The only books sold in town are textbooks at the community college and book orders through the elementary school—it's one of the 4,724 reasons I need to leave Athens.
We stand as the teams are announced. When Hamilton's name is called, he hops from the dugout onto the field. The crowd roars a welcome for their new pitcher. He turns to wave at his new fans, a wide smile upon his face. He's the luckiest man alive—he gets paid to play the game he loves. He winks our way before turning his back and assuming his place near the mound.
Goosebumps cover my entire body during the National Anthem. I squeeze Memphis' hand—she pulls me into a side-hug. My nerves ratchet higher as He takes his warm-up pitches upon the mound. He looks like the same man that took the mound in Athens less than a week
