Triple Play - Cassie Cole Page 0,38

the trainer, the head scout. Three other guys who I didn’t recognize but could tell they were high up in the chain of command.

And sitting at the head of the table was Jeff Delorian, the owner.

“This is Natalie Betts, Bobby’s assistant coach,” Theo introduced me.

I smiled awkwardly as I took the only empty seat remaining, at the other end of the table from the owner. This was not a meeting I should be in. Coach Schultz should be here instead. If they asked me any detailed questions…

Jeff Delorian had a soft, almost frail, voice. Like a hospital patient who was struggling to muster the energy to tell the doctor what was wrong. “Finally. Let’s get this over with.”

Theo sat next to the owner and cleared his throat. “This is the monthly status meeting to discuss the team. First let’s discuss the lineup of—”

“Front office is first,” Delorian cut in with his too-soft voice.

The man to his right adjusted his tie. “Ticket sales continue to be strong since the opening day sellout. Our year-over-year concession sales, however…”

The first hour of the meeting was the most boring of my life. We went through every aspect of the revenue that the business earned, from concessions to sponsorships to ad revenue for the Rangers television network. Delorian interrupted constantly to ask detailed questions about the income, badgering the man about ways they were innovating to generate new revenue streams. The man who spoke about marketing and advertising next was just as boring. I struggled not to yawn. There was a pot of coffee in the corner of the room, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by fixing myself a cup.

Finally it came time to discuss the players themselves. The batting coach gave a brief summary of their roster, and the holes that needed to be filled in the lineup.

“This might be a good time to sign Darryl Bryant to a long-term contract,” Theo suggested. “His value has dropped thanks to his slump, which gives us extra leverage in negotiations.”

Delorian blinked with sunken eyes. “I do not want to give a large contract to someone batting two-hundred.”

“I can assure you, it’s a temporary slump,” the hitting coach chimed in. “He has a low BABIP over the road trip, indicating that he will bounce back.”

Delorian swung his gaze across the table. “A low what?”

“BABIP. Batting Average of Balls In Play. It means he’s been unlucky. He’s making good contact, hitting the ball hard. He’s just not finding the holes.”

“We should capitalize on this while we can,” Theo insisted. “Bryant is the face of our franchise. My friends in marketing will agree his value to the team extends well beyond how he does at the plate. If we—”

Delorian fell into a coughing fit. The room went silent as he hacked and coughed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and filling it with phlegm.

“No long-term contracts,” Delorian repeated. “It is simply not worth it.”

It took all of my willpower to remain silent. Based on the tight expressions around the table, I wasn’t the only one who disagreed with the owner’s philosophy.

“Pitching?” Delorian asked.

Theo answered for me, which made me sigh with relief. “The rotation is strong, but the back end is still a liability. The rookies we have as starters are doing fine now but none of them will be able to pitch deep into September due to innings limits. We should add another veteran arm if we’re going to compete.”

“Compete?” Delorian scoffed. “You are two games under five-hundred. More losses than wins. There is no point in making short-term moves for a team that won’t even make the playoffs.”

“It’s early,” Theo said. “The team is finding its groove. We have lost a lot of games due to the bullpen’s performance. As I said during the off-season, we need an established closer.”

“My previous point applies,” Delorian said simply. “Find an internal solution that doesn’t expand my payroll.”

Theo turned to the man next to him. “Who do we have in Nashville that’s ready?”

The man—who I was pretty sure was the head of minor-league development—had a bushy white mustache, which he rubbed thoughtfully. “Not a lot of options. There’s Domingo, but he’s more of a starter. It’d be a waste to use him as a closer. There’s a few promising prospects at Frisco, but making the jump from double-A straight to the show is riskier.”

Theo nodded thoughtfully. “Give me your recommendations on who to call up. We’ll send Rogers down to make room on the roster—”

“No!” I