Page 35 of The Third Baseman

“I’m sure you can figure it out, Marnie. I’m paying you a million dollars.”

Yeah. He was definitely the type of guy used to getting his own way, or finding a way around it. But I’d worked with many of those.

“Just take it off Jupiter’s salary. That’s the real reason I’m here, isn’t it?” I snapped.

He had the good sense to look down at his coffee, but I could definitely see a smile curving along his lip. If Lowe was anything to go by, I’d wager he was also used to women not doing his bidding.

“Astrodynamics can’t give you a winning team overnight. I can modify some formulas, and we can work on it, but it will also require the team to make physical adaptations to their game. That’s harder.”

I waited for him to argue again, but instead, he sipped his coffee and stared at me.

“Anyway, when we were in high school, Jupiter used to love LifeSavers. He had this thing about them helping him win. They didn’t, but he thought they did...”

“But you let him think they did though, right? If they helped him, you encouraged that? Right?” he interrupted with a splutter.

I blinked at the expression on Penn’s face, like he’d be horrified at any other outcome; that the idea of me not believing in Jupiter’s LifeSaver fallacy was somehow unacceptable to him.

“Um… sure. Anyway... I’ve been reading a book on improvement data and the theory that if you can improve tiny things in your life by one percent, when added up, they can have a significant impact on overall improvement.” Picking up the book I’d brought with me, I placed it in front of him, open at one of the pages I’d highlighted and pointed to it. “So this is what I think we should do. Improve tiny things at the club. It’s what I think will get you – the team – to the top.”

He didn’t look at the book. Instead, he sat back with his arms linking over his head. “What kind of tiny things?”

I opened up my phone to the picture I’d taken, and passed it to him.

He was silent for a minute as he read it. His eyes moved slowly over the screen, while he stroked his stubble.

“Sweat rates? Energy expenditure? Sleep? Metabolism? Eating schedules? Hydration levels?” His eyebrows shot up as he worked his way down the extensive list I’d written on my office wall. “Pillows? What do pillows have to do with anything?”

I shifted slightly and uncrossed my legs to sit up straighter. “Sleep is vital to function properly. The team is traveling all the time, in different beds most nights. We know it’s hard to sleep in unfamiliarity. If they bring their pillows from home, they have one piece of consistency to help them get a better night’s sleep. Therefore, better performance the next day.”

I couldn’t tell if the grunt Penn let out was a good grunt or a bad grunt.

“Equipment storage?”

“Yes. Make sure all equipment is stored in the same way when traveling as it is during home games. It’s just an example,” I added quickly when Penn’s frown deepened.

I sat there, waiting. There was still a ton on that list he hadn’t read out. Some were more easily explainable than the rest – like keeping to the same schedule – meal times, sleep times etc. no matter where they were. Which meant it would be easier to travel if everyone went to bed much later in the evening, and slept later in the morning.

He picked up the textbook I’d also shared, and flicked through a couple of pages in silence. “This is interesting, Marnie. Very interesting. I don’t know why I haven’t thought of it before. Why didn’t I know about it?”

I shrugged. There was no way to answer that particular question.

He stroked his beard again then leaned forward, as if to confide a secret. “One of my plans here is to build an analytics team. There hasn’t been one here before because this club hasn’t had the budget, but the Yankees has one, and it’s been working. Not to mention the A’s.”

“The A’s?” My face scrunched slightly, which he correctly took to understand that I didn’t understand, and needed him to explain further.

“The Oakland A’s used analytics to win in the face of a low budget and players they couldn’t afford. It shot them up the standings…”

I continued to stare blankly. The only word I really understood in that sentence was analytics.

“They made a movie about it.”

Again, nothing.

“Brad Pitt was in it.”

“Oh. I haven’t seen it.” I still wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I knew I hadn’t seen a movie with Brad Pitt, because it had been years since I’d seen a movie, period.

It earned me an eye roll. “Anyway, the Yankees have an entire department studying the numbers, and I wanted something similar, but with edge.” He pointed at me before continuing, “You just might be the edge.”

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