The Lair Gets a Signal!
Winter was ending. Pitchers and Catchers were reporting to their respective Spring Training Camps. Craig sat down in his kitchen enjoying a nice morning Taco while using his tablet to look through the various news items of the day (Baseball related of course, is there any OTHER kind of news?). Still the day was a bit cloudy and gray, a reminder of the season. Suddenly, a small red light on his kitchen counter flashed on and off with a corresponding buzzing sound. Craig creased his forehead in mild surprise and put down his taco and his tablet.
Walking to the counter he pressed the red button, and a set of high powered binoculars lowered from the ceiling and stopped in front his kitchen window. He looked in and the Columbus skyline greeted him (the binoculars were for show, in reality they received the picture transmitted by a remote camera but it was much cooler this way!). He was interested in one landmark in particular: LeVeque Tower, once the tallest and most elegant building in Columbus (stupid Rhodes Tower!) it was still a cultural beacon of the fine city.
He increased his magnification to examine a specific spot and there, on the wall he spotted… the SIGNAL
The SIGNAL
He needed to go… NOW! He walked to his study, and pressed two keys on his piano and a wall panel moved aside to reveal an alcove. He stepped in and slid down the pole until he emerged in his Lair already in proper lair attire (Bathrobe and bubble pipe). Already the 1995 Braves Championship Team picture gave way to his 71″ LED Screen. Tiffany graced his screen as it activated.
“Craig! I got the “signal”, but wouldn’t it have been easier if you had just sent me a text message?”
“Oh Tiffany, where’s the fun in that? Is everything ready?”
“Yes indeed,” she smiled. “I’m curious as to how you appropriated that… rover? tank?”
“It’s a Tumbler my dear Tiffany,” said Craig while puffing a few bubbles. “Chris Nolan said I could have it since he finished his movies and would no longer require it.”
“Impressive! Well everything is packed in for your trip to Phoenix. Food, drink, bubble pipe refills, Downy for the Bathrobe, NBC Sports credentials, suitcase with your civilian attire, the works.”
“Excellent, I’m on my way then. I have to hurry. Without me Spring Training won’t be complete and can’t begin.”
Tiffany rolled her eyes, “You know Craig I’m not quite sure Baseball deserves you.”
Craig missed the tone of her voice completely and straightened his posture looking quite seriously. “Oh my dear Tiffany, I’m not the blogger Baseball deserves (only the Braves deserve me), but I’m the blogger it needs!”
He pressed a button turning off the display before Tiffany could recover from that one and moved off to the garage annex. The Tumbler was already primed and ready. He strapped himself in and engaged the driving system. Everything felt right as he accelerated through the tunnel and out of the camouflaged entrance to his Lair and emerged among the back roads of Ohio. It was time to head for Phoenix… and Baseball!
The Lair proposes a new type of Baseball Card!
Something must be done to bring back the glory days of baseball card collecting! Topps is screwing things up!
Craig waited patiently sitting on his high chair, refilling his bubble pipe. Tiffany confirmed she received his package and promised to call. On his side table he had some rather unusual prototype baseball cards. The light on his chair blinked and he pressed it.
In front of his fireplace, where the Phanatic rug rested, the Braves 1995 Championship Team picture recessed into his wall and a massive 71″ LED screen surged forward. The display lit up with a small inset picture of Tiffany. Surrounding her image where schematics and charts on the design of his baseball cards.
“Hi Craig, I got the cards, I must say they are a bit… strange. I agree the market could use a change, but I’m puzzled by some these.”
Craig immediately stood up and skipped closer to the display. Good thing his Brave’s bathrobe was tied securely! “My dear Tiffany, I realized that with the foul baseball card company monopolizing the market, innovation and creativeness have been stifled for more than decade. I sense an opportunity to bring baseball cards into the 21st Century. Using a lot of high tech.”
