It was a cold New England Spring and Judge Cartwright’s joints were sore.
“I have been given this responsibility by the state of Rhode Island for life, and I intend to serve out my term.”
“I meant no disrespect, sir. I was simply thinking about…”
The Judge’s eyebrow raised contemptuously,
“Do you presume to know my state of affairs, Mr. Bates?”
Cuthbert Bates didn’t respond. He had worked for the Judge for too long to not know that all questions were rhetorical, especially questions asked in that tone of voice. Slowly and with great difficulty, the Judge rose from his seat leaning on his cane all the while. Bates took a step forward to help him, but thought better of the perceived insult and continued to stand at attention instead.
“Tell Meeks to get the coach ready, and I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes.”, the Judge croaked softly.
Bates went to his duty silently, and in three quarters of an hour the two men had been driven to the gates at Cartwright Stadium. By the time the clock struck the next hour, they stood on opposite sides of homeplate, the Judge in the righthand batter’s box, Bates the left.
The Judge looked over the field with its oblong shape and let out a remorseful sigh.
“Forty-eight and seventy-two. Fifty-eight and sixty-two. Thirty-nine and fifty-nine, thirty and sixty-eight.”
“Excuse me, your honor?” Bates wasn’t sure what the Judge was muttering under his breath.
“How long have you been with me now, Cuthbert”.
The Judge tilted his head down to homeplate, the brim of his hat covering his eyes, but Bates knew Cartwright’s iron gaze was focused directly at him. Like before, this question wasn’t to be answered, even so Bates tried to answer.
“Well sir, I finished school and sat for the Bar in ought-two I believe, and I came to work with you just after.”
“Six years. And you’ve excelled at everything since.” Cartwright paused a moment then changed the subject. “Cubby” as he called Bates in occasional moments of tenderness, “I’m near seventy-three years old and I know that soon I’ll be called back to the bosom of the lord.” Bates could see the old judge strain to grip his cane firmly, body shaking in the brisk evening air despite the heavy layered coat he wore.
Cartwright began to pace around the field.
“Have I not glorified the lord in the courthouse and in my home? Have I not given back to the people of this fair city? And yet, these fools. I pay them, give them an easy life of leisure and what is returned to me? They have as many losses as I have years on this Earth! I have been passive too long, overlooked too many aspects of my legacy. I let the baseball men tell me what’s what for far too long. Drunkenness, greed, malicious pride! I won’t have it anymore.”
Bates chased after the Judge trying to keep pace with the developing rant. Two laps around the base paths brought the topic near to a close, with the young lawyer no more enlightened than when they had started.
Once they had reached home plate again, the Judge finally looked back up and said.
“That my boy is why I need you here. Starting tomorrow, you will be my eyes and ears on the Angels as their new General Manager.”
Bates blanched, he couldn’t believe his ears. He was a lawyer, and only a passing interest in the game of baseball. In fact, he much preferred tennis. Furthermore, he had no experience in baseball as an enterprise, even in his career of choice he was only a journeyman. How could he run a baseball team?
The Judge had anticipated his concerns.
“You’ve always excelled at what I’ve asked of you. And this, is but one more thing for you to do. So do it well, and if you have any concerns or needs, I will be always watching…”
With that the old Judge walked away, summoning his driver Meeks with a hoary yelp. His last words rang more like a threat to Bates than a reassurance.
Cubby Bates strode to the home dugout, trying to avoid the Judge seeing his face. He had joined with Cartwright to get ahead in life, and now had been sent to… where exactly? He wondered if this was the equivalent of an exile, had he done something wrong? One thing was certain though, there was no going back, the Judge’s word was law. He was now in fact the General Manager of the Providence Angels, and if he did not deliver results, there was no knowing what could happen to him.