To him it sounded like an oncoming army – a thousand, no, ten thousand horsemen charging across a plain toward some hapless opposing force. Tall men...with sun-bronzed skin wearing layers of thick armor with chain mail showing underneath in places, riding atop wild eyed war horses – destriers he remembered they were called – with flecks of foam flying from their mouths as they charged headlong at a breakneck pace into the embrace of either certain death or a bloody victory. The tin roof also had. And my ERA was going to move down a tad.Amy was cheerfully perched in her first-row seat next to Paul Warren's end of the dugout, and he actually exchanged a few words with her, twice, late in the game, when I was already out of it and sitting on the dugout bench. I wanted to walk down and say hello to Amy, but it would have meant standing in front of the Manager, Paul Warren, and I figured he wouldn't appreciate it that much.Anyway, ol' Ame was going to be going home with me!After the game, we. More

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