The Home Run King Only Swings for Me
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Summary
In this baseball-obsessed city, Leo Adams was the home run king who never missed.
Every time he stepped up to bat, he'd start with the same gesture. Two fingers tapping his right wrist, then a steady point in my direction.
The whole city spent two months trying to figure out who it was meant for. No one ever did.
No one knew it was meant for me, a team doctor still on probation.
And no one knew about the stream of comments only I could see, always drifting across my vision and calling the outcome of the next swing before anyone else.
