A clear, starlit night in North Carolina drew a good crowd, and for the fans who attended the game, it was well worth the modest price of admission.
By the end of the second inning Tommy had six strikeouts; by the end of the third, Asheville still didn’t have a baserunner; and by the fourth inning they were checking the pitcher’s glove for foreign substances.
“He’s got to be using something,” yelled out the Tourists manager, Bud Giles. “A baseball doesn’t move that way.”
Giles kept riding the home plate umpire until the ump went out to check the glove. Nothing. Then the ump inspected Tommy’s hands and uniform for a gel, emery board, or hidden instrument used to scuff up the ball and make it fly like a UFO.
Still nothing. The ump jogged back to home plate, shaking his head at Giles. “He
