“Thank you sir, but I should really get going, I need to get home.” I say, the old geezer is starting to annoy me. “Oh yes of course but first l...t me give you something.” He says, the man picks up his briefcase opens it and pulls out a simple black book. “Here, son just write whatever you desire in it, perhaps it will come through.” He says before pushing me out of the way and walking away. I open the book and see it’s empty, weird old fuck but at least he’s out of my way. I walk on until I. She knew I loved running. She was my biggest fan, one of the many reasons I loved her so.The route wasn't too bad, flat for the first three miles, then a medium-sized uphill, and then flat after the downhill. I was chugging along at my usual pace when my phone rang. I usually listen to music as I run so when the phone announced it was my sister calling to wish me a happy birthday I picked it up, talking to her as I ran.I got a few stares and laughs as people passed me, telling them it was my. He knew he could've helped them to play better; he knew his batting average spoke for itself, yet they'd decided against using him. Instead, he was a glorified bench warmer. Picking up his glove and hat, both of which he'd tossed on the ground at his feet after the game, he rose to his feet and made his way to the locker room. He didn't know what he could do to convince the Tigers' manager to let him play.Suzanne Mahoney watched as her all-time favorite minor league player slowly rose to his. . you're Banner!" the man stammered, obviously knocked off balance for whatever his intended mission was."That's right," Cal answered. "How can I help you?"Taking a breath and straightening up, the man said "I'm Harlan Clancy and this is my wife Marge." Yes?" Cal's questioning reply set the man back. He had obviously expected the name to mean something."We're Pat's parents," Harlan explained.Cal just stood motionless and expressionless for a long moment. "Oh, we didn't know his last name," he.