Duncan stood in the circle, lazily swinging his 36" Louisville.

"All right now, Tommy-babee. Get on now Tommy-babee...."

Tom stroked the pitch over the third baseman's glove.

The pitcher cradled the ball on his humongous belly as Duncan approached the plate.

Duncan fantasized rounding the bases and later celebrating with an ice cold Zima.

The pitch...

Looked like a grapefruit.

Out of the corner of his eye.

Alexandria + Sun Dress

= Lazy Pop Fly.

Admittedly, he would need to spend more time on the farm.

                               

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