Tim Moungey and the Octopus League

[Jestor]

Inspired by the collective genuises of Dagrims, Jazzmosis, and Tib with their respective dynasties, I've decided to embark on my own project that borrows elements in spirit from their tales. While the main focus of this particular dynasty will be on the trials and tribulations of one specific GM/manager, it is also my intention to make this a story about the growth of a league as well. Hopefully this one will draw the interest of people, and hopefully it will last...

You're a song...
Written by
The hands of God
Don't get me wrong
This might sound
To you a bit odd
But you are the place
Where all my thoughts
Go hiding

There are worse songs to wake up to in the morning, I suppose. It could have been that repulsive, yet strangely addicting in that too many pixie sticks way Hanson, that adrogynous trio allegedly male but with only circumstantial evidence to back that claim.

My thoughts are phlegmy upon waking, it seems.... as clear and free-flowing as a polluted river. The dreams... Vague apparations that I can not recall. Oh well, no matter. It is just before noon and I need to get ready for the idyllic bliss that entails spending a day doing absolutely nothing.

In the midst of my contemplations of idleness, there is the shrill ring of my cell phone. Raising my brows, I silently wonder who would call me at this hour, most of my phone coevals belonging to the group of society's members known as night owls, a club that I, too belong to. A shrug later, the phone is to my ear.

"Hello?"
"Is this Tim Moungey?"
"Yes it is."
"This is Baxter Wexley, Vice-President of Marketing for Limited Brands, Incorporated. How are you doing this morning, Mr. Moungey?"

... The VP of Marketing for Limited Brands? What in the hell is somebody from corporate doing calling me? ... Maybe it's about the proposal I emailed them some weeks ago suggesting that we market and sell different colour and intensity lights in the Victoria's Secret stores, one of them being the one here in my hometown where I work part-time.

"Fine."
"Excellent. I'd like to bring you here to Ohio and speak with you regarding a matter that's come up. We'll cover the cost of your flight and accomodations."
"...All right."

I wasn't going to argue with someone that high-up in the company. The rest of the phone conversation and a few subsequent discussions held later were spent ironing out the details and specifics that are a necessity in any such endeavour.

A couple of weeks later, I find myself standing outside Mitchell International Airport with my parents, lugging the sole suitcase that will serve as my carry-on.

My mother, a woman of her mid-50s who looks a full decade or two younger than that, hugs me, the vivid green eyes that are a family trait sparkling with excitement and glee.

"This is so exciting, Tim! Maybe you'll get a full-time job out there!"
"Maybe. I don't know for sure what this is all about yet... I'm only guessing that it's about the proposal thing about the lights I told you about."

At this point, my father, a septugeniarian who also appears significantly younger than his actual age, breaks in.

"I've said all along that marketing is what you should go into."
"Yeah, I know."
"Better get a move on, Lester. Your plane's going to be here soon."
"Okay, Dad."

The customary hugs and kisses later and I'm inside the airport, heading for the check-in desk and thence to my terminal. Unlike this Mark Jazzington guy whose biography I read about in the paper yesterday, I am no dewy eyed lad of 18 just going out into the world.

I'm 25, going on 50, and looking about 40.

Events to come will youthen me beyond my wildest expectations, though I don't know it yet.

[Tib]

I call first post! Nice start, Jestor.

[Dagrims]

Originally Posted by Tib

I call first post! Nice start, Jestor.

I agree (well, not the first post part but you know what I mean). By the way, lumping my delayed fledgling of a dynasty in with the Jazzington and Driscoll sagas is an insult to those awesome works. I won't ask you to edit your comment, though. Looking forward to reading this one.

[Jestor]

Thanks Tib and Dagrims Hopefully I can keep it up and even improve.

And then I watched her hands of leather
Turn to velvet in a touch
There's never been another summer
When I have ever learned so much

The headphones of the airplane echo the calming country classic of Garth Brooks in my ears just as the plane touches down upon the landing strip of Columbus's airport. I do not pretend to know anything of this city, but only can presume that, like many Ohio and Pennsylvania towns and cities, it is a bastion of blue-collar ideals and people, even though there are a few big-money companies with headquarters located in the area.

Waiting for me just beyond the terminal exit is a man of middle age, the widow's peak of his hair further thinned and aged by the advancement of salt and pepper in its strands.

"Mr. Moungey?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Gentry Williams. Mr. Wexley asked me to escort you about town during your stay here."
".... All right."

In the Senate chambers of my mind, a fierce debate is raging. What in the hell was going on here? A personal escort and a male one at that? True, corporate has done some ****ed up things I've noticed, but this is starting to take the Black Forest tort.

Nonetheless, I follow Gentry along and answer his idle chatter with brief replies that supply the minimum. You see, I didn't sleep much the night before my flight and I can never slumber peacefully on planes, so the dim haze of grogginess still has its mantle on me.

Approximately an hour later, I'm lodged in my room at the local Super 8. Like most budget hotels, it's serviceable as a bed to sleep or screw in and no more . Irregardless of its plebian nature, I promptly crash onto the bed and fall into a sleep full of lurid dreams... psychadelic colours, nebulous shapes. It was curious to me that this otherworld in which I wandered was lacking in other human beings, but at least it was a bright presentation.

Two hours pass before I'm woken up by the ringing of the room phone.

"Mr. Moungey, this is Mr. Williams. Mr. Wexley would like to know if you could come in now since his schedule got cleared."
"That's fine."

During the interval ride betwixt my hotel and Headquarters, I find my mind wandering over the entireity of my experience thus far. There is something very peculiar about this, as if I had ingested acid and was now in a bizzare world of hallucinations. To be sure that would explain the flourish of rainbows in my nap's imaginings.

The corporate offices of Limited Brands turns out to be a monolith entity of glass, chrome, steel, and tinted windows, banal and modern as the darlings of contemporary architects decree. Were I to be in charge of designing such a thing, I should invoke the architecture of the past. Give me Gothic, give me Byzantine. Give me anything but this soulless monstronsity!

That bit of tangent aside, I focus more intently on the antcipated meeting, which commences after I step into Mr. Baxter Wexley's office. The VP of Marketing turns out to be a potbellied man in his 60s, with but a few tufts of grey hair remaining around the curls of his ears, the rest of his scalp a smooth, round dome of shiny bald skin the same colour as Silly Putty.

When he speaks, his voice is of the booming quality one expects to find on a shipyard of antiquity or on the construction sites of current times.

"Moungey! Glad to see you here. I trust Williams has been satisfactory?"

