Thanks to Mickey

Kyle was a man of few words. He simply said, “The data”. The presenter gave an uneasy half smile. A small bead of perspiration formed on his forehead. With a click, the graph appeared on the 72 inch screen. Kyle insisted on this large screen format. He leaned forward to examine the scales represented on each axis. He thought “Numbers can be squeezed or stretched into many realities”. 

Each of the five presenters had exactly ten minutes to make their pitch. No snacks. No drinks. No small talk. Just business. In the short flight from Boston to DC Kyle would hear from executives representing major industries of the world. In the moments between each presentation Kyle glanced out the window to observe the towering cumulus clouds pass by slowly below. For a second he thought of how lucky he was to be flying above the storms below as his private jet took him above it all.

Kyle’s 35,000 foot business meetings worked very well. His turf. His time. His way. The five presenters were done and dismissed. Kyle closed his eyes as the pilot announced their descent had begun. The presenters chatted softly with the two assistants that each were allowed to bring aboard. Some glanced back at Kyle to search for some clue about his opinion. 

Kyle sat back in his wide, deep leather chair. He did not touch the handouts and brochures that were offered at the opening of the presentations. Those paper pleas for attention remained ignored on a table nearby. Kyle showed no emotion. His body language was zero. Kyle’s brain was in a closed session. His eyes remained shut reminding others- do not disturb. Finally, as the plane was gently jostled by passing clouds Kyle’s eyes opened and he sipped a scotch that was poured at exactly the right time by a smartly dressed male attendant. 

The jet landed with hardly a bump. It sped quickly to a small runway strip near the terminal. A small fleet of limos awaited with doors open. The meeting was over and the presenters and their staff quietly departed without a word. They all knew the rules- don’t talk, just go. Kyle sat quietly as the others departed. He closed his eyes, as was his custom, and he sat motionless. Nobody would disturb him. Nobody will speak until Kyle allowed it. 

Even Kyle’s suit obeyed. This perfectly tailored soft wool suit stretched and moved in complete harmony and obedience to Kyle’s every gesture without signs of any disorganization or confusion. It seemed to be self-pressing somehow. The pure white linen shirt, open at the collar, was also impeccably tailored and impervious to any hint of a wrinkle. Kyle thought for a second about his appearance. He didn’t do that very often. “That’s what 10 grand will buy”.

Of course, Kyle had actually made up his mind two minutes after the final presentation. This quiet time was his ritual. Yes, he did use it to review the data and reaffirm his decision. More importantly, this quiet time was a time to think back fondly of Mickey and his humble beginning in a small backyard in a crowded and semi-poor neighborhood.  He attributed much of his success to Mickey who was the one who showed him anything is possible with hard work and a bit of luck. 

Finally, after several minutes, Kyle rose and walked forward along the deep, soft maroon colored  carpet toward the door of his jet. The captain tipped his hat to Kyle, acknowledged with a smile and a nod. Kyle paused before leaving the jet as he looked up and took it all in. Nobody ever asked why a gold plated wiffle ball bat was mounted and hung over the jet doorway. 

Sinking into the fine Corinthian leather seat of the limo, the door was closed with barely a sound. As the limo pulled away into the Business World, Kyle was transported to the backyard of 50 years ago. It was the bottom of the ninth in the 7th and deciding game. Two outs and the bases were loaded. The Yanks were down by 3 runs. Mickey at the plate. The ball was tossed into the air. It seemed to hang and spin slowly like the bone in the opening scene of 2001. As it slowly dropped the mighty wiffle ball bat struck the ball. The blast saw the ball rise nearly to the edge of space. It almost disappeared as it soared over the neighbor’s two story house to the field beyond. 

At that moment Kyle was sure, anything is possible with the help of Mickey.