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I Dedicate This Death to Odin

Roger Bossard had never been asked to construct a funeral pyre.  He relished the new challenge.  He set about collecting a bat from each player and scouring through the bins of remainders from the past weekend's Grinder Bash.  The Aesir would be proud.  You lord over the ceremony from the Fundamentals deck, looking down at the burning mound of bats and once proud baseball player.  A proud tear falls from your eye as you feel a hand upon your back.  You turn and notice a strange old one-eyed man behind you, leaning on one of the largest bats you've ever seen.


"Can I help you Rooster Cogburn?  You must be lost since I don't see Ned Pepper's gang anywhere around here." you playfully rib the old wanderer.

"It's been too long you impetuous bastard" he says through his warm laughter.  "I haven't heard from you since you sent me Aaron Rowand's career!"

"I need guidance and felt this borderline Hall of Famer a worthy and noble offer." Your humility surprises even you.

"Aye, my son.  All shall be fine."

"You wanted to see me sir?" Hahn asks nervously as he enters the room.  He notices a strange dark bird sitting dangerously close to your ear.

"Rick, I'd like you to meet your replacement.  This is Huginn.  It's time we let you spread your wings.  You're due to replace Mike Rizzo in Washington in the morning.  Good luck finding replacements for Ryan Zimmerman and Drew Storen.  You've served me well."

A startled, yet optimistic Rick Hahn walks slowly out of your office.  He knows he owes you now you realize as Huginn whispers more trade opportunities in your ear.  This will be a fine arrangement indeed.