No, Geoffrey has sickle-cell anemia, and nobody knows how he will do. He has gone eight straight months without a crisis, and he may never have another one, although he is still frail, and it's hard for him to gain weight. Tiny as he is, though, when the Big Hurt comes to bat, Geoffrey closes his eyes slightly, holds his right arm straight out toward the television set, opens his hand wide and sends his uncle all his strength.
Frank and his wife, Elise, have their own kids now. Sterling is two and has his father's baby face, and now their daughter, Sloan, is coming up on six months. Sterling is allowed to roam through the clubhouse at will, and when he comes through those doors after a game and runs to his father's locker, his dad gets down low, opens up those huge arms and lets Sterling dive into them, and they wrestle around on the ground awhile. Ever the plaything. Then the Big Hurt sets him up on his massive lap and makes Sterling tell him all about his day, while reporters happily stand and wait.
Maybe the strike will take away one of the finest seasons a hitter has ever had. Maybe Thomas won't win the Triple Crown. Maybe he won't even win a single leg of it. But he will definitely lead the majors in walks. There is no question about that, and that will somehow be just fine. For if there is one thing baseball and two-year-olds have taught him, it's that little things mean a lot. And you never take an easy walk for granted.