, because I've seen the players on those teams beforehand and I've grown to like them. In the case of Smith/Hollen for Aitken, that was just a ridiculously poor deal from Arizona. I even got 300K out of that, so it's like having Aitken for free. Smith doesn't get his ERA below 6.5 for the season and Hollen stays as a backup (albeit he gets more playing time). With the trades involving Raymond Kagan, that was just an astonishing coincidence. He's nothing special anymore. It's a shame though, when I drafted him in Arizona he was really looking to be sharp. One guy I'm waiting on right now in Chicago is a 20 year old pitcher named Raul Gonzalez, who was drafted before I got here. His ratings are absolutely sick (we're talking 100+ here across the board), and he's absolutely dominated both A and AA. He's far from ready, but if I let him slide away and see him turn into something sick, I'll be kicking myself. I've already seen enough guys turn into superstars after I leave (Kendrick Rizzo, Kenneth Andrzejewski, Mike English (who I'm SUPER pissed about, cause I let him slide off waivers from Arizona to Florida), Clifford Isoruko, James Vasser (who is a GOD now), Augustus McDonald, Kenneth Carlock (converted to 1B after I left and hit 26HRs and drove in 83), Mark Roberts, Benjamin Sizer even turned into something (remember, the Arizona farmhand that was injured every time I needed him in the big leagues?), and to a lesser extent, John McConnell. Some of these guys were dealt to other teams where they took off, but given the kind of bad luck I had, it's been a bitter pill to swallow watching other teams succeed while I flounder around picking up the scraps. With Chicago, it's about time I caught a break (at least to this point in the season). I won't ruin any part of the story, but considering how optimistic everyone's probably starting to think the season is, there's a reason I'm writing from a highly cynical perspective. September causes the most drama I've ever seen in this game. What happens there, especially in the last few weeks of the season (given who Chicago is matched up against) will probably be the longest, most in-depth chapters (and it'll definitely take more than one chapter) I'll write in the story. I've been waiting forever to get to writing that part of the story.

Which brings me to why I've been pumping out chapters. There's a few reasons, actually. The first is that I want to get up to that point, because I've done pretty much all the establishing I can handle. Second, I feel indebted to the readers since I disappeared back in August, dropped a chapter in early November, and then disappeared again until now. My notes have been spread out across my desk for what I want to write for 4 or 5 months now, but alas school and work slowed me down and I couldn't think much about this story, just stare at everything I'd written and formulate the story in my mind while writing pointless essays about Montage theory and Krakeuer, and the star system in films. It didn't help that I overloaded the past semester so I could be lazy now. However, that's the other reason I've been pumping out chapters. I start classes again tomorrow, so I won't have the kind of free time. I've been on lay-off at work for the Christmas holidays, so when I was home, I was bored mindlessly - and thus, inspiration to write. But alas, the updates will slow down, and probably return to my semi-frequent updates. After today, I'll be lucky to get two chapters out a month. If everything goes my way, this season will be finished by mid-Febuary. Regardless though, I'm trying my best to keep the quality up, because in truth, this project is really just me learning how to write more effectively. I've never been able to write on a "deadline," so I can't take writing courses because I know I'll just churn out crap that I'm not satisfied with. Way back when I was in High School I took a writing course and although I did fine, I hated what I wrote cause there wasn't any emotion or feeling behind it. It was more just a collection of potential stories without development or focus or anything. I had what I ultimately wanted to happen, but I can't just force the lead up to it - I once tried that in a two-book novel that I'm working on (which is really what this story is all about working towards). I had the scene I wanted, but I couldn't conjoin the places properly. Mark Jazzington is essentially me working on the middle of writing. The beginning is exciting in the season, and the end always has that prestigeous goal, so the end comes easily - success, or defeat. But it's the grind of getting there that can be unbelieveably hard to write. It's like teasing yourself to get to the point, but life's not like that. You can't 'skip' over the build up to get to the prize, it's the day-in, day-out work and the drama that happens from some of the choices you make that ultimately decides whether you make it. If it seems like I go slow and I kind of allow Jazzington's story to focus on multiple little storylines of people (like Hollen/Smith, and Harshaw), it's because they are all a means to an end, but I can't just say what they result. Harshaw's storyline was just build up to something much bigger in the season. He's part of what I've been working on. Hollen/Smith bring me Aitken, who becomes a mini-story in himself. Dolman I haven't said much past spring training, but there's literally one sentence from that chapter that plays a ton of impact on what happens later in the story. Popham plays in well, and there's a definite reason I keep popping Basil Dominguez's name in the story. Aitken and Dominguez kind of play off each other to get to Dolman and Popham's roles. Gober kind of helps things in the story, but I just grew a personal attachment to him so I felt he was worth mentioning, and Butler is some Brady Anderson of '95 (when did he hit 51 HRs?) story to a smaller scale. I've been overlooking a lot of the personalities of the offense only because throughout the season, their isn't much to talk about it. It's just more of the same - only Harshaw really has something interesting, and maybe Butler - but I doubt I'll get into him much, just because I can't think of a personality to give him. The pitching is far more interesting to talk about because they are overperforming to the extreme, and I spent the whole season waiting for a crack to appear. Needless to say, I never had much confidence in my pitching rotation past Koan. The way I write these characters in the story is really a reactionary way to how I mentally imagined them, and how I felt when they performed. If I had the capacity and patience to write this WHOLE thing like a novel insted of a pet-project, the chapters would be 3 or 4 times as long and I'd be running on 5 storylines at once. I'm not good/experienced enough as a writer to juggle that many storylines properly, and despite my best efforts, with the exception of the Harshaw chapter and parts of the Hollen/Smith chapter, I usually finish chapters feeling unsatisfied, like I could do more. I mean, I've been totally ignoring Irene during this time; and it's not because I want to, it's just because that storyline takes a back seat. In the previous years, I could write about Jazz's girlfriends more because the team wasn't particularly interesting. I really had four seasons of "same old", so throwing in the drama with his girlfriends was just bonuses.

