Treated like a king, then smacked into the heavens: Considering the American baseball

PITTSBURGH (AP) — I’m no pitcher. But the first time I made my father flinch with my fastball, I felt as if I had grown up that day. My hand was finally big enough to affect the ball’s trajectory and make his sting. It was 1978. I was 10. “I don’t know how much longer I can catch these,” said my al...

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