.... I'm not going to touch the homoerotic inneundo hidden there. I do find it irritating, however, that this sort of thing always happens to me.

"Everything's been fine."
"Good, good. Has Gentry told you already what I've called you in for?"
"...No? I assumed this was about the proposal I emailed you about the lights."

Mr. Wexley stares at me in utter disbelief after that remark, eyes wide with incredulity, mouth ajar. Then his face purples and his voice booms across the divide of desk between us.

"What the ****? Who do you think we are? ****ing Spencer's?!"
"... I thought it was a good idea."
"It's a stupid idea! No, I brought you in for something else."

He takes a deep breath, returning his head's colour to its normal slightly flushed shade before continuing.

"No, what I brought you in for was to be the general manager and field manager of the new baseball team."
"...What baseball team?"
"The one Limited Brands is sponsoring, of course!"
"...I'm afraid I don't know just what you're referring to."

Gentry coughs and makes the suggestion that the Vice President elaborate on the specifics of the situation, so that I'm not so in the dark of things. It's advice that Baxter takes on in relatively short order, thankfully.

"Well, it's like this. A new league of baseball is being formed called the Octopus League. It's starting off small, only 8 teams split into two divisions. Various interest groups and corporate sponsors have each purchased a team, of which Limited Brands is one."

A sheet of paper is pulled out and slid across my desk for my viewing pleasure, while further explanation is forthcoming.

"That there is the league alignment. As I said, there's two divisions, one East and one West. There will be a team for each quadrant of the United States, Northeast, Southeast, Northeastcentral, Southeastcentral, Northwestcentral, Southwestcentral, Northwest,and Southwest to start, with the East teams in the East Division and the West teams in the West Division. You'll be the GM and manager of the Racine Secrets, playing in the East Division."

I take a moment to reflect on the information, looking over the list of eight teams. Information is scribbled next to each of the names, and I mentally record it in the hard drive of my mind.

Octopus League East Division

Boston Burgundys
Beantown gets another baseball franchise and this one is being sponsored by none other than the Red Sox themselves. While some might question the wisdom of such a move, potentially cutting into the market share of the Red Sox, the official statement from Epstein and Co. was that "The Burgundys will offer a low-cost baseball entertainment alternative for baseball fans and families in the Boston area." Rumours speculate that the Burgundys could eventually become a minor league franchise for the Red Sox, as well.

Memphis Rebels
This team is owned by a group of Confederate sympathizers in Tennessee, mostly oil and tobacco barons who have business holdings in Texas and North Carolina, but prefer the smaller state life of the Country Music State. While generating some controversy in the local and national press when their inception was announced, the squad is here to stay.

Miami Vices
Given the nature of television to be wedded to sports these days, it should come as little surprise that NBC has opted to pick up ownership of a team. The name came about as a result of NBC execs hoping to capitalize on the wave of 80s nostalgia in recent years, and so both team locale and name was easy to come up with, even though some doubt the ability of baseball to succeed financially in South Florida. Marlins organization, we're looking at you.

Racine Secrets
The team I'll be in charge of. Sponsored by Limited Brands, the parent company of Victoria's Secret and my employer. Just why they chose to have it in my hometown instead of Ohio is beyond me, but I won't complain, I guess.

Octopus League West Division

Minneapolis Lumberjacks
One of the big logging companies in Minnesota decided to take on this franchise, with the aid of a group of state historians who wanted to give more publicity to the Upper Midwest's strong tradition of cutting down trees for profit. I'm already considering these guys our main rivals, especially given my first year of college was spent there.

New Orleans Mardi Gras
Sponsored by the Louisana State Board of Tourism, the name here should be self-explanatory, as should the location. The hoped for dividends here include an even greater influx of tourist dollars.

San Diego Bishops
The Catholic Church in the United States has been rocked by recent years by numerous scandals, so it's been looking for a way to regain image. Enter the San Diego Bishops, purchased and organized by the Church, with a special Papal dispention from Pope JP II himself to be engaged in this business. Some people might say this team will have an unfair advantage, as God might look most favourably on this bunch.

Seattle Coffeemen
The Evil Empire known as Starbucks is the third big-name corporate owner, playing up Seattle's reputation as the coffee capital of the US in terms of the team name.

A silence I hadn't even been aware of being in the room is broken by VP Wexley, who ashes a cigarette lit while I was in the midst of my reverie.

"There'll be a 24 game schedule. Each team will have 3 starting pitchers for their rotation, with a 25 man roster. Obviously since this is a startup league, there'll be no minors. Since we're not entirely certain as to whether this thing's gonna make us any money, we're also not having free agency. You'll build this team through trades and through an annual 7 round draft, in addition to the obvious inagaural 25 round draft. You also won't have any coaches or scouts to deal with at this time. You'll have to do everything yourself."

It's a lot to think about all in one sitting. I thank Mr. Wexley and tell Gentry quite firmly that I can make it back to the hotel of my own accord. Having a man clinging about me like that all the time is greatly unsettling. Now if he was a girl, and a pretty one at that, the matter would be entirely different...

In any case, now's the time to start thinking about how to make up my team in the opening draft. Youth? Veterans? Pitching? Hitting? It's exciting, this chance to create my own squad from scratch...

Time will tell how well I do.

[ifspuds]

Very cool idea. Looking forward to watching it develop.

[Jestor]

Thanks, ifspuds I'm really looking forward to see this come along myself. I just hope I can do it justice!

Oh yes, I'm the Great Pretender
Adrift in a world of my own
I play the game but to my real shame
You've left me to dream all alone

The Platters. Strangely appropriate since I'm eating off a dish ordered of room service as the song plays this sun-bedazzled morning. Pancakes are my breakfast. I don't care what the Refluxians say; flapjacks is passe`.

Resting on the table next to my plate is a copy of the day's New York Times, gotten expressly for the purpose of reading, buried deep within its sports section, the article detailing the Q & A session with the Octopus League founder and commissioner, Nigel Benvuneto. An excerpt of it follows:

Nigel Benvuneto, the new commisioner and founder of the Octopus Baseball League, sat down recently with this reporter for a question and answer interview. The son of first generation Italian-Americans, Mr. Benvuneto built his fortune in the shipping industry operating out of San Francisco and is presently CEO and founder of Benvuento Shipping, the world's second-largest sea shipping company.

How did the idea of the Octopus League come about?
"When I was a kid, my dad would take me to a baseball game once a year, on my birthday. It was the highlight of my year, since I was crazy about the sport. Still am crazy about it, which is why I'm starting this league. As far as the actual idea for it, it's something I first thought of about 10 years ago during all the labour strife that was going on in Major League Baseball. It wasn't until about five years ago that I put it in to motion though and started seeking out groups that might be interested in."