Wow.. I ranted a lot here. I feel like a nerd cause I'm putting so much thought into this story when it's not even what I would consider my best work. I've written a few short stories here and there, and a couple poems, but honestly, only one of them was anything more than for myself. A lot of stuff is incomplete, I just like to experiment - and the sad thing is I try a ton of different styles all in hopes to make my planned novel (I've been planning this novel out since I was 14, but even then I knew I wasn't good enough to write it). For example, I once started a short story that was written from a group collective, where I never explicitly mentioned who was talking - they always talked as a group so I was trying to build personalities so the reader could "figure it out" just by the way each one talked without actually needing "Rick said" after every speech. Unfortunately, that was another partially-abandoned project when I turned it more into a reader's digest version of the characters. I've also tried writing from a female perspective, which for me was ridiculously difficult because I'm a male, but that one had potential. The only short story I ever finished is kicking around somewhere, and it's probably one of the few stories that I was mostly satisfied with. Again, I felt like I could have done more, but I restricted myself to 20 pages (I wrote 21) to see if I could do it.

In some respects, I'm waay too critical of my own work - I'm like this with my filmmaking too, and my recent project there is something I'm hoping I can fix with editing. But in other ways, I know it's good, because if I settle for something less then I know I want, I'll never create anything particularly good.

So that's some insight into this story and what makes it... sorry for ranting so much.. I just hope this makes sense and helps you guys understand what I'm trying to accomplish - I rely a lot on your comments and insight and criticism because this is the first time I've ever really put something out strictly for public. Once again, it's another one of my strange self-projects, but I've been lucky that this grew into a serious learning experience. I'll keep this up till I eventually get Jazzington to retire from managing, or until he can't get a job anymore. Or when the story gets too dry. I'm just lucky enough to have a game that creates 4000 players, and subsequently, gives me 4000 opportunities to build a different story. So what I'm trying to say is, thanks for everything you guys have done for me and this story. I write it for you as much as I write it for myself.

...I dunno if that answers your question.

[Jazzmosis]

It's been awhile since I updated, but never fear, I just finished the latest chapter. I've still got to edit it, but I give you my promise it'll be up tomorrow.
I really like how this one turned out - it's one part of the story I'd been waiting to write since I started this season, which was partially the reason I put it off for so long - I wanted this one to be perfect in every sense of how I wrote it, and although I'm not completely satisfied with the chapter as a whole, I must say out of every single chapter I've written, it's the closest to satisfied I've been. It's with Harshaw again, who's storyline just seems to write itself.

So with that, I'll leave you in suspense until tomorrow.

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 47: Patchwork Pitching and a Moment of Glory

As if the staff wasn’t hanging on by threads enough, losing Koan until the start of September brought on the rotating door approach to my already tattered pitching staff. As I was becoming accustomed to, the team picked up after the shattered remains and won four straight to end July on a high note. But the first pitcher welcomed to the team in Koan’s absence was Spring Training hit-parade Coy Kass. In his defence, he had pitched well in AAA, with a 12-4 record and a 3.68 ERA, so it seemed fitting that he’d earned the chance - but still, his expectations for success was still marginal at best. He was a giant of a man, scaling 6'7, and donned the number 42 on the back of his jersey. Kass was a religious man, and there was many times I saw him in the clubhouse locked in a prayer.

Personally, I never understood how one could credit their talent and determination to play professional baseball to anyone but themself. Ultimately it was their decision to pursue baseball, and it was the amount of effort they put into making their game the best it could be that put them where they were. But to each his own; it took me a while to realize that the comfort of having God was what drove some players to achieve what they could.

Kass was young, at 23 when he was called up - and his performances in the starting rotation were about what I expected - he was unbelievably inconsistent, and wound up costing him his spot in the rotation. The team went 3-1 in the starts he made, but his ERA was a lackluster 5.56, and he never picked up a win. With Guillen being inserted back into the rotation after the trade of Anderson, there was high hopes, but he too began to crack under the pressure in August. Not that he pitched badly, but his solid performances earlier in the season in both the pen and rotation had raised expectations for him - but he was a formidable swingman, if nothing else. What I liked most about Guillen was that he never complained when I pushed him from role to role - he was just ecstatic to be on the big league club.

What finally spelled Kass’ end was on August 11th, in a game against Milwaukee. St. Louis was on a hot streak, and our divisional lead had been shifted to 5 games. Kass went to the hill with the task of keeping one of the strongest offensive forces in the division down, but got roughed up. After the loss, I took him aside, and gave him the news.

“Sorry Coy. I like you and if we were in a different situation, I could leave you in there and let you grow. But we’re in a playoff race. . . and simply put, we’ve got to put the best guy out there every time.” It was the first time I’d admitted that this team had a chance - I’d been consciously avoiding saying it or thinking it because I didn’t want to get my hopes up like I had in the past.