He picked up a Roy Halladay prototype card: “As you can see it’s not just a card, it’s a very thin electronic device. Instead of just one picture of Roy Halladay, you get several ones as the card transitions them. On the back of the card, his stats are continuously updated through the internet… or will be once the season starts of course.”
Tiffany raised an eyebrow. “That’s interesting Craig, but what’s wrong with this Roy Ozwalt card?”
“Oh that! Until Ozwalt actually accepts an offer, the card computes the probability of signing with a team and fluctuates the pictures to possible team uniforms. Once it’s announced the card will settle on the final configuration.”
She nodded uncertainly and held up another card: “Miguel Cabrera? What’s this BSOHL label on his card?”
“The card keeps track of which ball player is in the Best Shape of His Life. We have a fellow Twins’ fan who keeps the database updated and the card reflects this accordingly. You should see the Jose Reyes one, fans have a choice between Dreadlocks and no Dreadlocks.”
“All very interesting Craig, it’s certainly outlandish, but this kind of tech looks pricey. How much are each one of these going for?”
Craig started to speak, held a finger up and then frowned. “That could be a problem, the best price I can come up with is $500…”
If anything I’m probably underestimating the cost of such a baseball card. Wouldn’t it be neat to have something like that though!?
The Lair is preparing a mission
Hey! Now we know what Craig’s been doin‘
The morning sun was shining brightly and infused the office with a bit of warmth. Gleeman was happily surfing the net and answering his emails before getting to the tough job of scouring the news outlets for baseball activity. Then he noticed a package in a corner of his desk. With some trepidation he opened it only to find a simple square CD envelope. The disk had writing on it:
PLAY ME it proclaimed. With a small shrug and a small sigh Aaron put the CD into his optical drive slot.
All of a sudden Craig’s face appeared on the display, sitting on his high chair, rubbing his feet on the Phanatic rug, holding a pipe spewing bubbles in his typical Braves bathrobe. Yeah, it’s gonna be one of those mornings.“Greeting Agent Gleeman. HBT has intel that Ryan Braun may in fact, be innocent of the PED accusations lobbed against him. There is thought in our circles that there may be an MLB conspiracy to tarnish and damage this man’s reputation. However, this is only a theory. To confirm the story we must contact this man.”
The screen blipped and a photo appeared in a corner of his screen. It was Dan Patrick.
“Apparently Mr. Patrick has information regarding the innocence or culpabitlity of Mr. Braun. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to make contact with Dan Patrick, determine his information sources and obtain the necessary proof of Ryan Braun’s innocence or guilt. Your team has already been assembled for you.”
More photos blipped into existence along the bottom of his screen showing D.J, Mathew, Tiffany and Drew. Gleeman rolled his eyes.
“As usual, should you or any member of your HBT team be apprehended or killed, NBC Sports will deny any knowledge of your operations. This message will self destruct-”
Aaron, had heard enough, he ejected the disk, briefly opened his window, and tossed it out the CD and grabbed a mug. He had no time for Craig’s usual shenanigans… self-destruct…
Then he heard an explosion, and car alarms started sounding off left and right. OK, that part was new…
Admit it, you would pay good money to see an episode of that. A lot of folks have been assuming for a while that Ryan Braun is guilty, guilty, GUILTY. The possibility that MLB goofed up and Braun is actually innocent has the potential to become a media firestorm as Craig noted. Regardless of the outcome in this particular case, I believe it is important that all avenues be explored and all sides to a story be heard before condemning a man of a crime. Which is pretty much why I did not jump on any of the roast Braun bandwagons. Neither did I defend him however. I’m still adopting the wait & see approach.
