The July night was warm and humid but in the small parlor of the executive suite at Petco Park a roaring fire burned brightly on the OLED flat screen above AJ and Peter.
The two were at chess, AJ taking radical chances putting his king into peril as Peter surveyed skeptically.
AJ gasped recognizing a fatal mistake after it was already too late. “Hark at the marine layer” he declared, directing Peter’s attention out the window in an attempt to distract him from seeing the error.
“Yes I see it” said Peter grimly surveying the pieces on the board. He stretched out his hand moving the key piece. “Checkmate”
AJ grimaced. “I need some air”
AJ walked down the steep staircase onto the dark streets of the Gaslamp. He chose a direction at random and strolled into the night. The ballgame had ended hours ago but the weight of the loss still hung thick in the air. Suppressive. A lodestone around his neck. “I need a pick me up.” he muttered to himself.
The streets were quiet, any post-game revelry long since extinguished. The storefronts were mostly dark. But one was lit, glowing like a last smoldering ember. AJ walked up to it. There was no sign above the door, but the warm light emanating from within was oddly inviting. Strange, he thought. He’d walked these streets a thousand times after Padres losses, had this store always been there?
He opened the door, a set of chimes jingling as he entered. The inside was a menagerie of Padres curiosities. In one display sat the game ball from the Dock Ellis’ LSD infused no-hitter, in another was the home plate Matt Holliday never touched. In the corner a mannequin wore a ‘Padres 1998 World Series Champions’ shirt and cap. Towards the back of the room a display caught his eye. A stone table, ornately carved, upon which an ancient baseball glove lay.
AJ was drawn to it, like a moth to flame.
“Pick it up if you like”
The voice startled AJ. Behind him stood a robed figure. He must be the store owner, AJ thought.
AJ reached for the glove.
The robed figure spoke: “It’s an ancient artifact. It was once worn by Ted Williams during his rookie season with the Padres in 1936. They called it the Friar’s Paw.”
AJ touched the dry leather. “I forgot Ted Williams once played for the Padres.”
The robed figure began again, “They say it granted him his wish to be the greatest hitter of all-time.”
AJ closed his eyes thinking about the terrible offensive drought the Padres were in. “I wish we had a player like Ted Williams” he muttered.
AJ shrieked and threw the glove to the ground. “It moved!” he said incredulously to the robed figure before him.
The proprietor met his eyes with a sad gaze and bent down to retrieve the glove. He handed it to AJ wordlessly.
“I, I thought it moved…” AJ looked down at the now still glove in his hand.
His phone buzzed:
AJ was stunned. He looked again at the glove in his hand. Was one of the fingers curled inward now?
“I have to go!” AJ said. “How much for the glove?”
The robed figure said somberly “You don’t pay for the Friar’s Paw with money. It’s yours now.”
“Thanks!” AJ said quickly making his way to the door.
He stepped out into glaring sunlight.
“How long was I in there?” He asked himself. He couldn’t be sure. He turned around to look once more on the strange shop. To his disbelief he was in front of the defunct Ciro’s Pizza storefront.
He looked down again at the glove in his hand.
“I wish we could get rid of Hosmer.” he whispered
This time he felt it for sure, like the stealthy slither of a snake the glove moved and he saw now that two fingers were curled inward.
AJ was feeling confident. He was going to trade for Juan Soto, whatever the cost. And he would find a way to move Hosmer. Then Luke Voit could take over at first! Really, anything would be an improvement over Hosmer, right? If he could wish away Hosmer the Padres first base situation would get vastly better!
AJ was on a roll, and not for the first time! Remembering the spotty performance of his team’s closer he made his third wish. “I wish the Brewers would just finally give up Hader.” he said, recalling his multi-year pursuit of the league’s best closer. Again the glove moved, three fingers curled inward now.
AJ was beaming. But suddenly he felt a twinge of guilt, he hadn’t given the proprietor anything in exchange for the glove that was changing the Padres fortunes.
At that moment a figure in the recessed doorway of the defunct Ciro’s stirred. AJ hadn’t noticed him before, slumped in the shadows wearing a tattered robe. The figure looked directly at AJ and rasped:
“You don’t pay for the Friar’s Paw with money.”
Unnerved, AJ stumbled backwards and retreated towards Petco. What did the robed figure mean? Had he imagined the whole episode? He’d been awake for days after all…
As the familiar confines of the ballpark rose before him he regained his confidence. He took out his phone and flipped through his contacts. He was momentarily dismayed when he couldn’t find Mike Rizzo’s number under the R’s, but quickly remembered that after the Scherzer debacle he’d moved Rizzo’s contact. He allowed himself a rueful smile as he scrolled to the A’s. There it was: Arnold, Benedict.
Arriving at Petco he walked up the stairs towards Peter’s office ready lay out his foolproof plan to change the Padres fate.
Before he entered, AJ grew serious. He still had a wish left. What else could he wish for to turn the Padres fortunes? In a moment of inspiration it came to him:
“I wish Tatis would find a way to heal from his injury faster” he whispered, and the final finger on the glove curled inward.
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