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Chapter 3

After dinner and lots of general talk and laughter, everybody went their separate ways, but I asked Tommy if I could buy him a beer.

“I think you have the most beautiful swing I’ve seen since Will Clark,” I blurted, which made him blush.

He agreed to the beer.

I’d like to say we hit the sack that night, but in baseball, a man must be discreet, plus I couldn’t count on him taking my looks as confirmation he went my way. What I had to do, besides jerking off to his image night and morning, was get to know him. This took nearly the whole season.

Over those beers that first night, we shared how and where we came to baseball. I learned he grew up in Seattle, loved the place, and played ball almost from day one.

“At two, my dad had me swinging at a Wiffle ball he pitched from like two feet away. After that, the usual—t-ball, Little League, high school. When I got drafted at eighteen, I blew off college.”