Motoichi Matsuo

I recently joined a baseball simulation league. Its like fantasy baseball, except absolutely everything is fake. All the players are fake, the league is fake, the teams are fake, the games are fake. We simulate 10 games of the 162 season three times a week, and post stories about how are team was developing. This week was the sim for opening day of the 2028 season, and I noticed that the computer brought in my closer to play shortstop in a long game after I ran out of infielders. Here's a little piece I wrote about the fake experience:

The game on Friday, April 7th, 2028 was filled with buzz. It was the first Friday night game of the year, and the Mexico City fans were eager to see their boys trounce the schmucks from the Far East. Los Diablos Rojos had just suffered a humiliating three game sweep at the hands of the growingly powerful Taipei Tigers, and after a day of rest, were hungry to show their Far East brethren what they could do. The Samurai had just been drubbed three games to none by the defending champion Bogota Toros, including a 6 hit shutout at the hands of Jose Gonzalez. The flight from Bogota felt like it took days, with Joe Mitchell complaining about his back. He'd like everyone to think he was spiked at a play at a base, but the doctor said he hurt a herniated disc. "Great, the new guy can't last one week," they all mumbled. Beleaguered, they sloshed into the visitor's dugout and got ready for their game.

With Mitchell out, the lineup seemed to be without much hassle. Defensive whiz Victor Flores took over at short, and everyone else took their usual spots around the diamond. Miguel Colon took his seat on the bench as the lone utility infielder, but he was never without company, as the Samurai struggled to put runs on the board in the early going. Going into the 7th, the score was 3-1 Mexico City, and the Samurai had struggled to convert what few opportunities they had. The air seemed more damp; it was like the team was already saddling up for a long season, and we were only on game 4. Granho lead off with a long flyball that had promise, but died when it hit the depression layer that had settled over the stadium from Tokyo's hopes.

Without warning though, third baseman Mario Sanchez put an end to that, and roped a single up the middle on the first pitch. Sanchez wasn't known for his baserunning by any means, and almost by instinct, Tony Bickford sprinted out to take his place. The red hot Miguel Martinez, who tore through Spring Training and kept his heat alive through the opening days ballista'd a 2-2 pitch to left center, which left the speedy Bickford with little trouble scoring. Suddenly it was 3-2, and Mexico city starter Andres Ramirez was kicking the dirt a lot more than usual. Jack Hamilton worked a six pitch walk, and suddenly the Samurai were down 1, had men on 1st and 2nd, and one out. This was the closest they could get. Without hesitation, Flores was called back to the dugout, and the career minor leaguer Vincent Rice was sent forward. The Samurai couldn't afford to blow this chance.

Unfortunately, Rice proved his skill. He went down swinging on four pitches, and despite a single to left by Tomas Moreno which couldn't slow molasses-footed Martinez, the Samurai failed to score, asJuan Herrera grounded out to end the inning.

"Uhh, Coach?"

"Get out there Vince, we got baseball goin on!"

"I don't have an infielder's glove."

Suddenly panic lurched up the spine of manager Ralph Tsuyoii. Without thinking, the Samurai were without infielders. Mitchell was in no shape to play, and Rice hadn't played the infield since he was 10.

"Get on the horn, tell him to get in there."

"Sir, you don't mean...?"

"Yeah, he's our only shot."

"But sir, you promised his mother..."

"I KNOW WHAT I PROMISED JENKINS. If this team is going to get anywhere, people are going to have to step up. His father would've wanted it this way."

Slowly the bullpen gate opened. The audio team scrambled to find music for a pitching change, but there wasn't a report of a pitching change. The cameras panned in to figure out what was going on. Apparently Tokyo was bringing in their closer, Motoichi Matsuo down by one in the bottom of the 7th. The club scrambled to play his usual entrance music but he wasn't sprinting as quickly as he usually did. He seemed to be taking long strides, like he was stretching out. Even the infielders seemed to be confused. Then it all became clear.

Motoichi Matsuo was brought in to play Shortstop.

With Colon playing 2nd base for Hamilton, the Samurai needed someone to fill in. Matsuo, a pitcher known for his glovework, was taking grounders at short with relative ease. The Mexico City fans and announcers were ruthless. They seemed to laugh in unison at him, until they saw him play. The Samurai hopeful were cringing at first, but then grew comfortable with the situation. They slowly forgot that their closer was playing shortstop and tiring himself out, and the game dragged on. And on. And on. Suddenly it was the 13th inning and Matsuo was still in. He was awful at the plate, but the guy could pick.

The Samurai ended up losing that game. It was a long drawn out affair, and the Samurai finished 0-7 on the week; Matsuo himself 0/2, though with zero errors and one double play. As he left the park, Matsuo trotted back out to shortstop one last time. He picked up some of the dirt, and put it in his pocket. He looked skyward and smiled. He seemed to utter something as a single tear streamed down his cheek.

"I'm sorry."