I wrote a new humor piece for Bygone Bureau, that’s kind of sort of about baseball:
“I can still remember the details of the first game I ever attended: The gentle whisper of fans marking scorecards. The organ, diddling the joyful rhythm of life. The milky-soft hands of the pitcher. Uncle Sam in full regalia, tipping his hat and pointing at a cancer-stricken child seated in the upper decks, a granite promise to shoot a home run in his direction. The vacuum thunk of a hot dog shot from a potato cannon by the Philly Phanatic, as a hungry child, stricken with terminal cancer, really a completely hopeless case, returns a thumbs-up.”
Read more here!