What caused you to come up with the name Octopus League?
"All along I've had the idea that this would be a young, grassroots league that would struggle and be challenging the big boys, the barons of baseball, for survival and solvency. One night, I was reading Frank Norris's The Octopus, a novel that tells of the struggle between the lower-middle classes and the railroad robber barons. Instantly, I had a name for the league."

What were your thoughts upon first hearing about the controversy over the Memphis Rebels team?
"Honestly, I knew when I chose to grant the franchise to the Confederate Sympathizers Society (CSS) that there would be a political firestorm over it. Did I really care? Not really. Some might regard it as negative publicity, but when you're an obscure startup league like this one, there is no such thing as negativity publicity."

Regarding the future, what are your plans for the Octopus League?
"We'll be taking things in five-year plans. For the first five years, our focus will be on ensuring solvency for the teams and for the league as a whole. We'll do our best to maintain a quality, affordable product for our fans. To that end, we will not be having free agency and furthermore, we will be encouraging trades to be kept to a minimum. Ideally, we'd like for players to spend their careers with one team if possible, so that the communities of fans can identify with teams and players year in and year out. After the first five years, we'll revisit everything and see how things have gone. From there, we'll make adjustments to things as we see fit to maintain and expand the success of the league."

Tryouts will be held before the dispersal draft on March 15 at SBC Park in San Francisco. All eight GM/managers from the respective teams will be in attendance and the tryouts will be free to the general public.

*End of Article*

Benvuneto seems to be an interesting fellow, if nothing else. A 72-year old maverick, white-haired and bombastic to judge from his picture, he reminds me of an older Mark Cuban.

Time to make plans to be in San Francisco on the Ides of March for the tryouts.

[Jestor]

I said if
You're thinkin' of
Being my Brother
It don't matter if you're
Black or White

Certain wags, aware of my predliction to the younger side of female things, will remark that my listening to Michael Jackson is an exercise in birds of a feather flocking together. I here wish to point out that while Mr. Jackson allegedly enjoys the company of young boys, too underage by even my definition of things, though perhaps not Humbert's ("I would have the reader see the ages of nine and fourteen as boundaries..."), whereas my preferences are strictly female and more importantly with the minimum at the later years of that fun-filled period known as teenagerdom.

But enough of that. This morning, there appeared an article in one of the San Francisco newspapers a write-up concerning the upcoming draft. An excerpt are included below:

The Octopus Baseball League is set to have its inagural draft on March 18th, with the season set to be on April 1. A 25-round draft, it will consist solely of hopefuls who either don't look to have a chance at the Major Leagues, never had a chance at the Majors, or might have once upon had a chance but misfortune of one form or another befell them and so prevented their opportunity.

The draft order was determined just last night and will be as follows:

1. Miami Vices
2. San Diego Bishops
3. Boston Burgundys
4. Racine Secrets
5. Seattle Coffeemen
6. New Orleans Mardi Gras
7. Minneapolis Lumberjacks
8. Memphis Rebels

Results of the draft lottery were not without controversy, however. Conspiracy theorists at the drawing voiced their strong opinions afterwards that NBC, the network who televised the event and owns the Miami Vices, arranged for the #1 pick to be swung their way in exchange for unknown bribes to Octopus League commisioner and founder Nigel Benvuneto.

Furthemore, supporters of the Memphis Rebels in attendance claimed that public pressure and controversy over the team's name caused Mr. Benvuneto to fix the last pick in this straight draft to fall to their team.

Rumours of lawsuits presently abound on the Internet and in some other publications, but the veracity of such speculations will not be determined for some time yet, though Benvuneto, when questioned about the matter, spat the tobacco he was chewing into the new cuspidor and snidely remarked, "Bah! These people will believe anything and everything when they don't get their way! This isn't about the money... It's about the [expletive] baseball! And if you don't believe that, take your [expletive] cynicism back to Major League Baseball where it belongs."

Regardless of how it all turns out, one can definitely see the Octopus League have gotten off to a kraken start.

*End of Article*

...I do believe the sportswriter should be shot for that horrible pun. Oh well... as Benvuneto would say, publicity is publicity when you're just starting out.

The author of the article needs to go back to journalism school, though. It's as if he wrote it at 2:30 in the morning on no sleep.

Come to think of it, I haven't slept much lately myself. I've been too busy obssessing over my notes regarding the potential draftees, most especially those in the first few rounds.

What was I going to do? What was I going to think?

If my mind seems a muddle confusion of inanity now... its present state will seem a lightning bolt of clarity to how I will be when that fateful date with destiny arrives... the draft.

Would fourth damn us to mediocrity?

Would fourth be the guiding light to glory causant to my genius?

Time will tell. For now, I should at least attempt a sham at sleep, if not get the genuine article itself.

[WWBL Commissioner]

I really do enjoy all these stories, this has turned into a really great thing for these forums....keep up the great work

[Eugene Church]

Jestor, you really have a way with words....being an old retired dj, I really enjoy the song lyrics, too...that's a very nice touch. This is a great idea.

[Jestor]

Thanks for the comments WWBL and Eugene I like doing the song lyrics myself, though they don't always fit with the update that follows. And I've noticed that there tends to be a domino effect with dynasty inspiration on these boards. Below, I shamelessly steal an element from GForce's USBA dynasty...

Hey now you're an All Star get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star get the show on get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold

Smashmouth is the type of football my teams tend to play on NCAA Football 2005 and it is in the dispersal draft that I'll be trying to find my team's future and current All Stars.

The song now in my head after having heard it on the 80s, 90s, and today station that plays on the radio in my home library, I sit at my desk, reading through yet another article, this one in The Tentacle, a weekly newspaper recently started up by the same people bringing you Pro Football Weekly in your local paper that is going to be devoting itself exclusively to the Octopus League. This week's edition is concerned entirely with the upcoming draft and outlines the top 3 players per position. The obligatory excerpts below:

Catcher
At the field general slot, there's really only two players that truly stand out, and the best of them has injury concerns. Still, the top two could well be first round picks. Beyond that pair, however, it's advised that teams look much later in the draft before picking someone up.

1. Wayne Dewitt, 26 years old, Beaumont, Texas
One of the best, young players in the draft according to our scout's eyes, he can hit for average, knock the longball, and has an amazing eye at the plate. People who watched him play at Lamar University are also aware of his brilliance in clutch situations, such as the homerun shot that sent his school to the College World Series his senior year. His arm, while not top-notch, is still very good. The knock on him? During that same senior year, he blew out his knee and has just recently been cleared by doctors to play. He's also proven to be not very consistent. Still, the consensus here is that he should be a first or second round pick.

