Backyard Fantasy

Game seven, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded. The score is tied. I step up to the plate. That reflector on my bicycle is a blazing Fenway floodlight. Mr. Thompson's fence is the "Green Monster." That rosebush is my wife is in the crowd. We've been growing more distant recently. Being a hero would go so far in terms of repairing our relationship. Imagine if I hit a home run right now. My wife will be driving the carpool and all the other second graders will be talking about how Sean's dad won the World Series and she wont be able to help but be a little proud. Just a little bit. I cock the bat.

JGH '07-'08