"I know," Noah said. "That's why it counts."
Spring returned with mud and possibility. Cameron's letters — sometimes texts, sometimes actual paper — arrived with tips and jokes and once a photograph of a sunrise over a Florida practice field that looked, to Noah, like proof that the world still contained mornings meant for work. When the home stands resumed, the bullpen sessions resumed with them. Frank Callahan's commentary grew fractionally warmer, which was to say it remained mostly frost with occasional thaw.
"You're dropping your back shoulder on offspeed," Frank said one May evening.
"I know," Noah said.
"Then stop knowing and start fixing."
Cameron, stretching nearby, winked at Noah. "That's Frank for I believe in you."
"I heard that," Frank said without turning around.