Facts no longer speak for themselves
I don't have a child. Might someday, though, and one of the scenes I've watercolored in my head is his or her first day at the ballpark. We'll watch someone smack a ball way over a fence, and when the commotion subsides, a little voice beneath a cap several sizes too big will ask me, "Daddy, who hit the most home runs ever?"
It's a question dads dream of hearing from their children, one they once asked of their own fathers, one that connects generations like DNA. But I no longer fantasize ...
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