We were a tiny redoubt of culture holding our own against the neighboring Huns of organized sports. I pretended to join the group disdain, but I knew in my heart it was already too late. After the two innings I had watched before leaving the house, baseball had reclaimed me.... Forty years is a long time to hold your breath, but I was back.

"Forty Years" Slow Trains Vol.7, Issue 3 (2008) - 2000-09