It is the happy ending chidren’s stories are made of. The undersized Jose Altuve, the little engine who could, who had been told he was too small his entire life, stepping to the plate in a tie game, bottom of the ninth, a runner on, and the pennant on the line. 5 feet 5 inchs of determination stood 60 feet 6 inches away from Aroldis Chapman, the hardest throwing, most fearsome closer, playing for the New York Yankees, the Evil Empire.
I think I can.
I think I can.
I think I can.