Congratulations to the best team in baseball…The Boston Red Sox. I (gulp) said it, despite being a lifetime Baltimore Oriole fan. Besides the obvious, winning more games than anyone else and winning at the right time, there is a good reason why the Red Sox won the World Series. There is also a reason why the Orioles finished with the worst record in baseball, not to mention their franchise history. It is all about business leadership and business management along with the right human resources, all working together to put together an excellent strategic business plan.

Yes, baseball, along with all sport franchises, is a business. Now that we established that fact, we can move forward. When franchise owners invest in a franchise, they do so with the intent of a bottom line…making a profit. The best way to make a profit in any franchise is to have the best product or service...better than anyone else does (See McDonalds, Apple, Amazon, etc.). With sport franchises, this means winning games…winning more than any other of their competition.

This may seem like stating the obvious, but in order for a franchise to reach this goal, a solid, winning business franchise needs to be better than their competition. How? Follow these five ingredients:

1. Vision / Goal
A franchise owner and CEO (sometimes the same person) who have a clear goal/objective of being the best. These owners begin with a mission statement or purpose and then take time to make a strategic plan for the way to achieve this goal. Once the plan is complete, it is time for implementation.

2. Implementation
The first wise step in implementing the plan is to put together a solid human resource department, those who know the business and have expertise in the particular venue. A good human resource department will first seek top-level management, men and women with leadership experience and a subject matter expertise in their field.

3. Selecting Leadership
If evaluated appropriately, these selected individuals (general managers, field managers, coaches) will have had experience with obtaining the franchise’s ultimate goal…a championship. These leaders will have no problem identifying and sharing with the franchise vision, because they have experienced this winning edge in the past.  Since a business seeks to hire the best leadership personnel, it makes little sense to seek leaders who would have a difficult time sharing the franchise vision because of the fact that they had no experience with ever achieving the ultimate goal...ever. This mistake happens too often in the world of sports. The lack of quality leadership at the top becomes too predictable…sooner or later. Leadership who have the right experience and have already tasted the glory (Dave Dombrowski) are able to piece together the right personnel (Alex Cora) to combine for the winning ingredient to achieve the franchises goal.
 
4. The right personnel
Collecting the right personnel (David Price, Steve Pearce, J.D. Martinez, etc.) is carefully crafted by internal development (by more leadership with right credentials) and external availability (what the market has available outside the organization). This is where leadership skills come in…selecting the right personnel, both internally and externally to combine a mix who will come together as a team and perform as a cohesive unit to achieve the franchise’s goal. When good leadership can put together the right cohesive unit, the whole work atmosphere from top to bottom share with the franchise vision.

5. Reward
Another seemingly obvious piece of the puzzle (the elephant in the room) is salary. In order for a good owner/CEO who seriously wants to achieve the ultimate goal of winning everything, reaching the top, he/she has already realized that to obtain the best personnel for your team, you have to pay a good salary…what the quality individuals are worth (market value). Too often, poor quality personnel get paid too much and good quality personnel too little. This is another reason why having good management leadership at the top is a critical element.

Conclusion
The winning (champions) franchises in any sport have developed their business model with at least these five ingredients. There are many other intangibles involved as well, but if a franchise owner follows these five basic rules, they would have a better chance of being the Boston Red Sox or the Golden State Warriors. Clearly, the Baltimore Orioles should follow these guidelines for their future business model…please.

Scott Meehan has a Master’s Degree in Management Information Systems and a MBA in Business Administration. He is currently the Business Department Lead at City College in Altamonte Springs, Florida.

April, 2025 AD

I remember it all, vividly…a traumatic moment I shall never forget.
​
It was only two days until the end of Phase V. I was following the footsteps of my father, a Green Beret legend for his exploits in Afghanistan and Iraq.

I was good at avoiding capture by the opposing force, called the OPFOR. Of course, nothing is totally predictable, and, I never expected betrayal…by my own team. 
I should have known though…they were all part of a standing good ‘ole boy network…who dreaded the idea of a woman wearing the Green Beret.

