Don't you guys love it. When hot lazy days under the shade calls for boys of summer to take the field that familiar sound of Rawling in the air. Snap of the leather, crack of the bat it take you back to a place and time only you remember. Maybe in Birmingham, Tulsa, Albuquerque or somewhere where there's a field and young men with dreams of MLB. I will be watching, following and wishing you well.
Catch me on the flip side.
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