“That was the afternoon we had, clear and sparkling, breezes heightening the air’s crispness. Perfect for baseball. I felt like I was thirteen again. We pushed through the crowd. Before us lay the field, a green mat surrounded by swirling color and sound.
Harry stopped and grouped us. His eyes met mine, moved briefly to those of the others. ‘We know what these fellows are,’ he said, his words barely audible. ‘let’s show them our ginger today.’ Head high, he turned toward the field. We marched in single rank, eleven abreast, in rough step. Andy was on my left, Hurley my right.