2. Daniel Alvarez, 25 years old, Honduras
A recent immigrant from Honduras, Alvarez has as his plus factors that he's a year younger than Dewitt, is an even more phenomenal power hitter, and has what is probably the best plate vision around, rated at a mind-blowing 97 out of 100 by our scout. In addition, he was a real team leader for his club squad in his native country. The potential difficulties lie in that 1) he's only an average hitter, and 2) he's a horrible catcher on defense. A probable second rounder.

3. Katamor Mito, 31 years old, Japan
An import from the Japanese league, he's an average hitter with slightly above-average power. Average on defense as well, his big draw lies in his ability to be Jeteresque in the clutch.

First Base
Our scout's first 5-star rated player shows up here, but after him, there's a huge, huge dropoff. As such, we're expecting that the below mentioned Scotty Harper will go to Miami with the first pick in the draft. Our first projected top prospect appears here as well.

1. Scotty "Bonds" Harper, 32 years old, Erie, Pennsylvania
A legendary star of his local softball tavern league, Scotty is a phenonemal hitter, both in terms of average and power, even better than Alvarez and Dewitt in their respective categories. However, Scotty is also a sieve defensively, and his teammates have criticized him as being a loner who avoids the leadership role he should be taking on, hence his nickname. Likely a first rounder, perhaps even the number 1 pick by Miami, especially with the Octopus League instituting the DH.

2. John Bahr, 27 years old, Chesapeake, Virginia
Can hit the ball okay for average and excels at finding the gaps and going for the big bomb. He has zero tolerance for waiting at the plate, however, and there's injury concerns lurking in his past. An even worse defender than Harper and with about the same bad intangibles.

3. George Marconi, 23 years old, Brooklyn, New York
Teams who are looking to build young might go after Marconi. Despite being so young, he's already capable of being a decent hitter in the league, though lefties give him some severe problems. Average in terms of range on defense, he's flawless at handling the ball once it's in his glove. Just recently graduated from Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, this Italian-American has a fairly bright upside in the OL.

Just as I'm about to move on to the two-baggers, my cellphone rings. It's my mother, wanting me to go to a movie with her. About to tell her no, I reflect that it's been months since I've gone to a show with her, so I change my mind at the last moment and give a yes reply.

I'll finish the article when I get back. There's still time before the draft, right? Right.

[WWBL Commissioner]

awww what a good son

[Jestor]

WWBL. Actually I had to leave to go cram for my Espionage final, so I had to come up with a real quick departure for the character.

Back now from the movie. We saw Wimbledon at the budget theatre. Kirsten Dunst naked in the shower. Ahh, sweet bliss! And one of my favourite British comedic actors besides. Truly a treat to behold.

With erotic visions populating and polluting my mind concerning Ms. Dunst, I pick up the left behind Tentacle and resume with lukewarm interest my prior reading:

Second Base
A weak position all around. So weak is this position, in fact, that we're ashamed to even mention a Top 3. Look for a lot of the third basemen to be utilized at the two-bag slot when this draft is over. A truly pathetic class.

1. Bennie Taylor, 31 years old, Kenosha, Wisconsin
The only decent hitter out of the whole lot of true second basemen, Taylor's chief value comes in the form of his excellent eye, which will garner him a good OBP. His ability to hit lefties makes him a good choice for the #2 batting spot against those handed pitchers. His defense is subpar, however, as is his power. This former Division II All-Star with the University of Wisconsin-Parkside Rangers is the best of a horrible lot.

2. Daniel "D-Man" Baptista, 33 years old, Santa Fe, New Mexico
Another softball league project and a mediocre hitter overall, but good enough against lefties. As his nickname suggests, Baptista's principal asset is his defense, where he shows exceptional range and good handling abilities. That he's consistent and a great team leader as well might make this veteran a better pick-up than we're giving him credit for.

3. Bryan Prioleau, 31 years old, New Orleans, Louisiana
You could put virtually anyone that you want in this third slot and make an argument for him, so in some respects, this is our personal bias, but we'll give the Big Easy resident the nod here. A defensive wizard whose anemic with the bat, Prioleau is also a Tazmanian Devil on the basepaths. Good consistency as well.

Shortstop
Another mediocre, uninspiring group, though not quite as atrocious as the second basemen we were forced to look at. There's one serviceable player in their ranks; the rest are about the level of allure as Prioleau amongst the 2B.

1. Deon Maya, 30 years old, Puerto Rico
Came over on the same boat as Alvarez. Should be the very first SS taken out of the draft. He hits well, but not great for both average and power, and has a very nice eye. Decent range and defense as well. Rated a 5 star player by our scout.

2. Josue Grandison, 34 years old, Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Already things are getting ugly with the dropoff from Maya. We'll select Grandison here, who has legendary ability to get to balls and very nice handling ability when he's scooped them up. He can't hit the ball worth a lick and has no patience at the plate, but he'll fry up a fair amount of taters and has a cannon arm. Also very fast on the basepaths, but lacks any kind of stealing instincts whatsoever.

3. Kendall Kain, 26 years old, Bowling Green, Kentucky
Graduated just a couple years ago from Western Kentucky University and plays for a semipro ball team in Bowling Green. Granted, everything's a crapshoot by now at the mediator position, but Kain hits for more power and has a much better eye than Grandison in addition to being much younger. However, there's a huge hit on defense being made in the tradeoff, and even despite the fact that Kain, in spite of his youth, is a clubhouse leader and very consistent, it's still not enough to knock Grandison from the 2nd ranking in our eyes, though some teams will no doubt disagree.

Third Base
The keystone corner boasts some very high quality players, enough of them that there was actually some heated debate over whom to list as the top 3. Eventually though, we were able to reach consensus, so here are the best of what so far is the best position in the draft.

1. Bernardo "Saint" Rosado, 27 years old, Puerto Rico
In the end, what separates Rosado from the others is his stellar defense. A powerful slugger with a legendary eye whose fast on the basepaths and very consistent to boot, the only cautionary points against the Saint are 1) he's only good at making contact with the ball and 2) he has a long history of injuries starting all the way from his years of Little League. Still, he'll be a tempting pick for any team, and would fit in perfectly in either Miami, with its large Puerto Rican population, or San Diego, for reasons which should be obvious.