“Am I being sent back down to AAA?” He asked.

“No. I’m moving you to the bullpen.” In all honestly, he would have likely been sent back down to AAA if it wasn’t for a roster move a few days earlier, one that sent Kagan away and brought up 3rd round pick Jeremy Ibrahim. Ibrahim had pitched in relief for one game, and I was trying him out in the rotation in Kass’ place. He had made only 12 starts in the minors (between three levels, no less) and had fast tracked to the majors. His first big league start - on August 16th, provided him with a victory and a quality start, but most importantly gave us another game on St. Louis and Milwaukee. He had a four game lead. If we could just hold on until Koan got back. . . everyone had us pegged for the playoffs.

However, even though Ibrahim didn’t last long (he made only one more appearance before being sent down), the move was still a success because of what it did for Coy Kass. He took his new role and started to flourish in it, becoming a reliable pen member and ultimately lowering his era to 4.46 (including a 2.32 ERA as a reliever).

Meanwhile, the other three “dependable” pitchers were remarkably consistent during this period of change. Morales had an ERA in the high 3's, Lamar in the low 3's, and Zang in the low 4's. This helped, given that the offense was struggling somewhat during August. Earlier in the month, we had gone on two separate three game losing streaks, but had sandwiched a three game winning streak in the middle to negate some of the damage. But the message was becoming more and more cynical as the Chicago hopes became more and more raised - and I remember many papers and sports columnists saying “It’s finally happening - the pressure is getting to this young ballclub.”

I did my best to ignore the mounting pressure, and I told my players to just play like they always have - but it was clear they were feeling the pressure more then I was. The veterans felt the need to produce more because they were expected to carry the club - and the youngsters were being thrown into the fray with little experience and little guidance about how to deal with the pressure - who was I to tell them how to relax in a playoff chance? I’d never been this close this late in the season. It was a time for clutch hits, for solid bullpen, for awesome defence. And during this time, I can’t name any specific player that really took the entire weight of the team on his shoulders and made the pressure just wash away - it was a group effort through and through, and when one person felt the pressure, everyone did. I had changed my closer for the second time, moving Cole Aitken out of the role and plugging in another first year pitcher in - Basil Dominguez. He wasn’t sharp, but he was arguably the best closer out of the three I’d used up to that point.

Of course, there were moments that a single player came through with the big game - that’s baseball. And despite all the media skepticism, I can pinpoint the exact day some of the media started to believe in this young club. August 23rd, 2008.

Ibrahim was on the hill against my enemy the Florida Marlins. They jumped all over my rookie starter in the first, scoring three runs. We countered with a run in the bottom of the second, but Florida put two more runs on the board in the top of the third. The score stayed at 5-1 until the 6th inning, when Gausch, Dechant, and Cancio each drove in a run to bring the game closer at 5-4. In every sense of the game, we simply would not say die. In fact, this game was the season in a nutshell.

I remember sitting on the bench, watching Ibrahim go back onto the mound for the 7th inning. His control wasn’t there and he wasn’t striking out many, but he’d kept the ball in the park and we were still in the game. Plus with the bullpen being taxed in recent games, he was needed to go as long as he could. Unfortunately, he gave up back to back doubles and Florida put on an insurance run. He finished the inning, but I called on Dolman (as I so often did) for the 8th. He did the job, with a 1-2-3 8th and a 4-batter ninth.

This brought us to the bottom of the ninth, down by two. Jacques White led off the inning against Michael Prout (who was not Florida’s closer) with a single. Butler struck out. Cancio was having a solid game, and he got the crowd cheering with another single. Two on, one out. The winning run was at the plate - but it was Dave Dolman. I made a snap decision, even though I could have Dolman go longer. I pinch hit George St. Thomas, who was hitting an incredible .361 in a reserve role. However, Prout got the better of him after a bitter battle, and St. Thomas struck out. Two on, two out, but Hickman was at the plate. Prout got up on him 0-2, but after seemingly endless foul balls, James managed to coax a walk out of the young pitcher.

We had the bases loaded, two outs, bottom of the 9th, down by two. And who was stepping up to the plate but my best hitter, John Harshaw. The crowd roared when his name was called across the system, and I remember his calm stride to the plate - whatever pressure was in the air didn’t effect him. I glanced to the dugout, and everybody was on the steps, twitching nervously, watching and waiting to see if Harshaw could tie the game.

Prout wound up and fired a fastball outside. Ball one. The crowd cheered.

Prout wound up again and threw a curveball. Harshaw bit, swinging through it. Strike one.

The crowd got louder. Prout got the sign and delivered - Harshaw swung, and sent the ball flying into the stands behind the plate. Strike two.

The crowd started chanting “Har-shaw” over and over. I wiped the sweat that had quickly formed on my brow, and looked on at my young third baseman at the plate. His knees were bent ever so slightly, the bat handle in his hands near his right ear. The bat waggled ever so gently in Harshaw’s grip, his blue 25 rippled on the back of his blue and white uniform. I watched his shoulders sway only a few inches, and the line of his jaw tighten, as his short blonde hair peeked out from under the ear protector on the helmet. Hickman took his lead in the background, and Prout nodded upon receiving the sign. I saw his knee kick up in the air, and Harshaw leaned back on his leg - like cocking a gun. I knew what was coming beforehand, but it didn’t matter - Harshaw wouldn’t have heard me if I had told him - he wasn’t thinking, feeling, hearing, probably not even breathing. The ball came arching in towards the plate - and Harshaw started his swing.