Led into a dark abandon shack, a lantern flicked on. I saw that I was surrounded by no less than five men…none of whom looked very friendly, at all friendly…including the ones who were supposedly on my team, the ones who led me here on false pretense.
One of them grabbed me by the arm while another came at me with rope. With my free hand, a mistake on their part, I reared back and let the dude who held my wrist, have it just below his eye…I missed, because I was aiming for the full flesh of his nose.

This only angered him and with the help from a third guy, they both held my hands behind my back…pulling my arms together. That was only a little painful because I am quite flexible.

The guy with the rope approached me and said, “Time to teach you some manners, girly…”

I did not give him a chance to finish. With a grunt, I mustered my lower extremities with a full force of energy, and placed a well-aimed kicked, right where it counts. “How’s this for manners?” I yelled in the process.

“GAHH!” He screamed like a baby, and doubled over to the ground…clutching his groin. 
I was in survival mode…my adrenaline running in high gear. The punks behind me released their grip, either out of shock, fear, or both…or so I would have hoped. I went immediately into a basic shallow standing martial arts squat and waited. In hindsight, it would have been better if I had bolted for the door…but I hesitated…and it was a costly mistake.

I felt a sharp sting from a solid impact behind my right leg, just above the knee, that sent me crashing to the ground. 

“Aaaahhhh! GOD!” That really, really hurt. I turned quickly to see a buffoon standing over me with a baseball bat. Before I could react with my lightening quick speed, which was now hampered, another guy came out of nowhere and kicked me in the back…the momentum thrusting me forward into the guy with the bat. I must say, it was not pretty after that.

Both of these guys picked me up and tossed me against the back wall, away from the door. For the first time…in a long, long, time…I felt fear. Sweat poured down my cheeks.
I tried to jump up…I really did…but when I put weight on my right leg, I immediately dropped to the ground. It hurt that bad. 

I was now a “sitting duck.” The next thing I knew, my body was taking punches from every angle…there must have been four or five guys landing blows. 
At this point, I tried my best just to cover my head and face…while my arms, shoulders and back took the brunt force, at least initially. When I tried to protect my mid-section from savage kicking, I momentarily exposed my face, and like bees chasing a honey thief, they stung my exposed flesh.  

Everything began fading to black when I heard one of them yell, “That’s enough boys. I don’t think she’ll try kicking us again. Bill; Mike, tie her to the post.”
I was too weak to resist the dirt bags from dragging me across the floor and then tying my hands above my head to a wooden beam or pole. I will never forget the amount of pain I was in…and I remember trying my best not to groan, because to me it was a sign of weakness. 

There I was, hanging with my arms extending above my head when the leader walked up to me and rubbed his nose on my bloodstained cheek. I could barely see out of my left eye, which was nearly swollen shut. 

“Quite a kick you have there little darling. I betcha you can’t do it again.” He stepped back and nodded to someone behind me, which I quickly surmised was the one holding the baseball bat, because he swung his blasted instrument of pain again, striking my other leg. I will never like the game of baseball again “Aaaahhhh! Aaaahhh—JESUS!” I could not keep from yelling…as much as I wanted to stifle my screams. I panted for air like a thirsty deer running from a hunter. I wanted to remain defiant…a bad habit of mine. 

When I slurred, “You—yourr crazy!” through my gasping, blood squirted from my lip and shot a stream on the leader. 

The men snickered. The leader swiped his arm across his face and then reached around me to grab the back of my hair. Then he yanked hard, forcing me to look up at the wooden beams. 

“Oh really sweetie? We’re just getting started here.”

The others laughed like a pack of hyenas…going in for the kill. 
“Wha—whadoyou want?” I choked.

“Want? Why, you of course. Just you—the first woman who is about to receive the Green Beret. All of us here want a piece of you—especially the one still rolling on the ground. Oh, he’ll get up soon enough.”

