"Alright, good session guys. Go get cleaned up and get so rest." A deep voice called out.
"Thanks Coach T."
With that, the players moved off the field in groups towards the locker rooms, leaving a tall Japanese man holding a clipboard. He turned his attention to the board, making a few little notations before heading back towards the office building.
The mont he walked into the building, the cool air of the air conditioning washed over him, causing him to let out a sigh of contentnt.
"Coach T, there is a gentleman waiting for you in reception." A woman stated upon seeing the figure.
"Hmm? Alright, send them to my office in a couple of minutes please Carol."
With that, Chris grabbed himself a bottle of water out of the fridge and made his way through the now familiar office building. Popping the lid off his water, he drank a few mouthfuls before taking a seat in his comfortable office chair.
He flipped open his laptop and checked his emails briefly before there was a knock on the door.
"Co in." Chris stated.
The door opened, revealing a man who looked to be in his early 50's with salt and pepper hair. Since it was slicked back, he looked like a typical Italian mafioso.
Chris stood to his feet and asked, "How can I help you?"
"Sorry to intrude suddenly. I'm Rob Fisher, the chairman of the WWBA, it's nice to et you Chris." The man said, smiling gently while holding out his hand.
Chris was a little taken aback, what was the chairman of the WWBA doing here looking for him? Yet he was a polite person, so he held out the given hand, "Likewise. Please, take a seat." He gestured.
Rob thanked him and took the offered seat graciously. "I'm sure you must be wondering why I'm visiting you out of the blue." He said, wearing an exasperated smile.
Chris didn't really know how to reply, so he just nodded. Since the WWBA dealt with players 18 and under, the man should have no business with him, unless…
"Well, it's about your son, Ken." Rob admitted.
At the ntion of his son, Chris's expression turned a little frosty. He was quite frankly sick of being approached by people at the University of Texas inquiring about his son's plans for college. This made him rather sensitive on the matter.
Rob seed to understand Chris's plight, as he quickly placed his hands up in order to placate him. "We're not doing any funny business, so please don't get upset. The thing is, your son has been nad the number 1 recruit for the class of 2020 by Perfect Ga."
Chris looked at Rob a little skeptically, but he nodded, "And? Why did you need to see about this?"
This ti, Rob's expression turned exasperated. "You see, we've been trying to reach out to him in order to set up so interviews for the website. Unfortunately we can't get through to him on the number he provided."
At the ntion of interviews, Chris grinned slightly, knowing just how much Ken hated them. He too used to hate such things, but through many years in the professional scene, he had long grown used to it.
"You won't be able to contact him for another 3 weeks since he's in Japan. I wouldn't bother emailing him either, since he'll probably decline your interviews." Chris stated wryly.
This only made the other man disappointed, but he still accepted this. "Ah man, my wife is gonna kill ." He muttered in defeat.
Chris found the whole thing funny, but his face turned serious in the next mont. "Would you say that Ken would have a better chance of exposure if he fild this interview?"
"Mmm. Many coach's want to know more about a player aside from their numbers. After all, if a great player is uncoachable, then it could turn out to be more detrintal for the team in the long run." Rob admitted.
"Alright," Chris said after thinking for a while, "I'll force him to do the interview. Just make sure it's in 4 weeks ti before the new School year starts."
"Really!?" Rob almost shot to his feet in happiness from the news. "Thank you so much!"
The guy practically skipped out of the office once he'd been given the green light. He promised to send the details directly to Chris, so that Ken wouldn't be able to shirk his responsibilities when it ca ti.
Chris couldn't help but chuckle as the man left. All he wanted was the best for Ken, which was why he hadn't put any pressure on him to choose a college.
But before he turned his attention back to his laptop, Rob appeared once more at the door.
"Sorry, I got a little carried away and forgot what else I was going to say." He said, walking back into the office.
"Hmm?"
"Has your son decided what path to take to the Majors?" Rob asked seriously.
At the sudden question, Chris was taken aback. In all honesty, the Majors felt so far away that he hadn't even thought this far about it. The obvious and most usual path would be to play college ball for 3 to 4 years before entering the draft.
"I don't believe so." Chris admitted, "Why are you asking?"
This ti, Rob took a seat on his own accord, his face serious.
"Look, your son is probably the best High School player I've seen for a very long ti. I'm sure that at least physically, he's at or above the College level on both sides of the field."
Before Chris could respond, Rob continued, "I'm not sure that playing in College for 3 years would be what's best for your son's improvent on the baseball field."
Chris frowned, thinking deeply. "So what are you suggesting? He enters the draft right out of High School? It's too risky…" he said, seeming unconvinced.
Rob shrugged, "If MLB teams can't see his potential already, then they would be blind."
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