I suspect that even if he’s cleared of these charges Braun’s reputation is damaged for good. Witness how there are still a bunch of people calling J.C. Romero a PED user and lumping his case with Rafael Palmeiro’s or Alex Rodriguez’s. Nothing could be further from the truth. Recently J.C. Romero sued the company responsible for the product that got him that suspension and settled the case out of court. For J.C. Romero however, there was very little justice; he still got a 50 game suspension and MLB still accused him of negligence. From my perspective the punishment did not fit the crime. There was enough evidence to support that at worst Romero didn’t go the 5 extra miles MLB wants players to go to ensuring no banned substance is ingested or taken, but 50 games? Really? for trace amounts of a substance that probably did less for him than Flintstones vitamins would have done?
Back to Braun. If he is still declared guilty after all these hearings due to high levels of testosterone in his system, he’ll have only himself to blame, whether he actually took it, unknowingly took it or botched his defense hearing and was unable to prove his innocence, this stuff is serious business. It behooves the player to go the 5 extra miles.
The Lair hatches a plot!
Maybe it was the headline that inspired me today.
Craig paced back on forth on the Phanatic rug, puffing bubbles through his pipe. He had the air of man impatient to be getting on with something. His tightened up his bathrobe as the call he was waiting for finally came in on his LED TV display.
“So did you go over the proposal?”, he asked without bothering to look at the screen.
“Craig, I wish you would stop including me in your nutty plans,” said Aaron.
“Did you READ it!?!”, Craig replied.
“Yes, yes. But really, a plot to eventually takeover the BBWAA?”
“Think of all the good we can do. The press even agrees they need more of us in that organization. To change it, to bring it vigor, glory-”
“Ego?”, Gleeman asked, a little bemused.
Craig waved his hand. “They already have that in spades.”
“Well I have to say this reads a little like TV tropes, ” Aaron said as he flipped over the page notes. “Votes of no confidence, secret identities, hidden budgets… clones?”. Aaron looked up a Craig. “Let’s assume for the moment I would agree to have hundreds of Gleeman clones with press badges covering baseball events, how do you actually expect to accomplish cloning?”.
Craig bit down his pipe. “I’m still working on that part…”
Hey! They did ask if they need more Craig Calcaterras and Aaron Gleemans. I suggest Craig contact the Chrichton Foundation.
The Lair does some marine research
Craig was intrigued today by one of Logan Morrison’s tweets!
He looked at his calendar and let out a sigh. He couldn’t believe it was still January. Sitting back and relaxing on his high chair, bubble pipe in hand, Craig looked off into the distance while listening to squeaks, chitters and squawks that sounded downright cetacean. On the 71″ LED screen, the ultra smart display was cataloging the sounds and trying to match it against all known seafaring animal species.
It was lot like those TV series when police ran their fingerprint recognition software and the display would sort through a bunch of files with known criminals at great speed. The difference here was the “fingerprint” was the sound and the display was going through a large number of marine mammals, crustaceans, fish, etc.
On the corner of the screen was Tiffany who had called in a couple of minutes ago to say hi and Happy New Year. She had a puzzled expression on her face.
“Are you listening to dolphins or something Craig?”
“Not quite, I believe it’s a Marlin…”
“That doesn’t make sense Craig.”
His TV stopped and announced a match, with all sorts of highlights and a long beep. It stopped at Ozzie Guillen’s face. “On the contrary, the Marlin is question is the Manager. That’s what he sounds like when he’s deprived of his more colorful vocabulary. Morrison is right, it’s not really possible to separate the man from his invective and make any sense of out what’s left!”
“Slow day Craig?”
Craig looked at his calendar again…
People may find Ozzie’s constant use of profanity entertaining and chuckling. I find it embarrassing and stupid. Of all Venezuelans to become the first MLB Manager from my country of birth it HAD to be him. Well it’s par for the course this century.
The Lair gets a scare!
So Craig has some trouble getting into the holiday spirit. Not so the Braves.
