One day there were two out in the ninth, and I hit a pop fly so high that the fans got tired of waiting for it to come down. So they all went home and listened to it drop by turning on the radio.
I lost the good stuff on my fastball. I had to come up with something to keep me in the league. The knuckler rescued me then.
I studied one term of law and then came to realize I had a little better fastball and curve than I did a vocabulary.
When I walked out on the mound, I felt enclosed. You see, I'd been used to playing on pastures, where when somebody hit a ball you had to stop it from rolling. Well, this field had fences around it.
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