2. Edward Mauldin, 31 years old, Providence, Rhode Island
Best.Hitter.Ever. A hyperbolic accolade it might be, but Mauldin hits for far better average than Rosado, is an even better slugger, and has the same uncanny intuition and consistency at the plate. The tradeoff? He's slower on the bases than the IRS about getting tax refunds back and is a pretty bad defender. The perfect DH candidate if ever there was one.

3. George "Sinatra" Capra, 30 years old, New York, New York
A huge Frank Sinatra fan and a star in one of the NYC Metro Baseball leagues, Capra represents an intriguing alternative to Rosado and Mauldin. A decent enough fielder, he's above average in contact hitting, though still the lowest of the three, but on the flip side of things, he's the most natural born bomber we've seen to date. Expect him to dominate the homerun leaderboards year in and year out. His plate eye, while not on the same mystical level as the previous two, is still exceptional. On the basepaths, he's ridiculously slow, but uses finely honed running instincts to steal far more bases than his speed would initially suggest. Good consistency and a loyal team player.

Just as I'm about to get to the outfield, my cell phone rings yet again. This time it's a friend of mine begging me to go bowling and drinking with him. While not in the mood for it especially, I consent.

Outfield when I return.

[TexasLonghorns]

Originally Posted by Jestor

1. Wayne Dewitt, 26 years old, Beaumont, Texas
One of the best, young players in the draft according to our scout's eyes, he can hit for average, knock the longball, and has an amazing eye at the plate. People who watched him play at Lamar University are also aware of his brilliance in clutch situations, such as the homerun shot that sent his school to the College World Series his senior year. His arm, while not top-notch, is still very good. The knock on him? During that same senior year, he blew out his knee and has just recently been cleared by doctors to play. He's also proven to be not very consistent. Still, the consensus here is that he should be a first or second round pick.

Wow I get a hometown boy to cheer for and this is an awesome dynasty I can't wait for the season to start.

[Jestor]

I'm glad to hear you like the dynasty, Texas, and I'm especially happy to hear that you have a player you're rooting for. I've noticed the most fun dynasties are the ones where readers pick a particular team or player to get behind. I can't wait for the season to start myself, though I probably won't get to it until just before the New Year, since I'll be gone for about a week starting Christmas Day. I hope to get the draft done before I leave, though

It’s hard recognizing a dream that’s gone dead
Me and my liquor
Feeling alone

Concrete is what my head feels like a block of, and Blonde girls I do love. The Side of the Road is what I staggered down last night as I stumbled all the way from the bar, deserting my poor, irritated, nondrinking friend.

It was cold, damnably cold last night. I still am missing feeling in my right pinkie finger.

As I go to pick up the Tentacle to resume reading, I realize my exhaustion and so turn in for the night, vowing that I will finish on the morrow, both outfield and all pitching sections.

... or so I hope.

[Jestor]

Okay guys, in order to continue this dynasty, I need to know how to transfer my league files over to the new desktop comp I got for Christmas.

So... how would I do that?

[Jestor]

My hands are locked up tight in fists...
My mind is racing filled with lists...
Of things to do and things I've done...
Another sleepless night's begun

Only it isn't a sleepless night. Nor am I naked, and certainly I am no lady. As I slowly, groggily arise from the ashes of my unintended nap, my gold-metal rimmed glasses askew on my wrinkle-pressed face, I blink at the blurred words of the patiently waiting Tentacle.

How long have I been asleep? I can't remember. All I know is, I must continue that article. I must. My draft, my job, even my very life may hinge on it... Every road has several divergent paths at any given intersection...

Nevermind, nevermind. Let us leave chaos theory to more lucid philosophers.

Left Field
Looking for defense? Don't bother with this batch of players. The athletes here that are worth picking up as everyday starters all have horrible range and are not the best at handling the ball. This position breaks down into a couple of pretty nice players and a whole bunch of mediocre ones.

Steven Hooper, 33 years old, Akron, Ohio
Steel worker whose job working with molten metal has helped make him quite a strong man. He has above average contact, can really score the homer, and has a beaut of an arm. Though dialup in a broadband world slow, he has the knack for knowing just when to take off and so will steal his fair share of bases. The biggest problem is the aforementioned defense, with one of the worst ranges seen out of any player in the history of professional baseball. Were there better guys with significantly better defense, he wouldn't be #1 here, but he is. Still a quality look for DH, though trouble hitting lefties is another concern.

Carmelo Velez, 32 years old, Dominican Republic
The Caribbean is a hotbed of baseball talent in recent years and this guy is no exception. Though he's only an average contact hitter who struggles against righties, he's got almost as much power as Hooper and has a better eye and outfield arm than the former. On the flip side, he's even slower with none of the stealing talent and is only better on the D than Hooper by a hairdsbreath. Great team leadership skills are a plus, however.

William Acosta, 36 years old, Laramie, Wyoming
One of the more interesting stories in the draft, Acosta was actually the hitting coach for the University of Wyoming Cowboys before the team's other staff and the players urged him to attend the tryouts to fulfill a lifelong dream that never came to fruitition after his high school sweetheart was discovered to be pregnant with his child shortly before graduation. While a feel-good tale, William is a below average contact hitter who can't see the ball so well anymore. He's slow, can't run, and only has an average arm left. But to his credit is that he's the best of these three on defense, though still pretty bad it must be admitted, and perhaps most importantly, he can both hit the long ball and be extremely consistent.

Center Field
Two franchise players and everybody else. That's the tale of the tape for this position and its setup might well mean that the first two players patrolling the middle of the outfield are the very first two selections in the draft. We had a hard time trying to decide which of them to rank first, but in the end, a decision was made.

Curtis "CJ" Jones, 28 years old, Annapolis, Maryland
A lieutenant and diver for the U.S. Navy, it was arranged that his tour of duty be cut short so that Jones could represent the Navy in the fledgling league and help both with recruitment and with sailor morale. As a result of his background, a sportswriter tried to tag him with the nickname of "The Admiral", but when he heard about it, Jones replied firmly, "I'm no admiral. I'm just CJ." And so the CJ nickname has been the one that's stuck. A deadly contact hitter with even greater power whose best weapon is actually his eye, where he seems to see the path of the ball with surgical precision. Furthermore, he has no weakenesses against any hand of pitcher. He hits them all. His range and fielding are extremely good as well. The drawback is that he's not as fast or as deft a basestealer as some of his peers, but for the benefits and his younger age, we pick him over the next man.

