TEAM MEETING
"Wendell. A mob is at our door." Vasiliy was looking down at the snow-covered street below the window. "Man with University of Florida baseball cap is in front. You want me to shoot him, yes?"
"Wasn't he my predecessor in this office?" I couldn't see around Vasiliy.
"Ah yes. Then you wish me to use wooden stake."
"He's probably upset about Padilla. They all are."
"Flamethrower?"
"Vasiliy. It's just baseball, man. They have a right to express their opinion. JP was king in this town. I'll go talk to them."
"Talk, pah. This is not how we do things in Russia."
"Relax pal. Invite them in for vodka and borscht downstairs. Tell them I will be in to discuss the trade with them in a while. Did Leo's and Carlito's flights arrive?"
"Yes. They are now setting up locker. I give them combination." Vasiliy pulled back his coat sleeve to reveal the tattoo on his forearm. 36-24-38. His teeth flashed in a broken smile.
"Uh, yeah. So bring them up to the reception area and we'll address the crowd together. Hell, round up the team and we'll all discuss the trade with the public. Invite the press. Pravda."
Vasiliy's smile faded. "You think this is good idea? They do not look happy."
"We're rock stars, Vasiliy. Gotta talk to our admiring public. Take our lumps when we have to. It makes the good days better."
"Ah, I see. You like the bite in the borscht, yes. The spice of the life. Very well. I will have everyone there in five minutes. Perhaps less."
Vasiliy left the office and I heard his heavy footsteps on the granite stairs. Finally I could see out the window unimpeded.
There was no mob out there. Just a few dozen men with their sons, collars turned up against the wind. Some held baseballs. Some held bats. Almost like autograph day. Back in Key West it was an annual rite as Spring Training opened.
Autograph day. Did we even have one?
I made it downstairs just as the front door opened and Vasiliy's voice boomed out a welcome. "Come in! Enjoy borscht and our good welcome. Soon we have team meeting to discuss trade. We sign everything except check. Little man, who is your favorite player?"
"Dominique!"
"Somebody call my name?" Dominique Gonnet eased into the crowd. A big smile spread across his face as he looked at the kids. "Who wants an autograph?"
Hands shot up.
Moscow, prepare for spring. Prepare for glasnost.
Moscow Mules baseball is back.