*
Miranda sat inthe back of the conference room, listening to the presentation by the wonder twins and Cole, all designed to persuade the coaches to get on board. Lucas sat on her right and Jason on her left, silent observers to the dog and pony show. The data guys reviewed the statistics they all agreed would have the most impact on the team– pitch framing, ground balls versus fly balls, defense shifts. They also talked about strategy– getting on base, defense shifts to prevent runs, pitching for more ground balls than fly balls.
And the coaching staff closed up more and more. Their arms were folded in front of them, faces stony, no reaction in their eyes. Just cold, dead disinterest. Cole and the twins were getting more nervous, glancing at each other at the complete lack of response.
Time to show her new management style.
Slowly, Miranda rose from her seat, all eyes swiveling to her, and she walked deliberately to the front of the room, saying nothing. She had learned one thing from Lucas during her time with him. It wasn’t always what one said but how they acted. She replaced Cole and the twins at the front of the room. While they took a seat, she stood, arms hanging loose by her side, until all conversation had subsided and all eyes studied her cautiously and maybe with a little trepidation.
Finally, when all attention rested on her, she spoke. “Which teams have followed these strategies? Have they gotten into the playoffs?”
“Every one of them,” Cole answered.
“What about the teams that don’t follow this?”
“They have winning seasons some times, but rarely make it to the playoffs. They tend to be able to spend their way to wins.” One of the guys spoke up. “But almost every team uses some of these techniques. Shifting for certain batters. Pitching a little different depending on the situation.”
“Sam”—she turned her attention to the manager—“have we done some of these– the shift, pitching for a ground balls and double play?”
He shrugged, arms still folded against his chest, but he was relaxed, confident otherwise. Confident he wouldn’t have to change. An immovable boulder. “Sure, we use some of it. But these guys want us to shift more, for every player, based on numbers. Baseball is not predictable.”
“Really?” She arched her brow. “So a hitter can get up to bat and decide where to hit the ball? Doesn’t matter where the pitcher throws it?”
Sam was starting to look uncomfortable. “Well, sort of.”
“And they tend to strike out more if they try to do more with a pitch.” One of the guys pointed out.
“And strike outs mean outs, right? No runners on base. No runs scored. Losses.” She sat at the head of the table. “Gentlemen, how do we win games? By scoring more runs than the other team. It seems to me, there are an awful lot of teams having great success using some of these ideas. And the teams that aren’t are lucky enough to be able to afford the top players.”
“Bottom line. We can’t afford top players. We need to work with what we have and win with what we have. If these strategies have worked with other teams in our exact same situation, why the fuck aren’t we using them?” Her voice never rose above a conversational level but the tone grew stronger, harder until it sounded like it had been chiseled from granite.
Sam and the coaching staff flinched and exchanged glances but no one would look at her.
She took a page out of Lucas’s playbook and waited, arms folded on the table in front of her, while the staff tried to figure out a response. The clock ticked loudly, echoes from the practice field providing the backdrop to their discussion. And still she waited, resisting the urge to fidget, fill the silence, to let them off the hook.
“Well, I still don’t think this can work,” Sam said.
“Why not? Seriously, I want to understand why this won’t work, Sam. I can’t get you any more players. We have to win with what we have. How do you plan to win?”
He scowled. “We need more home run hitters.”
Before Cole could speak, she held up her hand, not even looking at him. “That’s one run. We need players to get on base to make that home run more efficient. And home run hitters tend to strike out more.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, Friar would know.”
Jason cleared his throat. “I hated the shift as a hitter. Most of my ground balls went to the right side. If they shifted, my average went down seventy-five points. And if I swung for a homer, well, Miranda is right. My strike out total was higher than a guy with a good on-base percentage.”
“You agree with this method?” Sam faced him, a hint of incredulity in his tone.
Jason shrugged. “We have to win somehow. Why not use the techniques of the teams that have been killing us? These small market teams are kicking the ass of the big money clubs. The world is changing. We either change or lose.”
Sam glanced at his coaching staff. “I guess we could try some of these ideas.”
Mel Bridges rubbed his jaw. “Patterson has been getting killed this preseason. His ball is up and they’re crushing it. We could change his angle a bit and have him throw more two-seamers.”
“That’ll give him more grounders. If we shift, we can get more outs.” Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Might also help the kid.”
“Prosser is a better defensive catcher. Good for the kid learning a new angle and pitch.”