“What is This, Velvet?

“He was high as a kite, I tell ya. But the man was magical. Surgical — wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it.”

“How’d he get by the club doc?” the third base coach, turned head man for the Danville Tilers, now dressed in an immaculate white uniform, with red accents, stood at home plate, running infield grounding warm-ups.

“Hal, I’ll tell ya — I still don’t know ‘til this day. And he pitched a marvel. An absolute gem.” Gerald Weaver had seen just about all you could see on the diamond, at all of the levels that existed. Fifteen years wasn’t that big of an age gap; but in some ways, fifteen years could seem like forty. Gerald hired Hal after his twelve-year run in the Bigs, but they forged a friendship, years earlier. Hal had married Gerald’s daughter at the peak of both of their respective careers — Gerald won his second World Series, and Hal, for all of his heroics, won the most outstanding player in that series, even in a loss — and capped off another MVP season the following year, with another most outstanding player nod, and the trophy.

Gerald had been around the game with names like Mays and Bonds and Aaron and Morgan and Henderson. Hal had that it. And when Gerald’s daughter bought Hal home, he was not only surprised — but admitted that he thought about telling Wink Anderson, Gerald’s ace of the staff, to hit Hal — hard. The men bonded over a few brews and…