He looked over at his new teammate, admiring the kid’s moves. The way he effortlessly scooped the ball off the infield dirt and casually flicked it over to the first baseman. A thing of beauty.
This rookie, he clearly had talent. But if today’s hostile crowd was any indication, he’d never survive in the league without some help.
So, the shortstop walked across the grass. He ignored the shouting, the cursing, the racist slurs from the Crosley Field fans.
What was he going to do once he got there? No idea.
He just knew he wanted to help a friend.
The Weekday One Hundred 