is a Brooklyn boy. He grew up next to Prospect Park, around the same time that my dad owned Manny’s Pizza on 5th Avenue and 5th Street in Park Slope. I remember that Prospect was alive with kids playing baseball during the summer. Some were like me, relegated to the bench during pickup games because, well, I couldn’t field a ball for the life of me. (Writing has been literally the only way I’ve come close to this game.) I just imagine that while I struggled on some afternoon to swing a bat like a human being, Ottavino was out there conjuring wicked spells on the mound after the Sorting Hat put him in Hufflepuff.
Adam Ottavino
