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  • Genetic disposition toward baseball showed up late for me but presented mightily. Me at more than 40 and here comes a kind of first love. He had the perfect loudspeaker name. A thrill to hear or see him. 6 feet of shy boy. Then a no hitter. More than a few 100 mph balls. All star starter. I bought a shirt with his name on it. Which is probably what precipitated his relative collapse. Then came the trade—for five or six other guys—think about what that could mean. I didn’t cry, exactly. But so much relationship, with only one person knowing. He still lives with his mother. She cooks for him in the new city. He’s not pitching well there either. And I’m left wondering how it is possible to know so much about another person’s, a stranger’s, arm.
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