The game was tied seven to seven, bases full, with an eight to seven score resting heavily on Matthew’s shoulders. Matthew picked up the bat, but the bat slipped away and flew to the nearest cave.

Having shamed the team, Matthew ran home to his mother, bewildered to why she was standing on it, with cleats even. Had she joined the team?

She rang the dinner bell though made no promises of actual dinner because kitchens were no place for a recreational field. Crumbled biscuit and pocket lint was the best she could do.

They eventually went back to their dugouts for a nap. The rest was only a dream.