...I don't care if I never get back

If the batting cages at the Louisville Slugger whetted the appetite of the orphan boys for baseball, then a trip to Great American Ballpark sealed the deal. The game of baseball is a difficult game to explain; throw in a language barrier and it is darn near impossible. Instead of trying to come up with the Chinese equivalent of "stirke" or "run", I just taught them the English words. Every time the crowd would cheer they would ask me why another point was not added. I explained to them that the runner had to touch the fourth white place in order for the team to get another point. The Redlegs were lousy that night, they only touched the fourth white place 2 times.

There was so much more I wanted to tell the boys about the game - about curve balls and stealing signs, the Hall of Fame and the infield fly rule - but it was sufficient that evening to simply teach them about home runs and the 7th inning stretch. It was enough. Enough for the boys to want to come to another game, and enough for the boys to ask us to bring a bat to the orphanage when we got back, to go with our 5 gloves and 4 baseballs.