The ball connected with the bat, and went soaring into the air. It was a line shot, heading towards the left field corner. White watched the ball while trotting down the line towards the plate - the crowd was screaming and cheering in anticipation, but I could barely hear it. The left fielder was sprinting towards the ball, with some hopes of getting to it before it hit the ground. The ball kept creeping closer and closer to the corner, still in the air - until finally, it reached the wall - clearing it by about two feet. The crowd went wild - the team went wild, piling out of the dugout towards home - but all I could look at was Harshaw, between first and second base, mid-stride, with his left arm in the air, fist clenched save one finger that was pointed upwards, his mouth open in a scream that was surely the word “yeah.”

With a walk-off grand slam, Harshaw had propelled us to victory. His picture was on the front page of the paper the next day, in the same pose that was frozen in my mind from the game. And the headline read: Never say die.

As of August 24th, 2008, everyone across the nation that had been following the Chicago Cubs started to believe.

[Magatsu]

Wow.

At the beginning of the chapter I thought "Well worth the wait. Jazz always puts out quality stuff.". But at the end it exceeded this emotions by far and literally send shivers up and down my spine.

I bow deeply to you. Excellent work, Jazz.

M

P.S.: ... now they have to win, don't they? I'm waiting anxciously for the next chapter, but take all the time you need, if it's again this breathtaking.

[GoCubsAndJays]

Originally Posted by Magatsu

Wow.

At the beginning of the chapter I thought "Well worth the wait. Jazz always puts out quality stuff.". But at the end it exceeded this emotions by far and literally send shivers up and down my spine.

I got the same shivers too as soon as I read Never Say Die.


Terrific stuff dood.



BTW, I applied to Western for Fall of 06, so I may be seeing you around sometimes if I can get accepted.

[PBL Commish]

great writing

i have been reading this off and on for the past two weeks and after reading the whole thing t this point its awesome.


Your teams are always injury plagued lol

[RchW]

Good Stuff, keep it coming.

[Sdpm100]

I agree with everyone else, it is an awesome read.

But I can't agree with:

Originally Posted by Magatsu

P.S.: ... now they have to win, don't they? I'm waiting anxciously for the next chapter, but take all the time you need, if it's again this breathtaking.

I think it could make for a better story - and don't take this the wrong way, Jazz - if the Cubs go on and lose in the playoffs in a calamitous way, before then winning next year.
Just think how sweet it would be for Jazzington if he had to go through a letdown like losing in a Game 7, and all the junk people would throw at him, like he's "a bad manager" etc., before winning next year for the Cubbies.

So if they don't win, that would be the way I'd love it to turn out. But what do I know, huh? I'm only an enthralled reader

[Jazzmosis]

I literally finished the last game of the season and then I started writing, because I don't want to know how the playoffs go... In this case not knowing helps the storyline better. But keep speculating, because I enjoy reading everything you guys say. Meanwhile, thanks for the comments on the chapter.. like I said, it was the part of the story that I'd waited forever to write, and in many, many ways, it takes me to the most interesting part of the story.. the part of the story I've been waiting to get to, but forced myself to slow down and take everything into consideration... to see ahead and know what to write.. and trust me, all the names I've mentioned are for a reason (except Hollen.. he seems to fade away after the trade). But even in Spring Training, I chose Coy Kass cause he ended up making an appearance on the major league roster. Anyway, the next chapter shouldn't be long off, I just have to leaf through all my notes and see what to write first. There's a serious potential this chapters will cover less and less ground, and without taking anything away from the story (or at least, I could lie and say that the last four years of his career have been leading up to the drama of the next couple of chapters), just because so so many things happened that I simply couldn't leave out of the story.

As for injury plagued, I just have horrific luck. It's funny that you mention that though, because Arizona went through a swath of injuries to their pitchers this year, losing at different times, their entire pitching staff. And yet, they are unbelievably strong. All the teams Jazzington has managed come into play in the next few chapters... which is purely coincidental.

Okay, I think I've left enough information to keep you annoyed at me and impatient.

As for CubsandJays, if you come to Western, it's pretty likely you'll see me. I'm always in the same building, pretty much in the same room, so I'm certainly easy to find. Good luck, let me know how it turns out.

[Jazzmosis]

I actually think this next chapter is the longest one of them all - and I'm pretty satisfied with it too, although it's got a totally different feel to the previous one. I'm not going to say anything about this one, because honestly, I've sat here for five minutes now just wondering what to say that wouldn't ruin everything. I'll give you that writing parts of it made ME get butterflies in my stomach - but that's really giving it too much credit, I'm just waay into the final month of the season. Honestly though, parts of it seem just a scan because I tried to get right to the good stuff - so I think I lost some of the excitement. Let me know what you think about that aspect of it. That's all I'll say.

Coming shortly: Chapter 48: A Cinderella Season of Mark Jazzington.

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 48: A Cinderella Season

We reached the guaranteed plus .500 mark unbelievably early, notching our 82 win on August 29th, via Lamar’s 15th victory. At that point, we were 82-49, and held a solid 5 game lead over St. Louis. And after a 14-14 month, we entered the stretch - we’d been on top all season, and now the expectations were there to make it - but it was no guarantee. Everyone on the team wanted to wrap this up as soon as possible, so they could relax - the players had been giving it their all for five months, and were running low on energy, playing on fumes now.

