Prequel--An OOTP History

[SelzShoes]

About 1/2 way through playing the 1880 season. Should have it done over the long weekend.

[fantastic flying froggies]

Good, I was starting getting worried.

[SelzShoes]

Originally Posted by fantastic flying froggies

Good, I was starting getting worried.

I've just been playing with 6.5 too much to focus on this dynasty! 6.5--good for more modern eras, not so much for 19th century.

This is a loooooong term project to get where I want to be (at least 1 year, probably longer), so breaks like this will happen time to time. Good to know people are still interested--but truthfully, I'd be doing it like this even without an audience. Ok, I might not be writing stuff down like this, but I'd still be making up the stories.

[fantastic flying froggies]

Oh, I know you've said already those breaks would happen, and it's probably just as well in order to keep your interest and creative skills up to the standard you've already set.

[SelzShoes]

From the New York World

While the Empire League, once the unchallenged monolith lording over base ball, wallows in a flurry of anger and threats a new hope for the Grand American Game is flourishing. With parks closed and players restless to feel the blood heat with competition, the Columbia Association is the only outlet for superior base ball play at the moment. While executives and official dicker over the concept of a schedule; the Columbia Association takes to the field with a full slate of games.

Many thought the defection of Aubrey Fairie, the self-proclaimed King of the Diamond, to the Louisville squad was an aberration. Now, former foes and allies alike look at the foresight of the King—he is pulling a weekly pay envelope, while the Empire attempts to package a slate of games. Some may claim the harm done by the “European” schemes of Columbus and Indianapolis is only a temporary thing. These people need to be reminded base ball is not a method for a man to become rich. It is for men to soothe an unfulfilled lust for glory. People require food and raw goods; that is why these industries can withstand setbacks. True, entertainment and leisure are needed, but a base ball league is not a need. Thousands who proclaimed themselves Empire-Mad Cranks now fill parks for the Columbia. This two-week delay in play for the Empire may as well have the feel of a wake for the living.

[SelzShoes]

“Mr. Crow, do you not enjoy being in our employ?”

“Certainly I do sir; Chicago is a wonderful city to be pursuing my career in ball and education.”

“Then can you explain this?” The owner of the Chicago Browns threw an edition of the Chicago Eagle towards his prized starter. A portion of a story circled, in red ink for dramatic effect. A statement stood at the heart of the scarlet loop: “The Columbia Association is the best thing to happen to the ballplayer since the invention of the game. I hope it’s existence will result in men being able to make the game a vocation, not just summer employment.”

“Are these your words?”

“Yes sir.”

“You feel a group of interlopers trying to ruin my business is good?”

“Well, competition is good for the workers, it forces. . .” The hurler was cut off with a dismissive motion.

“This league might not have survived its first season with competition. The underhanded dealings of the Columbians may wreck this league; is that the type of competition you think is good for business?”

”Well, sir, even if the Empire fails, I shall have no problem finding a club to stride the box for.”

“Your words are seditious and detrimental to this club. I am suspending you without pay for 10 days.”

The young man slunk into his chair. “I’m bound by contract to honor you suspension, but I shall not be glad about it.”

Crow rose to exit the meeting as McCormick got in a parting shot. “Thinking about joining your pal Fairie in Louisville?”

“No sir, I have a contract to honor, and honor it I shall. But understand, at the end of the season, when it expires, I shall have the leverage, not you.”

[SelzShoes]

The Claremont Hotel, St. Louis.
He could not remember the pain being this intense, but, he grimly noted, he seemed to feel that way everyday. Grabbing his suitcase, he made his way toward the floor’s toilet; he couldn’t imagine using one of the out buildings from his younger days. Four walls and blinding white porcelain made the whole affair take on a heavenly feel.

It had been four years since the pain had become unbearable. The split, swollen hands. Innumerable breaks. And collections of bruises that made him look like a half---- most days. But his life was saved that day in New York; at least his career was. Drinking like an Irishman to dull the pain, that fellow at the bar had shown him a different way. None of the problems of alcohol, he promised just relief and peace. Growing up around slaughterhouses and ballplayers, the promise of peace was almost more appealing than the subsidence of pain. All whiskey and beer did was make a man agitated, willing to fight over imagined slights. And the toll on the body was as hard as the game.

But now, he was a slender—gaunt some said—figure on the field. The older players said he ‘looked’ like a catcher, weary and thoughtful. True, some days the only thought was getting the game over to get rid of the pain. Maybe even not swinging as hard or fielding as alertly as he should, but the pain got too much at the end of they day. He sat on the cool tile and opened his suitcase. A cheap paperboard one, but it did the job—couldn’t remember when he sold his leather one. He lifted out the smaller case, now his most prized possession; slowly, almost ritualistically opening it.

He noted he was running low on the morphine packs, as well as the Coca Tonic he needed before the game to shake off the cobwebs the shot sometimes brought. Carefully he put the syringe together and drew in the liquid. He reminded himself not to draw past the dosage mark the pharmacist had etched on the glass, but his fingers drew back half again as far. “Too many balls off the shins today couldn’t hurt,” same thing he had told himself the days before. And then, as slowly as he started, it was over so fast. Quickly he packed everything together, knowing how long he had to get back to his room before the relief and peace overtook him.

[SelzShoes]

for all the positive feedback I recieved on this when I was active. I'm sorry I wasn't able to take it all the way to the end, but I reached a point where I needed to get away from message boards for a time.

While I will not be continuing this dynasty, I will be starting a new one soon, and hope you will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed bringing this one to life.

[fantastic flying froggies]

Sad to see this dynasty 's over I really enjoyed it...
FWIW, it is one of my nominees for the Golden Scribe awards...

I will definitely look at any other dynasty you put up...