The Best Seats in the House

I always associate baseball with my father. I know that’s like the beginning to a bad college essay, or the opening voiceover monologue to a baseball movie released in the 80 or early 90s, but it’s true. And while my story doesn’t feature a slow craning shot from the horizon at sunset down to a rural baseball diamond with the lights just turning on, framed by walls of corn; my story does feature a stadium. This stadium.

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