Why so much writing on such a thing?
Because it means something.
I love baseball. My brother loved baseball. The neighborhood kids always loved baseball. Growing up backyard fun was simply about blasting a ball as far out of the backyard as we could. Of course--it was a tennis ball and a tiny aluminum bat. But it was the beginning of hopes for all of us to go on and someday play a sport on a real ball field--one with the sweet scent of dirt and rubber, one where the grass is cut to just the right height, and one where for three hours life exists between two white lines.
This is America's past-time, and as I have written in the past, I am tired of athletes tainting the game.
I love this game.
Here is the latest article......try to ignore the senior year of high school picture.
I totally think the high school picture makes the article better!!!
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