Name Changers

The personal jet looked spacious. Amenities like champagne, cigars, and caviar all helped to ease the money making minds.

“That’s a good point. If we change the name of the teams, it will be a fresh start to all of it,” Payden Batson mentioned. She sipped some champagne from twenty years ago.

“Okay. So we switch it up. Maybe do a drawing. A sweepstakes! Whoever comes up with the winning name gets $10,000 and a season in the skybox,” Angelo Targis exclaimed.

“That’s brilliant, Angelo,” she said. “Once we come up with the winning moniker, we’ll have to hold some kind of auction for the memorabilia that seemed to rub people the wrong way.”

“Absolutely,” he replied. “‘The Black Skins’ will no longer beca sore on our sides for decades. Though people did love the buck on the logo running from the massa!” He puffed on a cigar.

“He’s finished. Finito. Done.” The clinked glasses.

“Oh no,” Payden winced, looking at her camera.

“‘Oh no’ what?” Targis asked, agitation rising in his voice.

“They’re ransacking the front of the home field. They’ve just toppled the statue of Liro the Hero. Small fires are blazing around the ballpark. This can’t be happening.”

“We addressed the matter and made it known that we would be on the vanguard for resolving this issue. We put out press statements and even made a conference. The sweepstakes was supposed to be the frosting and the cherry,” Targis replied.

“We’ll think of it. I know. Wait. So you still have the link to the news channels in Wilmington?”

“Sure.”

“Call them and let them know when we land, Delaware will be in a state of order,” Payden declared.

Targis dialed. His boss, Payden, looked out the window.

“Hi, This is Targis. Yes. I can wait,” he looked over at Payden and rolled his eyes.

“We’re experiencing a riot by the fanatics down here at the ball field. News trucks from Philly are even coming down to capture the spectacle. Wherever you are, you should get down here as quickly as possible. There are no injuries or fatalities to report, but that could change. ASAP.”

“Roger,” Targis responded. He tapped his screen to signal off the phone.

They landed in New Castle. A Goulding luxury sedan pulled up and permitted the two of them access.

“We should be there in about ten minutes. This goddamn traffic. I wanted to be the first in line. We’re going to need bodyguards,” Payden announced.

“They’re doing what they did six years ago when the Black Skins won the championship. It’s always interesting when the winning team causes an uproar. Anyway, I’m deploying some members of security that haven’t already been summoned.”

“Good,” Payden said. “We’ve got to indicate that the name change was on its way and that we were going to reward the person who figured out the best title.”

The Goulding smoothed its way up the back of the building where no crowds existed. The parking garage swallowed the vehicle and they floated by press and a few fanatics who caught the car entering the building. Security had beefed up by then.

“We’re going to go by our wits on this,” Payden mentioned.

“That’s right. We make our way to that podium and we just call for peace in the streets. I mean streets got no love but there can at least be peace amongst the citizens. I mean we’re talking about a franchise here. What these people are doing to this ballpark is disturbing. We’ll tally the arrests at the end.”

“You can bet that never gotta sweat that,” Targis replied.