On Friday night in Sin Louis, I was standing down near the wall with my kids while my daughter penned likenesses of the ballpark and players and my son tried to get an autograph. Another boy a few yards down called out to David Ross as the catcher made his way to the cage, but Ross was unable to sign.
“Can’t do it right now,” he said, “But I’ll probably be out later. Gotta head to the batting cage.” Then, to the rest of us, he admitted, “Nah, I won’t be back out here. Shh, don’t tell him.