I always had dreams.
It's May 1956 at Ebbets Field, a bandbox of a baseball stadium, home of the Brooklyn Dodgers. My all-time hero, Gil Hodges, stands at first base. We'd snuck down to the first baseline box seats from our perch in the bleachers. In the blink of an eye, I'm standing next to Gil and talking with him. We're teammates. A 14-year-old boy's fantasy.
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