He couldn’t take his eyes away! The Brave’s holiday greeting video was engrossing but in an embarrassing way. It was like watching a train wreck, with the Braves logo on the train! The music only made it worse. Everyone looked so phony! He was certain he would have nightmares of Derek Lowe reaching for him with an extended shriveled hand out of the TV screen! (71″ now, BTW). His bubble pipe was utterly forgotten on the Phanatic rug, spilling its contents all over it. Then mercifully it was over. Just watching that gave him the shivers. He adjusted his Braves bathrobe again.
Then his phone rang.
He reached for it automatically (odd, usually calls were routed to his TV screen). His wife gave it to him as a present this Christmas. It was one of those novelty baseball phones (Har, har, where’s my real present?)
“Hello?”, he said tentatively.
“Seven Days,” answered a spooky girlish voice, which then hung up.
It was quite some time before he could stop staring at his phone.
No, the Lair hasn’t gone Supernatural! I’m pretty sure someone is playing a prank on poor old Craig! Just as Craig was mysteriously able to force choke someone a few months ago through some unseen subterfuge, I’m pretty sure someone was able to time this prank just right! Who was it though? Gleeman? Drew? D.J.? Tiffany? The world may never know…
As for the Braves off-season moves (or lack thereof), they’ve tried trading away Martin Prado and Jair Jurrjens. You know things don’t look too good when Dan Duquette and the Orioles turn you down. At least they got rid of Derek Lowe…
The Lair suits up for the Last Day of the Winter Meetings
Craig is reporting in from the last day of the Winter Meetings.
Craig prepped in front of his mirror, looking sharp in a tuxedo (with a Braves pin on the lapel). The 4 room suite was merely adequate (the TV was barely 60″ and NO voice commands! ugh!). Too bad Tiffany wasn’t available but NBC Sports sent a contractor from a security firm, a short chubby guy that was looking harried as he set up everything from his bag.
“Sir,” he said. “It’s all ready. The briefcase has a hidden camera and voice recorder that can be activated by the side button on the left here. The sensitivity is good enough that within a ten foot radius you should be able to get details from low voice conversations and whispers.”
Craig took the brief. “Should be handy as I listen in on the Theos, Alexes, Sandies and Rubens of the world.”
“This watch has a tracking device. The transmitter is this small pin.” He handed the pin to Craig.
“I’ll probably stick it on Lozano, gotta keep track of this sleaze. Safer than trying to track Pujols directly.”
“And your specs have been upgraded with a limited zoom capability.”
“That will be handy as I try to get any contract details and specifics on any pieces of paper people might be carrying or set on a conference room. This is all good.”
“Sir, I’m still confused, are you doing some sort of government work?”
“Government?” Craig had a hearty chuckle. “No my good man, I’m doing something far more important. I’m heading to the last day of the Baseball Winter Meetings.”
What? Craig going out without his Braves Bathrobe and Pipe? Well he has to fit in at least one day at the winter meetings. The Bathrobe and Pipe would be too conspicuous to allow him to get near the scoop (Not that the Tuxedo will help all that much). A lot of activity in Dallas if you’ve been following HBT at all. To me the weirdest thing is the Mets spending money on Jon Rauch and Frank Francisco, this dynamic duo was not terribly good for Toronto in high leverage situations (No Batman and Robin). I’m sure their numbers suggest they are better than they are perceived to be but from a cost point of view are the Mets that lacking in farm depth to field a decent bullpen? Were there no better options? They at least did trade for Ramirez, so that’s good. But for a non-contending team there had to be a better way to build a better bullpen.
Of course the big scoop is Albert Pujols. Cardinals or Marlins? Stay Tuned! (To HBT!)
The Lair is bidding for Pujols! Heck the Marlins are doing it right?
Craig is at the winter meetings trying to recruit Albert for the braves. Can’t the blame the guy for trying right?
Craig was sitting in the conference room at the head of the table, to his left sat Dan Lozano. The Winter Meetings were now a day old and a flurry of activity regarding free agents was being tossed around up, down, left and right. One had to move fast in this town to secure top talent! Craig set down his bubble pipe and concluded his presentation after sliding a folder to Dan.
