You get scared some times.

Sure you do.

Sure when the lights go out and you are dreaming about your past—fuck it, your prime—sure you get scared that it is all over. But there is always prime rib and yorkshire pudding and your Dad still loves you, even if he thought you were queer for growing long hair and signing with Anaheim.

In those days you ate steak even if you weren't hungry, and fastballs.

"I could turn God's fastball around", you heard that pug Howard Johnson say. But you knew he couldn't.

You eat mostly chicken now. And you buy it in bulk, and sometimes at the dinner table you line up all your old cards, the ones with you in your year, that year, and you chew up your food, and you drink your RC Cola and you wish more than anything—sometimes you even close your eyes and damn you can see it— that both Howard Johnson and Ray Knight were here; so you could feel like part of the gang again; and tell them what you thought.

One fucking time.

For good.

* * * * *

Day 2 | Kelly Home | Day 4