You are born a summer child, the sun in your eyes. You grow up with a tall yellow bat in your hands, chasing wiffle balls into corn fields while the cicadas scream. The local nine play 40 miles from your town in a concrete monument to baseball, and they quickly become your idols.
As you get older, you surpass them in skill and start a ball playing career of your own on the other side of the country. And as you climb to the top of the sport, the rumor becomes that, with the years rapidly passing, you want nothing more than to come home and play for the local nine you grew up watching.