That definitely wasn’t us throwing in the towel though. I knew these guys pretty well at this point, and they’d play as hard as they could every game if it cost them everything. The majority of these guys hadn’t been to the playoffs before, including Lawrence Dechant, the 37-year old veteran right fielder. He had played for 14 years. “Just once. . .” he’d always mutter to himself when he thought nobody was listening.

We were lucky to have the first day of September off, and we started that by calling up two players from AAA - a veteran catcher, Norman Murril, and 26 year old first baseman Mark Barratt. Neither really figured to be major time seekers, but they would be good to keep the others fresh. But during that day off, we got the biggest September gift we could want - Koan was activated off the DL.

His first start would be on the 4th, against Houston. The crowd was a massive sellout to welcome him back, and he’d give us the victory on the rubbermatch, but two important things happened in that game - we stayed a crucial 3.5 games up in the lead instead of dropping to a much less comfortable 2.5, and Guasch blasted his 29th home run of the year, and 200th career. He got a curtain call from the crowd and a ton of handshakes from the team, and we all celebrated with smiles.

Little did we know, that would be the last home run we’d see from him. In a small sense, this was the beginning of it - the beginning of what everyone feared all season long. The team was overperforming and tired - and now the Cubs were coming back to Earth - but right while St. Louis was getting hot. St. Louis had been there all season long, and that club was used to the October race - and they weren’t afraid of cracking. During this month, only two players on my roster didn’t go one way or the other - John Harshaw and Jose Morales.

Dechant was playing so poorly that he was losing a significant number of at-bats to Robert Gober; Guasch couldn’t hit a ball over the outfield fences; Dominguez couldn’t nail down a save, and when I switched the closer back to Aitken, neither could he. Zang’s ERA was on a one way trip upwards, Lamar was finally pitching like his old self (which nobody wanted to see), and Hickman all of the sudden couldn’t steal a base. Guillen bounced from bullpen to starter before going right back to the pen, and his ERA was plus 6 in September.

Everything this team had worked so hard to make secure suddenly seemed like it was all a tease on September 9th. We were playing Los Angeles, another team that was pushing for a wildcard spot, and Koan was on the hill. It was the second game of a four game set, and we were trying to keep them down - but lost 5-4 after a bitter 11 inning battle. We saw our lead go from 5 games at the start of the month to 1 by this date. . . one week, and St. Louis had gained four games on us. But on September 10th, it got worse. Hanging on by a thread, Zang continued his meltdown by giving up seven runs in less than four innings, and just like that, we were tied for the top spot of the division. The papers gave it to me the next day, and all the optimism that had been built up over the end of August was dashed.

Jazzington’s club just can’t handle the pressure. After cruising on top of the division for most of the summer, someone whispered to them that there was still a month to play. You can’t hate this team for what it’s done this year - it’s been a good run, but there’s still three more weeks to go - and with St. Louis putting the pressure on, and four other teams still tight in the wildcard race, the dream of the first Cubs postseason appearance in 50 years is fading, and fading fast. The glory team just need the season to end a week ago, and they’d be the miracle story of the year.

I remember just standing my seat when I read the article, and just being speechless. The optimism had been embraced for a full week before it was back to pushing us back to the “it can’t be done” section of the paper - but even worse, the article was now calling the end for us when the season wasn’t over. First place wasn’t ours alone on this day - but we were still in first. And what sportswriter could take that away?


After LA swept us, we entered a crucial part of the season - a collection of series that still gives me sweats all these years later. After a quick set against Pittsburgh, in which we took two of three and managed to put ourselves 1.5 games back into first, we went to Milwaukee for four, then St. Louis for three, then Cincinnati for three more. This would put everyone on the edge for the ten days - nobody wanted to talk, nobody wanted to say anything bad, nobody wanted to think about how much the series meant.

We won the opener against Milwaukee, giving us a 2.5 game lead, but then lost then next three. Lucky for us, St. Louis only won one game in that time, so our lead remained at 1.5.

On September 20, we piled into St. Louis for the first game - and Koan was matched up against St. Louis’ number 5 starter - a gift for us, but we only got three runs in the game. Luckily, Koan had shaken off the rust and threw a complete game 4-hitter. We won, 3-1.

Game two pitted us in a matchup that I couldn’t believe - Zang, still in his meltdown, up against a converted reliever named Eddie Gomez. Dechant launched his 22nd home run of the season, but we couldn’t get much else off of him, and we lost, 4-2.

The rubber match instantly became the biggest game of the series - we would either go into a virtual tie or we’d get a more comfortable 2.5 games in front with only nine more games to go. I had trusty, but rookie Morales on the hill against St. Louis’ red-hot Richard Dahle. We got an RBI vs. Butler in the third inning, and Morales acted like St. Louis was a last place team by throwing scoreless innings - and I threw Popham in for a scoreless 8th, which brought me to my ongoing dilemma - who to close the game? I scrapped both options and went with the only pitcher I could trust in any game - Dave Dolman. He’d picked up a save earlier in the month, and he did the job once again - striking out two and getting out of the inning in 9 pitches. Morales picked up his 15th win, Dolman his second save, and Popham his 23rd hold. And none of the pitchers were older that 26. It was the biggest win - the clutch one. We had nine more games to go.