Darrick "Superman" Carson, 34 years old, Orange County, California
His wife calls him "Hollywood" but to everyone else, he's none other than the real-life baseball incarnation of Superman. While not quite as good a total package hitter as CJ, Darrick hits a little better for average and is very, very good at the bomb and his plate vision. In addition, he's an even better fielder than Jones, making plays that seem as though he truly is flying in the air, and the same air-defying sensation is felt when one watches him on the basepaths, as he zooms around at blurring speeds, swiping bases left and right. Even scarier is that he's consistent night in and night out. Yet, even Superman has his kryptonite, and in Carson's case, it's both that he's several years older than Jones and that he just can't seem to hit lefties. Still, it's expected that he'll be a contender for the MVP for however many years he decides to play in the OL.

Jaime Gong, 26 years old, San Francisco, California
After those two blazing suns, there's nothing but remnants of stardust left to choose from. We'll pick Gong out of the remainder for his youth, high-quality defense, supernatural bunting, great clutch ability, and consistent performance.

Right Field
As one might expect, after the excitement at CF, this slot's something of a letdown. Two somewhat serviceable young players round out the crop though, before we dig into our usual "Pick-whoever-you-want-for-third-and-make-an-argument-for-him".

Ovidio "Suave" Rico, 26 years old, Venezuela
So nicknamed because his good looks have already netted him a minor endorsement deal and attracted quite a few female fans to the Octopus League, Rico is above average in all three areas of contact, power, and plate patience. Good arm, good consistency, and good ballhandling are pluses as well. Minuses include extremely slow on the bases and mediocre range. Will probably be most valuable as a marketing tool to a specific gender target audience for the team that picks him.

Roido "Pokemon" Hachemon, 26 years old, Japan
In spite of the obvious similiarties in pronounciation, the nickname actually came about not from his last name, but from Roido's obsession with Pokemon. Having captured all Pokemon in all versions (Red, Blue, Yellow, Gold, Silver, Crystal, Ruby, Sapphire, Firered, and LeafGreen for those keeping score at home), he spends much of his time talking about his various Pokemon and challenging others, usually small children, to Pokeduels. As a baseball player, he's a marginally above average contact hitter with good power and average eye. His defense is atrocious, on the level of the first two LFers in terms of how bad his range is. Good arm, but extremely inconsistent, though when he does come through, it's usually in do-or-die situations.

Estanis Rodriguez, 32 years old, Venezuela
Rico's older, far less handsome countryman, is breathtaking to watch on the defensive side of the field of play. Near flawless handling of the ball and acrobatic moves as he snags seeming hit after seeming hit and turns them into outs is a joy to witness. Unfortunately, he has a dead arm that mars some of the magic. Hittingwise, he hits well for contact, has average power, and tragically is blind when it comes to judging when to swing and when to take. When he gets on base though, he's got sufficient speed and instincts to steal a decent amount of free advances. Another quite inconsistent player who picks the right times to get hot.

[ifspuds]

Hey, nice to see you (and the Octopus League) back!

[Jestor]

Thanks, ifspuds It's great to be back! I've sworn to myself that I'll finish the top players for the inagural draft preview tonight even if it kills me, as I'm sure by now whatever regular readers I have are wondering if there's even going to be a draft, let alone any baseball played

So weary... so weary. It feels as though hours have gone by since I last jotted my notes on the outfielders, but it's only been about ten minutes. Blame it on oversleep. For a moment, I give consideration to the moment of abandoning finishing reading in favour of going online and googling my name and the Octopus League for the fifth time in as many days.

No, no, this has to be done. *Has* to be done. The draft is in two days. I can't procrastinate any longer...

With a sigh as leaden as the foot of a California motorist, I return to the Tentacle, already tiring of its pages that I've read a hundred times before, or so it seems.

Starters
An interesting collection of players here, though once again we're at the old standby of two standouts and the pick-and-argue. Judging from the starters at least, it looks as though the Octopus League in its early years will be dominated by hitting.

Allen Davidson, 32 years old, Louisville, Kentucky
Has stuff like no other pitcher we've seen in a very, very long time. Were he younger, he would probably be a potential Hall of Fame candidate based on that alone. Unfortunately his control is only marginally above average and he doesn't get much movement on his pitches. Then again, with the amount of heat he packs, it's easy to see why the ball doesn't move. Also to his advantage is that he's nice and consistent over the long haul.

Heriberto Perez, 29 years old, Venezuela
A lot of the top players thus far seem to be Venezuelan imports, including this one, who was actually rated higher by our scout than Davidson, thanks to younger years and better control and movement. However, his stuff, while very good, isn't anywhere close to Davidson's and most importantly in our viewpoint, when it comes to crunch time, Perez has been known to get a very bad case of nerves, as when he blew the game that would have secured the Venezuelean national baseball team a spot in the Olympics. In terms of velocity and consistency, both are on par with Davidson, the former in the clocked in the mid 90s, the latter rated as good.

Cristian Cortada, 28 years old, Dominican Republic
Yet another island import, Cortada is our choice for the third best pitcher because of being at an optimum age, with above average stuff, control, and movement, with particular effectiveness against lefties. While extremely inconsistent and not as hard a thrower as the prior two, his endurance is better than first choice Davidson's, ensuring that he'll eat up a lot of innings.

Relievers
The crop of relievers is pretty good, enough that there's some small debate over who the second and third best Rolaids men are after the obvious number one choice. Here are our selections.

Mark Seawell, 32 years old, Boisie, Idaho
This potato farmer, yes actually a potato farmer, was a phenom back in high school and through his years at Idaho University, but didn't pan out after being drafted by the White Sox in his senior season. After a couple years of bouncing around the farm system, he decided to retire and return to Idaho to join his father in the potato farming business before answering the call to the Octopus League tryouts. Amazing stuff, a blazing fastball, good control and movement and a real clubhouse leader. The only knock is that he's another one plagued by problems with consistency.

Benji Demarco, 25 years old, Dominican Republic
Born to Mexican-American immigrant parents in the DR, Benji holds citizenship in all three countries and is a skilled ballplayer. Young, with a searing heater, he has great stuff and good movement on his pitches. Control problems and the propensity to give up the fly ball are potentials for concern, however.

Timothy "Gload" Wickline, 26 years old, Plano, Texas
A real live-wire whose clutch factor resembles that of the legendary Ross Gload. Great stuff, good control, and good movement with a fastball that's not quite as strong as the previous two. Just narrowly lost the number two slot to Demarco based on being a year older. His nickname seems to fate him towards cult fandom, however.

Closers
An unimpressive lot. We'd frankly rather convert one of the three relievers above to closers before going in to this lot. Still, here are the best of a bad group.

