“You’re not listening anymore.” She teased.“Uh, Sure I was.” I lied. She gave me one of those ‘I know better.’ Looks. “OK, I wasn’t....I was wondering why you’d never go out with me. We had a pretty good time, here, no?”“Well, yes.” She replied.“So why wouldn’t you go out with me, of all the times I’ve asked.”Her answer almost knocked me off my chair. “I don’t think you’re man enough for what I like.” She smiled so sweetly while crushing my ego. I was virtually speechless.“Wha, what?” I. It still didn't feel like fear. I didn't feel like I was bailing out on the pitches, or flinching. But something was different, and, whatever it was, Sandy seemed to be the only antidote. When she was nearby, when I could think about her, back there behind me in the stands, the fear -- if that's what it was -- didn't take hold of me.Superstition? Was that all it was? Maybe. But I had never been superstitious. I'd never cared about mystical stuff; it had always seemed like bullshit to me. I. More

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