But then Cincinnati happened - all the momentum we’d gained was crushed again - this time, the starting pitching utterly failing three times in a row. Lamar, Guillen, and Koan totalled 18 innings - and gave up 14 earned runs. We were swept, and back to our lead went back to 1.5 games. But our worries had compounded twofold now; Milwaukee had just won five in a row and was tied with St. Louis for second. Not only was there a chance we could lose the division crown - but any more skidding and we could lose our chance for the wildcard too - and Los Angeles was only a game back from that.

We limped back home for the final two series. Chicago was lucky in this sense - we got to play two of our last six games against Houston, the basement team in the central. But the optimism was anything but good as we came back to the park we had played so well at - Popham had thrown his arm out the day previous - and was out for the rest of the season - and if we made it, the playoffs too. While the bullpen was melting with the starting and the offense was struggling, save Butler (who hit seven home runs in September), losing my dependable setup was a disaster. It was up to Dolman now, and his clone-partner, Dave Walton. But Walton was also a rookie and I couldn’t expect much from him - luckily Coy Kass was playing strongly.

Zang started the first game, and we dropped our fourth in a row, 4-1 - to Houston, no less. Our lead slid to only one game.

Finally, Lamar came to the rescue in the second game and stopped our skid with his 16th win - which would be his last win of the season. Butler pounded two home runs, we won 8-1, and kept our lead on the division.

But all the drama happened in the final series of the year, which ran from September 29th to October 2nd. To ensure a playoff spot, we needed to win three of four. There was six teams vying for three playoff positions - Chicago, Los Angeles, Arizona, St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Milwaukee. I remember looking over the tired, inexperienced team on the first night of the series, and did my best before the game to conjure up some inspiration.

“Guys, it’s been a long season - we all know that. But it’s not over until after this series. And this series will decide everything. I know a lot of you are nervous, others are tired, and hell, I’m sure you’re scared. Personally, I’m scared as hell - I’ve never been this close.” I paused for a moment, because I’d lost my thoughts. I then took the speech inadvertently in a different direction, completely forgetting about professionalism and stature. “Have you ever wanted something so bad that it’s consumed you? I mean, in life. . . there’s always things that drive us. . . there’s always things that we can never seem to get. I know that throughout my life, the little of it that I’ve really lived, I’ve let a lot slip by me - and I’m only 23. I remember some things being so important now that I just told myself I could never forget them - people, places, things that have happened, whatever. . . and they still slid away. If I could go back, I’d just change one little thing here and there - if only I could go back knowing what some of the things I wanted so bad just weren’t important - and some of the things that I did have shaped me into what I am today.”

I had the team’s full attention now, all of them undoubtedly wondering where I was going with this - and I didn’t know either, but like so many things in my life, it eventually lead back to baseball. “And as I grew up, I realized that it was wanting things I might not have ever got that made me at least try. And from those attempts, I found something else that lead me to ultimately, where I stand today. But. . . if there’s one thing that was ever there for me, for you. . . for us, it was to not let what we really want this season to slip away. It’s right out there tonight, guys. We’ve done it all year long - and tonight, we’re going to go out and do it again. I don’t care how you do it, how it looks, or what it is inside you that makes you want it as bad as you all do - just don’t let it slide away.”

I opened the door to let the team out of the clubhouse and into the field. Nobody said much, nobody screamed - but everyone had a job to do, and be damned if they weren’t going to do it. And as I walked to the top step of the dugout, and saw the lights glaring down on the field and the sellout crowd making noise as Morales went to the dugout to warm up before the opening game - the night was a perfect night for baseball - the sky was just getting dark, the air was crisp and warm, the grass trimmed and groomed, the dirt perfectly raked - everything looked like baseball. I lost myself in the moment before snapping back to reality.

We had four games to go. It had all come down to the last series of the season. A team that had lead the division all year long was still the underdog - but the team in the other dugout was our first hurdle - and we had something to say to them - especially since they’d swept us not even a week ago in Cincinnati.

And just like that, an article I’d read back in May suddenly flashed through my memory. “A Cinderella season this isn’t - Jazzington will have to fight to the very last game to prove he belongs up here.”

I smirked to myself. Close to it, I thought.

[Y0DA55]

Nice setup for the showdown!

Originally Posted by Jazzmosis

We reached the guaranteed .500 mark unbelievably early, notching our 82 win on August 29th, via Lamar’s 15th victory. At that point, we were 82-49, and held a solid 5 game lead over St. Louis.

Wouldn't a guaranteed .500 mark be 81 games, as you would finish at 81-81?

[Jazzmosis]

Damn, that always gets me. Fixed, thanks.

[Jazzmosis]

Okay, you've all waited long enough, and I'm not even going to bother introducing this chapter. Coming up in a minute: Chapter 49: Risking it All.

[Jazzmosis]

Chapter 49: Risking it All

We needed to get off to a strong start in the game, and despite the fact that Morales was on the hill, and he was probably the best guy to have starting in a situation such as this, I was still nervous. Two starts ago he’d been roughed up, but last time out he threw seven shutout innings, against St. Louis. It wasn’t like he was getting a break, Cincinnati was going to be just as tough, and they were still in the hunt. Of course, it would be unlikely they’d get in - they’d have to sweep us and St. Louis would get swept by lowly Pittsburgh. Despite that, everyone knows that playing the spoiler is always a blast - and besides, they’d swept us three games ago, there was no telling if they couldn’t do it again.

Meanwhile, we would be watching the scoreboard during the game, as St. Louis was playing at the same time we were.

