I COULDN"T HAVE been happier to have found Fritz. But being together with my friend was little different than living with a stranger. I went to school each day, to his classroom, teaching his subject, and running his activities. My tenth graders had worked hard to get the history baseball tournament in motion, but by the start of spring training couldn"t generate enough interest among the students, even with Rachel and Nicole using their unique style of pressure. Teachers had no interest in being involved, and the kids had not convinced local businesses to become sponsors. At the start of February, Susan Leslie, with tears of frustration, told me they were giving up. I told her what people said for years about the old Brooklyn Dodgers—“Wait "til next year.” In another moment, in a differen