Jesus Loera, 31 years old, Puerto Rico
Good but not great stuff, really nice control, good movement, and a fastball that's clocked at about the same speed as Wickline's. The only officially designated closer we'd even think about taking.

Anton Arispe, 32 years old, Venezuela
A phenomenal fielder whose with average stuff and good control and movement. Has a mediocre fastball. The intangibles are what set him apart, as he's a player who will come through in key situations and he'll be consistent.

Ernest Styers, 30 years old, Buffalo, New York
The third best closer and the youngest at 30. Good stuff and movement, average control, with a midrange fastball. Consistent, with some talent to lead a team.

*End of Article*

At last, I am done. Finally, I am finished.

Now... the draft. Am I ready for it?

.... Not a chance in hell.

[Jestor]

You come out at night
That's when the energy comes
And the dark side's light
And the vampires roam

Normally the most nocturnal of beasts, it is presently 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and I have just woken up after having crashed into the world of extended sleep, 15 hours in point of fact.

It is slumber I needed, for today is the day.

Yes, in a scant hour, the draft will begin. I rush around this San Francisco hotel room, showering, dressing, and shaving with alacrity. On the way to the last of theses, as I am a shave-before-shower man, I notice that there are several messages waiting for me on my cell. They'll be looked at later.

Just before I'm crossing the threshold into the bathroom, I belatedly remember there is to be a preview show on NBC concerning the draft, starting at about now, and so I hit power on the remote, listening to the announcing team whilst I attend to my face and body.

"Good afternoon, baseball fans! I'm Nick Pennyworth and with me is Joe "Baseball Million" Papenfuss, who won a million dollars on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' by correctly answering who was officially documented as having been the first major league baseball player to chew tobacco on the field, and Henry Venzant, the editor of the Tentacle, the Octopus League's official newspaper. What a day we have before us gentlemen. What are your thoughts?"

Through the open door, I see Joe, a middle-aged man with pockmarked skin and hair so thin he's already a candidate to join the Swoopsters Society, be the first to speak.

"Well Nick, this truly is an exciting, exciting day we have before us, the inagural draft of the Octopus League. The NBC owned Miami Vices have the first pick and it's my opinion that they should go with pitching, as pitching wins championships."

Nick's voice interrupts just as Henry's about to speak.

"I disagree with you there Joe, but in any case, let's talk about the league itself. Do you or Henry think there's a chance that this will be a successful, viable alternative to the MLB?"

A new voice cuts in through the intermittent spaces of my scraping razor, one I presume to be Henry's.

"Nick, that's the wrong question to ask. Nigel Benvuneto, the owner and comissioner of the league, has already publically stated many, many times that this league is not putting itself in a position to challenge MLB in the beginning. Ask that again in another fifteen or twenty years. Right now, the question to ask is, do you think the league can be a financial success, as every business is about money. And I have to say that yes, I do think that the OL can survive and even thrive and grow. And it all starts right here with this first draft."

I turn up the volume to near-deafening levels so that i can still hear as I hop in for a fast shower, Joe's grating whine audible through the curtain when I step in.

"I don't know about that, Henry. My guess this league will become a pop culture phenomenon before it dies out just like the XFL did. I give it maybe three years before the doors are closed."

"Well it's time for a commercial break, Henry and Joe, so let's go to it. We'll resume coverage when we return."

I've already decided that I ****ing hate Joe Papenfuss. Ugly, smug, bastard. What the hell does he know about anything?

Less than an hour to go now...

[Jestor]

Why can't I breathe
Whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak
Whenever I talk about you

It's hard to breathe in this smoke-ridden, cramped room. The ashed remains of the day's cigarettes are stubbed in the battered cylinder tray in the corner, grimly and morbidly remniscent of a cemetary, though for what reason I can not surmise.

Just minutes now before the first pick in the draft and I and each of my seven fellow GM/managers are locked away in miserable, squalid rooms such as this one. Though nominally termed "war rooms", they instead have the feel of cells constructed for the purpose of prisoner holding. Perhaps that is why the death simile of the ashtray's contents. Smiling I am not.

A modest television set, Daewoo by brand, sits before me, turned on to the three announcers covering the draft. I've seen them before, in the hotel room, and as I'm looking over my notes, they're discussing the upcoming pick.

"I tell you, Henry and Joe, this is an exciting moment for the Octopus League, its fans, and most certainly the Miami Vices, who have the first pick. If you're Miami, who do you draft?"

Near-bald Papenfuss is the first to break in, as is to be expected. ****ing bigmouthed prick. God, I hate him.

"I told you before Nick, the key to winning championships is all about pitching. Now, since there's only a 3 man rotation for each team, that makes the starters all the more crucial. To me, there's only one real ace in this draft and that's Kentuckian Allen Davidson. If this league had a Hall of Fame in place, this guy would be in a shoo-in for it. At 32 years old, he's savvy enough to get the job done, but not so old that he'll be gone in a couple years. I'm going with Davidson."

Henry Venzant, the editor for the Tentacle is quick to input his commentary before Nick has a chance to respond. I feel sorry for Henry, actually. He's been cut off so many times in this commentary that he hasn't had the chance to say much. I wonder if it isn't because he's black. American society is still quite racist, after all. It's just become covert rather than overt.

"While I see your point, Joe, I'm going to have to disagree with you here. Sure, pitching is important, but I'm not so sure Davidson is as good as you seem to think he is. No, what I think is most important, considering the talent pool in this draft, is to go out and get a guy whose going to play every day, a franchise player who will really ignite the team's offense and be stellar on defense. Now it's widely acknowledged that there's only two players who really fit the franchise description in this draft, both center fielders: Curtis Jones and Darrick Carson. Me, I'd pick Carson because of the versatility he gives you. He can play left and right field almost as well as he can center. That he's a speed demon is also all the more reason to pick him and insert him as the #3 hitter."

Not one to let Henry have the last word, Joe jumps right back into it.

"That's just ridiculous! To make a 34 year old man the first pick in the draft is the ultimate in stupidity. No, if you're going to make one of those two the first pick, then you have to go with Jones, whose not only a better hitter, but is also six years younger."

Just as a brawl looks about ready to erupt between the two, now glaring at each other, Nick chimes in.

"Interesting viewpoints, but the commish is up at the podium now with the pick, so let's hear what it is."

Nigel Benvuneto, with the trace of a smile on his craggy face, his white hair brushed into some semblance of order and looking as though he's worth more the entireity of his league in the black three-piece Italian suit and contrasting dark gold tie, is at the podium, holding a yellow card, from which he reads. God, I hope one of the players I have targeted with the number 4 pick isn't taken, or if he is, that it means some of the others will fall to me.