“Yorr—eevil! Buh—but my God is stronger!”

“Well darling, where is he now, hum?”

“Yu—yull see.”

“Hear that boys? Her God is going to come get us,” he mocked.

I managed a weak smirk while trying my best to stare back through my good eye. 
“You see darlin’, in these high-stake games, we must make it as real as we can. Unfortunately, people sometimes do tend to get hurt. We want you to be fully prepared for the real world...of a true Green Beret.”

I closed my good eye…I could not stand the sight of him…plus, I wanted to pray that I could hold back the tears. 

But, it was too late…I felt a drop roll down my cheek and I remember thinking, I hope it is a blood drop…but it wasn’t.

“Aw, look guys. Our little warrior is crying. Boo hoo.”

There was more laughter from the others. I heard one of them say, “Ray, you sure ‘bout all this? I think maybe…”

“Shut up Jimmy!”

“They never said anything abo…”

“I said, shut up Jimmy, or we’ll do something to you too.”

Oh, good, a slight glimmer of hope…maybe, I thought.

“You’re in our neck of the woods now, ‘lil darlin.’ Have you ever heard the saying, “What goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas?” 

I forced my drooping head up a little and glared at my assailant with the best look of defiance I had left. Forcing a slight grin, I spit out…with blood, “Nah—not Vegas half twit moron.”

I know, not the brightest thing to say under the circumstances. The dark-eyed man grabbed me by the chin, moved inches from my face, and hissed, “You’re very right about that sweet thing. Like I said before, you are in our neck of the woods now.”

Instinctively, I tried to move my legs.

“Aaaahhhh, ma—ma legs! I think you broke them!”

“Such a pity, and so close to the end of selection too. Guys, remove her foot gear.” 

While someone was busily removing my boots and socks…not gently, I might add, the ringleader grabbed my belt that was holding up my trousers, pulled out a large Buck knife, and cut it off. Then in one swift motion, he yanked my trousers down…over my throbbing legs.

“AAHH! GAAH! Help me Jesus.” 

Then it happened…just when I thought bad would get worse, I suddenly saw a blinding light shine through the whole shack and for a brief moment, I envisioned entering the gates of heaven. Then I heard the boisterous and life-saving sound of helicopter rotor blades. The voice over the loudspeaker blared, “ALL CLEAR!”

The next thing I know, a bunch of soldiers burst into the shack. I barely saw them, but the first guy stopped and was pointing a .9mm pistol at the ringleader. “Get away from her, PUNK!” he snarled. 

The leader nodded and backed away from me. One of the men behind me, must have cut the rope because I dropped like a sack of potatoes with a thud. Somehow, I stayed conscious, but barely. I only heard voices now…wanting just to go to sleep.

“Just following orders, sir.”

Someone came over and covered me with a blanket or his shirt…or something. Thanks, I tried to say…but couldn’t speak. He checked my vital signs and I heard him say, “Captain, she’s in a bad way.”

The Captain yelled, “Help him out. Secure a clearing to land the bird… now!”

The soldier helping me stood up and I heard a commotion. Then I saw the ringleader fall beside me. He was bleeding profusely from his nose. Good, I thought.

Then I heard the Captain again. “I will pull this trigger if you take another step! Now drop that bat.”

I heard that horrible pain stick drop to the ground next to me.

One of the bad guys said, “You can report us if you want, Captain, but we were ordered to treat her under the pretense of what she'd receive if captured for real by an actual hostile.” 

“Well, you bastards succeeded.” The Captain then spewed out a flow of words that would peel the paint of a wall. 

The big soldier who rushed to my side cradled me in his arms, scooped me up, and rushed me to the awaiting chopper. 
​
That was the last thing I remembered before slipping into darkness.

During my twenty-five year career in the Army from 1980 to 2005, I deployed to the war zone in the Middle East on four different occasions. Each deployment presented its own unique mission challenges and the experiences that accompanied them. To learn more in specific detail, please go to: https://books.pronoun.com/stone-in-a-sling/ 
When I was on my first deployment in 1991 for Operation Desert Storm, I decided to memorize Psalm 91. One night as I was standing outside my tent near the Kuwait border in the desert of Saudi Arabia, I watched the orange glow over the horizon where our Air Force had been bombing the smithereens out of the Iraqi forces on the front lines. Then I remembered Psalm 91:9 & 10. “If you say, ‘The Lord is my refuge,’ and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent.”
 
Days later when truckloads of Iraq prisoners arrived at the Kibrit prisoner of war camp, my driver and I counted sixty per truckload with a line of sixty trucks, giving a fair estimate at 3600 enemy soldiers compared to a hundred or so Marines, Special ops. and National Guard MPs. The verse from Psalm 91:7 came to mind: “A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.”
 
Fifteen years later, I remembered Psalm 91 when preparing for bed one night while on an assignment in Baghdad. I heard the swishing sound of rockets fly overhead followed by thunderous explosions approximately two miles away. I prayed, “Lord, cover me with your feathers and under your wings may I find refuge. May your faithfulness be my shield and rampart. I do not need to fear the terror of the night nor the arrow that flies by day” (Psalm 91:4 & 5).

​

Hello everyone ~ Asha here. This week has been crazy bad. I know I’m a day late but never a dollar short. Go figure. The author of my character, Major Scott, had a myocardial infarction—or putting it in plain language, a heart attack. Yikes! Fortunately, after four days in the hospital with great care, medications, and lots of prayer, from many of you, he is back home and doing better. He’ll have to take it easy, make some lifestyle changes, and eventually go through cardio rehab but his spirits are still high and he is still faithful. ​   

He still wanted me to Blog, probably because I’m his favorite character—hee hee, ha ha, so here I am. School is going well and the family is well.
 
Now for the big news event. At the end of this month, September 28th through October 1st, Orlando will be hosting the annual Indie Author BookFest 2017. The four-day event will be held at The Westin Lake Mary, Orlando North on 2974 International Parkway. This is in Lake Mary, FL 32746.
 
This Indie BookFest is an annual author-reader event focuses both on author continuing education and on reader interaction. IBF17 will include a full day of workshops and panels aimed at authors of all experience levels, FanFare, an evening occasion where readers and authors meet in a relaxed environment, a keynote speech, reader-focused panels, a three-hour long signing open to the public and a Saturday night party.
 
Major Scott will be there with his five published books and details on contests involving me. I will not be there in person but will be on a cool poster instead…hee ha. If ya’ll can, come by and see the displays of more than eighty authors and their published books. For more information, please visit: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/indie-bookfest-2017-tickets-29546857446?aff=es2
 
Well, before I go, please pray for Major Scott and all the people in Texas and Louisiana affected by Hurricane Harvey. Lord, give strength and wisdom to all those who help and those who need help this day. Amen.
 
Bah,
Asha

​

​Hey everyone! Asha here. I’ve been extremely busy since school started again. I’m a sophomore, can you believe it? My parents can’t. They keep telling me to stop growing up so fast. Hee hee, ha ha.The Major wanted me to tell ya’ll that he is still giving away books. You don’t even have to say, “I dig Asha.” Just indicate your interest. He will give away three books of your choice for the next three readers to respond to my Blog.
So, my Blog today. Um, I want to share a poem with you. I’m in Lit. class and had to do one—so why not share it? Here goes:

     I’ll help others see the light
     By doing what is right
     I’ll be strong and courageous; won’t hide
     There is a greater power on our side
     No need to be rattled
     God will fight our battles
     Refrain from war when throwing the dice
     Prepare for war with wise advice
    The most high is my rock and fortress
    My God in whom I trust
    My heart has heard you say,
    Come and talk with me
    And my heart responds
    Lord, I am coming
    The Kingdom of God is not just talk
    It is living by God’s power and my daily walk

I hope you liked it. Until next week ~

Bah,
Asha