Morales came out firing, giving us a 1-2-3 inning. Of course, we couldn’t answer, following with our own 1-2-3. However, St. Thomas made the bench rejoice when he saw that Pittsburgh had taken an early 1-0 lead.

Our game was deadlocked at zeros until the 4th, when Hickman and Harshaw singled, and Butler rapped a double that brought them both in. 2-0 Chicago. White then singled, and Butler hustled to cross the plate. 3-0. The bench was trying to hold back their cheers, but it was next to impossible.

But as if St. Louis was watching, they peppered three runs against Pittsburgh to take the lead 3-1. Our lead was even more important now - but we had to hold it.

And we did just that, adding another 3 runs in the 7th as a farewell present to Morales, who’d given us another 7 inning shutout performance, giving up only 5 hits and three walks, but striking out 6. We led 6-0, St. Louis had tacked on two more in their 8th and led 5-1.

But when I sent the bullpen out to give me six outs, it became an adventure. Guillen started the inning, but on a 1-1 count he gave up a blast that put Cincinnati on the board. Unsure of his stability, I removed him for rookie Dave Walton - who walked two guys in a row before I pulled him. I did what I so often do when I see a game getting out of hand - I put Dave Dolman in. I would have loved to use Popham, and likely would have if he wasn’t standing beside me in the dugout, his arm wrapped. Dolman struck out one, but a double brought both runners in - 6-3. He then struck out another, but a single brought home another deadly run. 6-4. But thankfully, a ground out got us out of the inning, and we hustled back into the dugout, clinging to a tight lead.

The scoreboard flashed the final from St. Louis - 5-1 for the Cardinals. We needed this win even more now.

“Come out swinging, let’s get those runs back! We’ve still got the lead!” I shouted as Hickman swung on the on-deck circle. He must have listened, because he doubled to start of the bottom half. Harshaw then singled him over to third. Guasch struck out. Butler then singled up the box - 7-4. Harshaw was forced out at third on a ground ball by White. Cancio walked - bases loaded, two outs. Beauvais came up to the plate, riding on the team-lead in strikeouts and hitting a career low .239. He smashed a base-clearing double into the gap on an 1-2 count, and we had a 10-4 lead. Gonser came to the plate as a pinch hitter and smacked him home with a single. 11-4. The crowd, and our dugout, went insane.

Dolman got two outs before giving up a hit, so I pulled him for Cole Aitken, who got a fly out to Hickman to seal the game - we’d won, 11-4. We had stayed up a game on St. Louis, put another half on Milwaukee, and knocked out Cincinnati. Despite the celebration in the clubhouse, I reminded them that we still weren’t guaranteed in. But with a win on 9/30, we could guarantee ourselves at least a one-game playoff for the wildcard.


On September 30th, Los Angeles was starting a three game set against Arizona - and the winner of that would go win the division. St. Louis was starting their series against Houston, and Milwaukee was starting a series against Pittsburgh. This was arguably the most important game of the year for us, as we could clinch the division if the cards fell in our direction. I tried my absolute best to keep it in perspective - which included moments where I had to just stare at a wall and repeat over and over “there’s a chance you can lose still.” But no matter what I said, how negative I tried to think, the feeling of nervous hope consumed my entire body. You know that feeling where you just don’t know what to do because you feel so good? You wander around the house pumping your fist, you yell triumphantly for no reason, you just can’t sit down, everyone’s your best friend at the moment. . . that’s what I felt.

This feeling was helped by the fact that Koan was starting the game - I couldn’t ask for more of a gift. The game started with clouds in the sky, and after the first inning, there was no score. And during the top of the second, with two outs, rain starting coming down. Koan gave up a hit, and after a bunch of foul balls, I slumped my shoulders as the umpire went out and called for a rain delay.

“Hopefully it’s a quick one,” I muttered to nobody in particular. The rain kept coming and coming, and I slowly watched my chances of putting Koan back into the game slip away. I couldn’t believe my bad luck - it was as if even God wanted me to earn it the hard way. After just over an hour, the umpires called the game back on - and I looked at Koan. “I guess that your arm can’t go?”

The translator mumbled to him, and Koan mumbled back. “Ji-ku says he’ll go as long as you want him to, he’s not done yet.”

I was caught in a tough situation. Koan was dominant, but I blamed myself for putting him on the DL - twice. I had a two guys in the pen that could cover innings, but this was a must-win game. A win here would take the pressure off - and St. Louis was cruising with a 4-0 lead in their 5th inning. Should I risk it all? I swallowed as all the fear and doubt circled through my head. Finally, after a noticeable silence, I spoke. “Get out there. Do whatever you can.”

Good managers risk it all when it really matters, right?. . . Right? I thought to myself, but couldn’t get any answers. I just stood there, sweating immensely, watching Koan take warmups.


We made it to the bottom of the fifth, Koan giving up only three hits, but he was tired and losing velocity on his heat. He’d struck out four though. The game was still tied at 0. White lead off the inning with a groundout, but Cancio then doubled. The crowd went wild, but I just stood there and sweated, clapping my hands, feeling sick in my stomach.

Gober grounded out to short, holding Cancio at second. But then, help came from an unlikely source. Melvis Beauvais, hitless on the day, rapped a single past a diving second baseman, and Cancio rounded home. The team was instantly on the top step as the throw came in from centerfielder James Ullman. He slid into the plate, but the throw was late - and the bench erupted in celebratory yells. I just stood there as Cancio was mobbed on reaching the dugout. 1-0 Chicago.

