What Would No. 62 Be Worth to You?
Rick Reilly
September 07, 1998
Your mouth is bloody. A couple of your fingers are bent in three directions. Your watch is gone. But you came out with it.
The two tiny figures start to wrestle.
You think hard. Suddenly you snatch them up and zip them into your waist pouch. You unlock the Winnebago door and walk out, flipping the ball to the man with the kielbasa as the crowd gasps. From your waist pouch, you can hear the muffled Cobb and Ruth yelling, "What'd you do that for?"
A very large smile is on your face.
"Screw the ball," you say. "Do you have any clue how much I'm gonna make with you two?"