I confess I tire of baseball sometimes. The other day I nearly missed the first pitch because I was wrapped up in a French lesson. To be fair, it’s challenging to waste time on Facebook when it’s all in l’Francais,…
Category: Minors
I picked up my very own press pass and, having forgotten a lanyard, bought one for ten bucks at the team store. So much for objectivity. But the only person I know from Midland, TX, is a former president, and…
I can look him up. He’s already given me his number. It’s on his jersey. I didn’t notice his expression until after I clicked through my camera to get rid of shots filled with clouds and foul poles, jersey buttons…
A child stood on the Springfield dugout, scanning the stands for a man dressed in a red and white striped shirt and stocking cap, though the temperature hovered in the 80s. The crowd pointed and shouted, trying to help the…
I asked for a press pass for this site, and I got it. (During the recent college season I represented the university.) When the Bears played at Hammons Field I sat where I wished. The local Cardinals affiliate, a Double-A…
He was out. by
He crossed his arms, resting his head against the windowpane. Somewhere near Toledo he opened up, pins pricking his wrists as if someone carried a grudge against him. He worked with his hands, carrying swaths of leather sewn together into…
After a single, he stood on first base. His friend grinned at him. They stood near a bag, making dinner plans after spending 9 months of 2011 together. Digesting Waffle House burgers while sitting on buses from Toledo to Louisville,…