“As you can see Danny, we’re quite serious about having Al on board. The Marlins may be doing ten years, but heck we’ll give him twenty. Ten on the field and ten more in the dugout as Manager. With deferred money in secure investments through 2036. You can’t lose.”
Dan took the folder, looking a bit uncomfortable and confused. And finally said: “Ok, I’m not exactly sure who you are or what team you represent, but why the heck are you wearing a bathrobe and why is your pipe spewing bubbles?”
Kidding aside, I would have said a few weeks ago that Craig was a likely to land a deal for Albert Pujols as the Marlins were likely to make a genuine competitive offer for the guy. Having signed Jose Reyes and Heath Bell. We’re now left looking like those academic goofs who chortled and mocked the young guy for being pretentious and ambitious but now chuckle nervously and say: oookayyy, so maybe he IS the real deal…
The Lair grows weary…
Hopefully the Cubs will stir the free agent pot!
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
Craig, looked at his clock, then he settled in his high chair, adjusting the collar of his Braves bathrobe (recently cleaned BTW) and taking the bubble pipe that sat on the tray on top of the side table. He pressed a button on his arm rest and the 1995 Championship Braves Team picture recessed into his wall.
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
Chewing on his bubble pipe and puffing a few he watched as his brand new 71″ LED screen (he replaced the old one, hey you gotta take advantage of Black Friday!) brightened and started displaying the portraits of the top major league baseball free agents that were in the market.
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
Video played of C.J. Wilson climbing down a plane to meet with Miami front office bigwigs. Men in Black surrounded the plane like secret service agents. Really, C.J is full of himself… Besides Miami has met with EVERYBODY it’s hard to see what they’re really about.
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
More videos streamed into sections of the various other agents, some relatively minor but could be impact players, like Mark Buerhle. The top targets: Prince Fielder, Jose Reyes, Jimmy Rollins, and of course the crown jewel Albert Pujols. Everyo
ne thought that with the Papelbon signing things would pick up. But the Hot Stove season has been as cold as the Grinch’s heart so far (Gotta love watching those early Christmas specials with the kids).
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
That’s it! He’s had it! He stood up and berated the screen with the big stars playing baseball. “Well come on already! Sign somewhere! I’m bored as hell, Yu Darvish won’t do anything until he’s divorced, I already milked the new CBA for all its worth and we’ve been driven to post trade rumors about Andrew McCutchen. Feed me Seymore! Feed Me!”, Craig implored the screen as he sank to his knees making clawing gestures at the display…
The Lair proposes A New Order…
Craig positively gushes at the idea of a Molina playing on every MLB team.
Craig called Tiffany and her face appeared on his 70″ LED screen. She was looking at some notes on her PDA. They exchanged the usual pleasantries and got to business quickly:
“Craig are you going to mention the Catcher market in our next HBT Extra?”, she asked.
“Mention? Heck, I’m going to ADDRESS it directly. I find it unfortunate that we have so few quality catchers in the market this season. I’ve started a new project to solve this problem. As a matter of fact this initiative will kill two birds with one stone. I’ve sent you an email with my presentation.”
Tiffany checked her PDA again and her eyebrows started climbing on her face.
“You want to get DNA samples from the Molinas? You’re going to CLONE them? So this is what you’ve been spending your time on since Matheny was named the Cardinal’s manager?”
“I’ve gotten over that slight. Moz will make it up to me. Back to the situation at hand. So great are the Molinas that I find it a travesty that not all 30 baseball teams have been blessed with their excellence and performance. We can provide the market with much needed quality backstops and further the goal of Molina dominance over MLB.”
Craig sat down in his high chair, placed his bubble pipe on his stand, brushed the sleeves of his bathrobe and crossed his hands into the finger pyramid of evil contemplation.
“Just think, I’ll have my own personal Molina Clone Army…” he said in a low sinister voice…
