How wonderful it was to find this essay from my nephew, Brady Cremeens, in my mailbox first thing this morning.
It’s marveling at a once head-bound slider snapping down for a strike as the batter bails out of the way.
It’s the whip-like crack of a wooden Louisville connecting with a 98 mph fastball.
It’s listening to your favorite broadcasters on a radio station that barely comes in.
Read the full article on Life, Death, and Feeny: The Optimism of Opening Day.
Play ball!
