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Top of the seventh, 14 to 2. Evening sunlight slants below an arch of cloud, turning the field to emerald and copper. A hit drops behind second – the runner stumbles as he glances at a fan dancing on the dugout, a diamond flashing from her smooth midriff.
The Vipers’ mascot, a snake who looks like he’s swallowed a beachball, jives in the aisle, his paunch swaying to “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” I wash down the last bite of hot dog with beer, the salt-malt combo taking me back to games savoured with long-ago lovers of baseball, and of me. Today we sit through the old chorus, a quartet of women watching our bodies change.
seventh-inning stretch …