Koan got an out in the 6th, but then walked one. I hurried out to the mound. “Good job Koaney, but I’m sending in the relief. Gotta keep you fresh, and you’ve done more then I could ask for already.”

I brought in the hot-hand for the month, asking him to just finish the inning. Coy Kass.

Good managers risk it all when it really matters, right?. . . I asked myself the question once again, but got no answer.

Kass got two ground balls to end the inning with no damage. For the top of the sixth, I brought in a struggling reliever to get me three outs - Rodrigo Guillen. I looked at the scoreboard as he took his warmup pitches - St. Louis had won, but LA had lost. One team out - and that also made my former team, the Arizona Diamondbacks, the West division champions. Good for them - it seemed all they needed to drop was me.

Guillen had pitched the day before and gave up a run - but this time, one run was critical. He needed to be as sharp as ever. He started off the inning with a walk, and my heart sank. I immediately picked up the phone to the bullpen. “Get Dolman warm, fast.”

But Guillen got out of the inning, with a strikeout, a groundout, and a flyout. No damage. I decided to keep him in, and he did the same thing, in the same order. Dolman was warming up for the 9th. But when it came around, I looked at Guillen, who was on the bench. “Why aren’t you going to the mound?” I asked.

“Aren’t you sending een Dulmun?” He replied in his thick Dominican accent.

“No. You’re the man I want in there right now.”

Good managers risk it all when it really matters, right?. . . I couldn’t shake the question from my head. Something just absolutely had to go my way. The first batter Guillen faced swung at the first pitch, and drove it to shallow centre. It looked like a single, but Hickman was dashing after it, and the fans were holding their breaths as he strode. It all happened in slow motion to me - Hickman, his eyes fixed on the ball, dove in an effort to deny it from grass. His glove basketed the ball and clamped tightly over it, but his body was still in the air. His elbows hit the grass first, which flipped his glove into his face. His chest, stomach, and legs all collided with the ground, but the ball survived the impact and stayed in his glove. The crowd roared, as did we on the bench, and Gober in rightfield pumped his fist as he hurried over. Hickman held the ball in the air, but with his other hand he clutched his face. It didn’t take long for me to sprint out there with the trainer.

“What’s wrong? Can you breathe okay?” The trainer asked.

“Me eye, god damn it my eye!” Hickman moaned.

“Okay, let me take a look at it.” The trainer calmly responded.

He removed his hand, and revealed the carnage - his eye was blood red, and he was spilling bloody tears. Gober and Guasch had to turn away. I just stared as the trainer tended to him, and eventually I helped him up - he could walk on his own, but just couldn’t see well. The crowd gave him a standing ovation and he waved to them, which created more cheers. Dechant went in to replace him.

Before Hickman left the building, I patted his shoulder. “You gave it your all, and that’s what I love about you. Thank you. Hope you’ll be okay.” The words didn’t sound right, but I couldn’t control them.

The game resumed. Guillen got a groundout. Two outs. The excitement returned immediately. Ullman dug into the plate, and Guillen got to a 2-2 count. He got the sign, kicked and arced a slider in, one that Ullman swung over. The crowd screamed in euphoric pleasure, the bench cleared to mob Guillen and Cancio in handshakes. We had guaranteed at least a one game playoff for the wildcard.


Finally, we had made it to October first. And with the exciting victory behind us, all we needed was one win and a St. Louis loss, and we were in. They were still a game behind us, but Milwaukee was two back. I was in the clubhouse early, as I was for the entire series, and I saw a man walk by with a tub of ice and champagne. “What is that for?” I asked sheepishly.

“It’s for the possible celebration if you guys win tonight.”

“What! Get that out of here, now! Out of sight, and don’t let anyone see it!” I didn’t want to get hopeful before it was a sure thing. And to make matters worse, I was putting a rookie on the hill. Stefan Takeo, who had been drafted just this year as the team’s first round pick, had come up after Popham was put on the DL. This was only his fifth day on a major league roster, and he’d only made 18 starts in the minors - which summed up his entire professional career. And here this 23 year old was, only 14 days my elder, making his major league debut on the second last game of the season to try and send us to the playoffs.

No pressure.

Chicago got on the board first, with a run in the third courtesy of Harshaw and Guasch. Cincinnati struck back with two of their own in the top of the fourth. With a two-run blast by Butler in the 6th, we retook the lead. Beauvais gave us an insurance run. We lead 4-2.

An error from Gober put a runner on in the top of the 7th. That was a key moment, because a two-run, game-tying homerun followed an out later. 4-4. Takeo finished the inning, but I put in Dolman for the 8th. We were in the middle of a tight match, but looking at the scoreboard took some of the pressure off - Milwaukee was losing, and so was St. Louis. In fact, St. Louis was in the middle of being crushed, 16-1.

We couldn’t get anything going in the bottom of the ninth, and our game went into extra innings. But in the top of the 10th, a callup catcher drove in a run for Cincinnati, and that buried us. We lost, 5-4. St. Louis lost, 16-1. Milwaukee lost, 6-1.


October 2nd would end the regular season, one way or another. It would take a win and the division would be ours. Wesley Zang would be on the hill, and we needed him to stop his slide to oblivion. It would take three wins to guarantee us in the playoffs at the start of the series, and we had won two with one game to play. I didn’t have a speech for the team before the game, just a few sentences. “We’ve been on top all year, guys. And today is the last game of the year. With a wi