Ricky Barnes

On boys, baseball, freedom and a few foul balls

On boys, baseball, freedom and a few foul balls

Two years ago, my wife and I were in Monte Carlo admiring a flotilla of $50 million yachts and watching Bugattis and Ferraris zoom by while sipping $20 Hendricks and tonics. I thought life couldn’t get much cooler.

Two days later, I was driving through Pennsylvania to pick up my middle son from sleep-away camp. On the way, I stopped with my other son to see the Reading Fightin’ Phils (the Philadelphia Phillies AA club). Pre-game, I sat in the courtyard of the stadium, watched a local band play 1970s rock-n-roll dressed up like C-list cartoon characters, and sipped a $3 Pabst Blue Ribbon. I realized then that I was wrong about Monte Carlo; this minor league baseball...

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