Performance Enhancement

Marty Miller was ill-at-ease. He had been the Yankees' Performance Enhancement Coach for only three months, and already there had been a string of injuries. Six of the top seven Yankee starting pitchers had missed time in the still-young season, not exactly a ringing endorsement for Miller's ability to enhance the team's performance.

As he sat alone, waiting for his meeting with The Boss, he tried to console himself with the fact that he had followed The Boss' directives. While he had never met The Boss, Miller had a somewhat checkered past, and this wouldn't be the first time he was called on the carpet for uneven results. He had some experience dealing with cloudy figures who pulled the strings from behind the scenes. But he had never before been responsible for the health of a $200 million organization, and he had heard many chilling stories of how The Boss had dealt with those who had failed him in the past. Tales of brutality that had never reached the public consciousness. Tales that he had only become aware of through the unusual channels. But he hoped that, by following orders, he had ensured his job security. As Miller pondered his fate, the receptionist interrupted his thoughts, instructing him to enter the conference room.

The conference room is somewhat spartan, with only four chairs and a long table. The walls are devoid of color, and there are no windows. At the head of the table sits The Boss, wearing a cloak that obscures his face. The only object on the table is a small telephone. Miller sits in a chair at the opposite side of the table. No one else is in the room.

TB: Tell me of Wang.
MM: He pulled a hamstring doing those start and stop sprints after a practice, as you instructed me to have him do.
TB: What of Pettitte?
MM: His injury occurred because he wasn't wearing the lifting belt, as per your request.
TB: And young Hughes?
MM: I thought we should have him stretch before the start, but you recommended that he didn't. To be honest, I didn't really think skipping the stretching was a good idea.
TB: You will find that it is you who are mistaken. About a great many things.
MM: Well, what about Rodriguez? He's been doing pretty well so far.
TB: Yes. Player of the Month.
MM: I got your instructions for his training regimen, but I didn't think it would work. So I used some of my own ideas. I'd say he was our greatest success.
TB: You will pay the price for your lack of vision.

The door opens. Ugueth Urbina enters, brandishing a large machete. He is accompanied by Carl Everett. Everett appears to be armed only with a nasty disposition. Miller glares at The Boss, his expression a mixture of recognition and abject terror.

TB: Fool. Only now, at the end, do you understand.

Miller is forcibly removed from the room. The Boss speaks into the phone.

TB (into phone): Get me Radomski.

The Boss removes the hood from his head.

THEO EPSTEIN (to self): Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen...