Moe Berg knew how to get into places he - or anyone else - was not supposed to be.  The time he had orders.  How he managed to get into the League control room he would never reveal, even to the Commissioner who sent him there.  Using only a flashlight, he found a large desk with a phone in the middle.  Immediately next to the desk was a series of switches with labels partially obscured by dust.  Above one column of these labels a small sign with it's own light glowed:  "1927."  Certain that he'd found what he was looking for, he picked up the phone.


In the Commissioner's office, a phone that no one - not even Joan - other than the Commissioner himself had ever used began to ring.  He grabbed it before the second ring.

"Berg?"

"Yes, it's me, I'm in."

"Good.  Do you see the column for 1927?"

"Looking right at it."

"Ok.  Below that are a series of switches with dials next to them.  Find the group of switches labeled 'playing time limits' and tell me what you see."

"There's a lot of dust here, so this will take a minute.  Ok, the first switch says "activate playing time limits" and it's on.  What does that mean, anyway?"

"I'm not paying you to ask questions.  What's the next one?"

"You're the boss.  Next there's one that says "total plate appearances, and it's on as well."

"Good so far - what is the dial setting?"

"That dial is set at 160%."

"That's right. What's next?"

"There's a lot of grime on this one.  Ok, I can read it now.  It says "plate appearance splits" and it's on."

"WHAT????  That one shouldn't be on for many years!"

"Sir?"

A long silence.  What Berg couldn't see, but sensed by the sound of the breathing on the line, was that the Commissioner was struggling to compose himself.

After what seemed an eternity of only labored breathing, Berg finally heard the Commissioner say "Moe, I need you to turn that one off."

"Ok, but what is going to happen?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but it's our only chance to prevent this league going back to the dead-ball era, or worse."

"I wish I knew what you were talking about, sir."

"You don't need to know, Berg.  Just do it."

Click.  "Done.  Oh, and sir?  There's another board that's lit in here.  It says '1981.'  Do I need to do anything with that?"

"Berg, leave that one alone.  Don't even look at it.  And Moe, none of this ever happened.  Understand?"

"Understood."

The line went dead in Moe Berg's hand.