**OnlineHost** You have entered the Atlanta Braves Clubhouse chatroom.

as_i_lay_diaz: i don't know, ask uncle julio

Francouest: UNCLE JULIOOOO

will you help us solve this chinese finger trap you brought us from the old country

Francold: Not now, boys. I have to go.

as_i_lay_diaz: /pulls

but we can't get it off! we're stuck together! how are we supposed to play baseball?

Francold: Platoon. I don't know.

as_i_lay_diaz: :(

/continues to hit like .350

Francold: /sigh

All right, look. Here's the secret. Don't struggle. If you keep fighting, if you keep working, you'll stay with it forever. Just relax, and you'll separate from it.

Francouest: Why are you carrying suitcases? Where are you going, Uncle Julio?

Francold: Away. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Matt, eye on the ball. Jeff, keep working on your pitch selection.

**OnlineHost** Francold wants to directly connect.

**OnlineHost** Francold is now directly connected.

Francold: I'm really going to miss you guys.

**OnlineHost** Francold has left the chatroom.

**OnlineHost** PECOTA has entered the chatroom.

PECOTA: /slams door

WHERE? IS THE FRANCO

Francouest: He...he left. I don't know if he's coming back.

PECOTA: /stares intently at floor

chipper, where are schuerholz and the bobbycox

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: In the front office, PECOTA.

PECOTA: i'm going to discuss some things with them

keep the kids downstairs please

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Sure thing.

PECOTA: /calmly walks upstairs

**OnlineHost** PECOTA has left the chatroom.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Guys, I'm supposed to babysit you, but I'm listening in on this. You coming with?

as_i_lay_diaz: we can't! we're stuck in a chinese finger trap remember

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Well just walk up together or something.

as_i_lay_diaz: we can't, jeff only walks like ten times a year

Francouest: /shrugs

/swings one-handed at ball that is being pitched in some West Coast game

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Agh. Fine. Just stay put.

/creeps upstairs

/presses ear against office door

**OnlineHost** A loud commotion is heard.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Whoa.

Andraeiouandsometimesyw: What are they saying?

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Not sure yet, but he's really laying into them.

Andraeiouandsometimesyw: Jeez. What's up his ass?

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: If I had to guess? Buddy Bell has been dealing with some personal problems and he just announced he has to leave the Royals after this season. A remorseless mutant is about to claim baseball's most precious record. And now this. He's having a really tough time these days.

**OnlineHost** Sounds reverberate throughout Turner Field of objects being thrown into walls.

Andraeiouandsometimesyw: Oh shit.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Okay, I'm starting to make out what he's saying.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: He's saying that he can't comprehend his own disappointment. That the Braves have created a culture like almost none other in baseball.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: While other teams' approaches fit an "ends justify the means" philosophy, we've developed our farm system and instilled player loyalty. Over the last fifteen years or so we've been blessed with a generous payroll, and for the most part we've used it to hold onto the players we've developed.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: He's telling them that the Braves are among the last remaining bastions of team chemistry in American sports. That our integrity has been rewarded with such unprecented success that our fans are so spoiled we can't sell out playoff games. That this success is glowing testament to the idea that if a team manages and plays the game like it ought to, success will follow.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: That Julio Franco, a man of now-mediocre statistics who provides invaluable leadership to a team that a man who doesn't take the field just can't provide, was the epitome of what makes a team great, regardless of whether it wins.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: That now, we're fucking it all up and succumbing to the fever dream of free-agency and the culture of dispensationalism that we resisted for so long.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: And that though everyone is calling us "free-agency winners" and "instant World Series contenders", even if we do win a championship, we just lost what made us truly great.

**OnlineHost** A World Series trophy crashes through the window.

Andraeiouandsometimesyw: This isn't like PECOTA. I don't get it.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: He's hard to read sometimes. But I do know that in the past, whenever he's encountered pure evil or stupidity, he's resigned himself to counseling and aiding the oppressed.

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Now he's just simply, and devastatingly, disappointed in people that are capable of so much more.

**OnlineHost** PECOTA has entered the chatroom.

PECOTA: /stares

i am

/clears throat

PECOTA: I AM SORRY! YOU WERE MADE TO HEAR THAT

/whistles

PECOTA: /listens in vain for roar of engine he does not hear

AChipOffTheOl'_erJones: Where's your motorcycle?

PECOTA: SHE LIKELY! HAS ENGINE TROUBLE; I HAVE BEEN RIDING HER HARD AS OF LATE

PECOTA: YOU! ARE LEAVING FOR FREE AGENCY AT SEASON'S END, I SUPPOSE

Andraeiouandsometimesyw: Yeah.

PECOTA: /waits

**OnlineHost** The motorcycle still does not come.

PECOTA: TONIGHT; PECOTA! SHALL TAKE THE LONG WALK HOME