Dusty Baker, Office Manager: My "True" Story

I sort of hiccup-laughed. You know, when you literally burst out laughing, but you catch yourself before you complete a full laugh? It was the fact that he was dead serious shut me up. Dusty sauntered back to his office, and resumed his perch.

I watched in envy as every other employee filed out between about 4:45 and 5:30. And I was just too damn nervous and confused to follow suit. I mean, if your manager—scratch that—an actual manager manager had those damn sunglasses trained on you the whole time, you'd be scared to leave, too.

And you know the worst part? He might've been asleep the whole friggin' time! I mean, you watch 162 baseball games every year for decades; you're bound to doze off once or twice. And baseball games are more exciting than offices, let me tell you.

It was 7:37 when my illustrious manager stood up, clapping softly. He emerged from his office again to see me, hunched over at my computer, eyes glazed over from lack of blinking.

"I know you're tired son," he offered. "Be ready for me in five days. Now get some rest."

"Does that mean I can go home?"

He laughed. "Yes, but I need you back here tomorrow to cheer on your teammates."

The Third Day

I casually walked in a few minutes late the next day. I took my time brewing some coffee and running through my daily routine. Not long after, Dusty tapped me on the shoulder once again. In case you were wondering, he still had the grey and white pinstripes on, with the polished black wing tips. I don't think he was wearing it every day, though. I think all of his suits looked like that.

"Son, let me tell you something." I spun around to face him, sat back in my chair and prepared for a speech. "You're doing a lot of walking."

"I'm sorry I was a few minutes late," I said while searching for a response. "The metro was backed up pretty badly."

"It's okay, son, but I need you more aggressive. You're becoming a liability."

I froze. Was I about to be fired? Or perhaps worse, demoted to AAA? I didn't even know what I was supposed to be afraid of.

"You've been clogging up the bases, and our other guys haven't been able to do their job." I almost blurted out a 'What!?' but I resisted the temptation. "I don't ask that you be the fastest. But get up there, do what you do, and get out of the way. We're a team. If I ask you to sacrifice for the team, make sure you put your all into it. Don't get greedy to hit one out of the park. Play within yourself."

He gestured with his hands, both of them together, scooping air towards his chest. "Within yourself."

I must've visibly rolled my eyes because he saw something he didn't like one bit. "Hey! Come on now, son. Get your head in the game." He put his hands on his hips and slowly walked away, looking off into the distance, lips pursed.

I was shaken enough to actually be worried.

The Fourth Day

I came to work at 7:52 the next day, and was on the phone taking care of business by 8:00, when my manager poked his head out of his office.

"Jared, can I have a word, please?"

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