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Spanish,” George said.
    I looked at Sam and said:
    â€” This son of a whore has gone crazy.
    â€œI know that word,
loco
. You think I’m crazy, Ryan?”
    â€œWe both think you’re crazy, George.”
    â€œYou know, I could go out in this city right now and I could buy Spanish interpreters a dime a dozen. Every courtroom’s got them, every Puerto Rican grocery, every —”
    â€œGeorge, your veins are starting to stand out and that carotid artery is gonna fill your ears with blood in a minute. Just calm down and tell us what you want.”
    He was quiet for a second. I looked at Sam and he looked at me. We waited.
    â€œI get rid of Hoak Wilson at noon. One million in cash and assumption of his contract. I’ve already made three point five million and got rid of twenty-two million in contracts and obligations. My accountant is going crazy, this is the best news the Yankees have had since Joe DiMaggio.”
    â€œI’m happy for you, George.”
    â€œNaw, you’re not happy, but I don’t care. I’m happy. You’re just lucky. Lucky you grew up in Texas and learned to speak spic with the Mexicans. I mean, Spanish.”
    Sam said nothing. I could have made a corrective cluck, but it wasn’t worth it. George didn’t mean anything; he just talks that way.
    â€œWhy’s it lucky, George?”
    He stared at me. And then glanced at Sam. “He speak Spanish okay, Sam?”
    â€œHe’s okay,” Sam said in his way, shrugging his shoulders. He wasn’t my buddy and I didn’t expect him to go out of his way for me.
    George glared at Sam with his Gila eyes as though he could laser the truth out of him. Then he said, “Okay, Sam. That’s it. See you around later.”
    Sam sat there.
    â€œCome on, Sam. I got things to do. To discuss.”
    â€œThat’s it?” Sam finally said. He started to rise.
    â€œYeah, you got work back at the Stadium and I got things to do. Just keep this under your hat, okay?”
    Sam, shrugged again.
    â€œUnderstand?” George warned him.
    â€œSi,” Sam said. If he had a sombrero, he would have held it across his belly to show respect for
el patron
, Sam pulls that Mexican peasant thing when he wants to show his contempt for you. I could see he didn’t understand a damned thing. Neither did I.
    Sam opened the door and went out, closing it behind him.
    George pranced around his desk on those surprisingly small feet and grabbed at a pile of papers.
    â€œSign these,” he said.
    â€œWhoa,” I said, holding up my hand. “I gotta read them first.”
    â€œIt’s all boilerplate, the usual crap. See, this is the last contract you signed and this is the one you’re going to sign. The same.”
    â€œExcept for less money,” I said.
    â€œYou agreed.”
    â€œI agreed. But what’s this?”
    â€œAn agreement not to disclose confidential information. It’s becoming very routine in the business world.”
    â€œNot disclose what, George?”
    â€œConfidential information “
    â€œLike what, George?”
    â€œConfidential information that you don’t have yet but you may acquire in the course of your duties with the New York American League baseball club,” he said.
    â€œWhy, you gonna raise ticket prices and not tell anyone until they show up at the stadium?”
    â€œBigger than that, Ryan.”
    â€œYou’re going to move to New Jersey.”
    â€œSign it.”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said, scanning the sheets of paper.
    â€œLook, if you’re going to be Boswell to my Johnson, I need to trust you.”
    â€œYou going to write a dictionary? Maybe a Spanish-English dictionary?”
    â€œI’m going to reinvent baseball,” George said.
    Major league ball club owners talk this way as they teeter along from crisis to crisis. Read the sports pages today and the baseball news is all