One of the beauties of cellphone technology is caller ID. When my phone trilled that afternoon in late December I saw the name of my friend and neighbor pop up on the screen. David Roth rarely called.
"Hello?"
We exchanged genial insults, as men will do. Then he got to the point.
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"I'm going to be the head coach of the school baseball team this year," he said. "I need an assistant."
He had me cornered, and we both knew it. My older son had played on the team last year and surely planned to try out again. This year, his kid brother was eligible to try out, too. Smart money said they'd make the squad. With two Davis boys on the team, why not rope in their old man, too?
"Well, uh —"
"What? It'll be fun!"
"I, well, I don't know, David, uh —"
"Dude. It's baseball."
Baseball.
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