"Well, maybe we can play more this week. It might grow on you."
My reply is cut off when the cab stops again. This time we're in front of the large sign for AT&T Park, the Giants baseball stadium. Tall brick columns flank the opening for the Willie Mays Gate, the name written on the sign above the entrance, and palm trees grow out front.
I get out of the cab and am busy enjoying the view when my brother rushes to my side and throws me into a big Ben hug.
"Ben!" I squeal as he swings me from side to side.
"What are you, a tourist? Standing there gaping at the buildings. You've seen a baseball stadium before."
I don't explain to him that the first time I saw this particular stadium was the night Finn and I peeked through the fence and watched a few minutes of the game. My visits to Ben'
