Saturday, August 30, 2014

Baseball Means Nothing To Me


“It was 1986. It was a night just like this one, a stiff wind sweeping out the stale summer haze and it felt like the world was on your side for once. I was fresh off the farm, didn't have a clue. A child lost in the city. She was sitting right up there. No, not there, look at where I'm pointing, there. I could feel her eyes on me all the way in the outfield. Huge dark eyes, black as pitch. She was waiting for me after the game. I followed her to her car. She opened the trunk. She opened a case. She sold me my first pair of shoes. Real shoes, ones real women wear. These shoes. Stop looking at the stands, look at these shoes. There you go. Pretty nice, huh? Okay, back to the game. We should probably concentrate on winning, that seems important.”

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