When i was five i was king of the yard, and my grandfather said I had one hell of an arm. i remember learning his split-finger Fastball, and all the tales he would stretch with that famous Turner charm. and by the fire pit in my old backyard, i used to Sit transfixed by his stories. about the time him and mickey Mantle drank all night long, spinning yarns of all their former glories. And i remember christmas eve when i was ten and ma told grandpa He was wasting my time. she sent him packing in the pouring Rain; things were never quite the same after that night. but in The package he left under the tree was a new silver wristwatch Addressed to his favorite grandson, henry.
