First we take Steskia, then we take…
“It’s not enough!”
It was Aslak shouting. He’d been at it for a while. All throughout dinner actually. He had started out reasonable enough, but things escalated quickly. It was a kind tribute speech to the team at first. How proud he was of all their accomplishments so far. It had been fairly otherworldly, these days in Adaikes. They were on a roll, no doubt about it. You can never be completely sure about there being some sort of baseball deity, but the start of the International Slam sure made it seem likely. Because it wouldn’t really make sense otherwise. Anyways, it started out nicely, and people were feeling good about themselves. That guy with the biretta had even brought his harmonica and was really looking forward to show off his skills. But Aslak wouldn’t shut up. He rarely did when he first got started. They were used to it, but now things had really gotten out of hand.
“This is just peanuts, peanuts I tell you! The Slam? That’s just the beginning. My plan for this team is nothing less than world domination! After we pulverize anyone who dares step up against us here and leave nothing but ashes behind, we are going straight to the World Baseball Classic and we are going strike fear into the hearts of those that would even dream about…”
Aslak stopped abruptly. One of the infielders had her hand up. He usually responded to raised hands, something they’d learned to take advantage of quickly. Aslak nodded to her and waved his hands as a clear indication of annoyance.
“I think we need to cool it a bit, Aslak. We’re all very happy about how well we’ve done, but let’s not go all crazy. We’ve played well, yes, but we’ve also been incredibly lucky. No, like really, ridiculously lucky.”
Aslak shook his head. “No, luck has nothing to do with it. This destiny manifested. It is known. And we’re not stopping until we’re at the very top of global baseball because…”
He stopped again. Another hand in the air. It was the guy with the murdered cat. His name was Jerry, by the way, and he played outfield by the third base on occasion. Never one of the strongest player, but he had a nice disposition and was well-liked.
“You know nations compete in the World Baseball Classic, right? Like, not friendship associations.”
Aslak stood in silence. But only for a while. He wasn’t quite at that point where he started drifting off. This was just a minor inconvenience.
“So we become a nation! We secede from the Union and establish ourselves as the Republic of Segeltorp. If the Union is stuck in its old ways and can’t see the light and purity of our mission, we’ll have to create our own destiny! And if those fat cats down in Port Kejm even think twice about bringing us back into the fold I will personally lead…”
He stopped talking again. No raised hands this time, just a kick in the leg from Lars. Aslak turned around and looked at his old friend. “Aslak, this is just like that time when were kids and we built that fort, and you got so caught up in how great it was you just wanted to keep expanding it, secede from the Union, and use it as a base for waging war on the central government. It’s enough already. People want dessert.”
Aslak looked at Lisa, and she nodded. “He’s right Aslak. Cool it. Focus on the next game. And let people have their Semifreddos. Ok?”
Aslak cleared his throat and looked at his friends. “Focus on the here and now? Like that mindfulness lady said?”
Lisa and Lars nodded.