"With the first pick in the Octopus League dispersal draft, the Miami Vices select....

















Centerfielder Curtis Jones."

The announcement of San Diego's being on the clock is lost in the roar of cheering and applause in the ballroom as the audience attending the draft approves wholeheartedly of the first pick. Or maybe they're simply enjoying the thrill of being a part of history. Either way, it's loud enough to vibrate the walls of my cubicle.

On the television screen, the announcers are back on, with Henry looking chagrined and Joe looking gleeful, the happy one leaping ahead of Nick's intended comment.

"I *told* you Jones would be a better first pick over Carson! While I still fault the Vices for not picking up Davidson when they had the chance, Jones is still a nice pick."

Henry is quick to fire back, though there's a certain amount of anger in his face, as this simply just isn't proving to be his day.

"At least they went with an everyday player, which is the smartest move they could make, in my opinion."

Peace is re-established for all of ten seconds, by Nick, who suggests that they move on to the next pick, San Diego. Henry seizes the lead this time, determined not to let Joe have the first word.

"Without a doubt, Carson should be the pick here. The Catholic Church, who has ownership of the Bishops, really could use the PR boost that winning a title would provide and sooner rather than later. Carson helps them win now. Sure he'll retire in a few years most likely, but winning now is crucial."

Joe snorts and shakes his head, the stray strands of his few remaining hairs swaying in the breeze created.

"I'll agree with you that winning now is more important than winning later for the Bishops, but that's what makes pitching all the more crucial. Davidson has to be the pick here. He'll not only help them win now, but he'll be around longer than Carson."

Nick intervenes with the comment that the pick is up, and so the camera returns to Benvuneto, who hasn't lost his smile yet.

"With the second pick in the Octopus League dispersal draft, the San Diego Bishops select....















SP Heriberto Perez. Next on the clock is the Boston Burgundys."

Unlike the pandemonium that broke out over the first pick, stunned silence greets the second one. Following the shock, boos pepper the air, loudly and lustfully.

"Damn Church can't do anything right!" cries one disgusted man.

In my room, I'm floored as well. Never would I have expected Perez to go second. A probable first rounder, yes, thanks to the dearth of starting pitching talent, but second?

The announcers too, have surprise on their faces, when the camera returns to them. Nick is the first to recover.

"Well, interesting pick here by the Bishops. Joe, Henry, tell us your thoughts on this rather unusual selection."

Henry takes the initiative, as Joe seems too busy recovering from the shock of the first pitcher being selected not Davidson.

"This pick actually makes sense when you consider the larger philosophy of the Catholic Church and Christianity as a whole, Nick. Heriberto is a very talented pitcher who has a large black mark on his record, namely the meltdown against Argentina that determined which of the two would go to the Olympics. Perez now has a chance for redemption, much like many of the figures in Church canon did, and if he succeeds, the Bishops come off looking very good here, with a likely championship to show for it. Perez, as a Latino, will appeal to that market as well, an important factor for the Church, who have many faithful in that culture. In addition, our scout at the Tentacle had him rated higher than we ranked him. Overall, a smarter pick than at first glance."

By now, Joe has recovered, though his face is a quite funny shade of red at his indignation.

"That is pure and utter hogwash! That fluff will probably be what the Bishops organization will come out with to explain the pick, but it's still absurd. Davidson should have been the first pitcher taken in the draft!"

Regardless of the back and forth argument over the pick, I'm still ecstatic over this selection. This means that no matter what, I'll have a high-quality player to choose when my turn comes up. Grinning Cheshire style, I listen to the new commentary concerning the upcoming pick for the Burgundys. Joe is the first one talking, still on a head of steam over the Bishops.

"With the Red Sox owning this franchise, you would think that the Burgundys absolutely have to go with Davidson here. You think Red Sox, you think Pedro. With Martinez's departure from Boston imminent, by selecting the best pitcher in the draft, the Burgundys will have a similiar icon to Martinez in Davidson, only with a better attitude. Make the pick of Davidson, and Boston will have a chance to win every year."

Counterpoint comes courtesy of Henry after he sips from his glass of water, his face pleasant.

"On this one, I'm actually going to agree with you, Joe. Davidson should be the selection here, or perhaps even one of the young guys out there who dominate a weak position. I'm thinking here catcher Wayne Dewitt, the former Lamar Cardinal. He's clearly the best at catcher, with a huge dropoff after him. Plus, at only 26, he's going to be good to go for a very long time. The city of Boston is hung over from the Red Sox World Series victory. I say either Davidson for the starting pitching or Dewitt for a young everyday player who will be a star for years to come."

A few moments later, Benvuneto fills the screen again, ready to declare the next pick in the draft, still looking as fresh as when he started.

"With the third pick in the Octopus League dispersal draft, the Boston Burgundys select...















Third baseman Bernando Rosado."

Again, cheers fill the room, along with much clapping. Evidently they like this pick. I do too, to be honest, both from my own pick standpoint, and from the view that this is just a nice selection.

Back to the announcers, Joe looking about ready to explode, Nick neutral, and Henry jolly-expressioned and the first to speak.

"As I said, a young player who dominates his position. We had the Saint rated as the #1 third-sacker. He's young, a dynamite hitter, and plays stellar defense. A solid, solid selection overall."

Joe looks about ready to throw his water at Henry as he angrily fires off his retort.

"Stupid pick! Edward Maudlin is a much better hitter than Rosado and besides which, pitching is all-important to winning titles! I can't believe nobody's picked Davidson yet!"

Nick takes that opportunity to segue into, at long last, me.

"Speaking of that, let's talk about the Racine Secrets who are up next. Joe, you seem to be pretty set on Davidson, so let's hear what Henry has to say about this."

Positively gloating Henry laughs and launches into his analysis, Joe fuming at having his commentary cut out of this segment.

"Racine's an interesting case. They've got the youngest GM/manager in the league in Tim Moungey and by virtue of being sponsored by Victoria's Secret are sure to have its share of fans. As for who to select? I'd say either Davidson, who isn't going to get out of the first round in any case, Carson to win now and who I still think should have been selected before this, or even a small run on third basemen with George Capra, whose one of two solid third basemen left and plays better defense than Maudlin. Or possibly even Dewitt."

Joe jumps in almost before the last name is out of Henry's mouth, determined not to be denied.

"Davidson! It's got to be Davidson! Pitching wins championships! End. Of. Story!"

Who will I pick?

I'll let them wait a little bit longer.

Fans out in the audience, who do *you* think I'll end up selecting?