Read Online My Most Excellent Year by Steve Kluger - Free Book Online
Authors: Steve Kluger
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not unfair anymore. Buck Weaver deserves to be un-banned.
Please click on the “Sign Petition” button. When we hit 20,000 names, we’ll send them to the Commissioner of Baseball and make him do something about it.
Thank you.
T.C. Keller
T.C.:
I’m with you, dude. Weaver got screwed.
Dear Mr. Keller,
I’m 16 and I don’t know anything about baseball, but my brother made me watch
Eight Men Out.
John Cusack was so cute as Buck Weaver that I’m signing your petition anyway.
Hey Freak.
How did you ever get 18,731 people to sign your stupid petition? Buck Weaver was a jerk. Those guys were a disgrace. They should’ve run the whole team out of town on a rail. Go Reds!
Dear T.C.:
I’m a features editor at
SportsAmerica
magazine, and I’d like to find out whether your father would allow us to interview you for one of our upcoming issues. For eighty-two years, popular opinion has held that Buck Weaver was handed a raw deal, but this is the first grassroots movement that actually appears to be growing.
Please contact me at your convenience.
Colleen Wilson
SportsAmerica
Dear Mama,
(One of our vocabulary words this week really gave me a hard time, so I’m supposed to practice using it in a sentence. See if you can guess which one it is.)
Whenever something really kick-ass happens to me that I didn’t expect, Pop always says “There’s your mom pulling strings for you again,” so I figure you already know about the lady from
SportsAmerica
since it was probably your idea. She called last night to ask me Buck Weaver questions, and Pop got on the other phone to fill in anything I might forget. I quoted Buck’s stats in the World Series that proved he wasn’t playing crooked and why he deserved civil rights, and Pop mentioned the bedtime stories you made up for me about Rosa Parks and Dr. King. By then I was pretty sure we could trust her with our secret plan to organize a protest rally in front of the Hall of Fame, but Pop interrupted me before I could finish. (After we hung up, he explained what “off the record” means.) So when you see Buck Weaver, please let him know that he’s making news again.
On
the record. Because if we can’t get him put back into baseball, at least a lot of people are going to want to know why, which is just as valuable. You once said that a friend is somebody who believes in you no matter what, and Buck is going to find out that he has a lot of friends. Even if that’s all he gets out of it.
Mrs. Norwood gave us our first project assignments of the year. She wants us to build a model of our favorite monument in Washington. I couldn’t decide between the Capitol, the Lincoln Memorial, or the White House, so Pop said we’d make a scale diorama of the whole L’Enfant Plan—which is the Mall and the Ellipse together, with all of the federal buildings around them and the Washington Monument inthe middle. The Hobby Shop on Thayer Street has white plastic replicas of all the marble landmarks, but we’re going to have to make the weird ones like the National Archives and the Smithsonian out of balsa wood. All of the buildings are going to light up in different colors and there’ll even be real water in the reflecting pool and real Astroturf on the Mall. Lori told Pop that it can’t be as high as the planetarium was, but she never said anything about how wide—so we’re thinking five feet by fifteen feet. Pop says it’s a shame we have to end it at the Potomac River because he promised her the Iwo Jima statue too, and that’s in Arlington. I’m glad he’s checking with her first this time. She acted kind of funny about the eight-foot map of Massachusetts.
But there’s definitely something spurious going on here that I’m not supposed to be able to figure out. Back in the old days (like last month), it would have gone right over my head—but ever since Cupid shot me in the butt, nothing gets by me anymore. This morning in the middle of our jog, me and Pop were sitting
Please click on the “Sign Petition” button. When we hit 20,000 names, we’ll send them to the Commissioner of Baseball and make him do something about it.
Thank you.
T.C. Keller
T.C.:
I’m with you, dude. Weaver got screwed.
Dear Mr. Keller,
I’m 16 and I don’t know anything about baseball, but my brother made me watch
Eight Men Out.
John Cusack was so cute as Buck Weaver that I’m signing your petition anyway.
Hey Freak.
How did you ever get 18,731 people to sign your stupid petition? Buck Weaver was a jerk. Those guys were a disgrace. They should’ve run the whole team out of town on a rail. Go Reds!
Dear T.C.:
I’m a features editor at
SportsAmerica
magazine, and I’d like to find out whether your father would allow us to interview you for one of our upcoming issues. For eighty-two years, popular opinion has held that Buck Weaver was handed a raw deal, but this is the first grassroots movement that actually appears to be growing.
Please contact me at your convenience.
Colleen Wilson
SportsAmerica
Dear Mama,
(One of our vocabulary words this week really gave me a hard time, so I’m supposed to practice using it in a sentence. See if you can guess which one it is.)
Whenever something really kick-ass happens to me that I didn’t expect, Pop always says “There’s your mom pulling strings for you again,” so I figure you already know about the lady from
SportsAmerica
since it was probably your idea. She called last night to ask me Buck Weaver questions, and Pop got on the other phone to fill in anything I might forget. I quoted Buck’s stats in the World Series that proved he wasn’t playing crooked and why he deserved civil rights, and Pop mentioned the bedtime stories you made up for me about Rosa Parks and Dr. King. By then I was pretty sure we could trust her with our secret plan to organize a protest rally in front of the Hall of Fame, but Pop interrupted me before I could finish. (After we hung up, he explained what “off the record” means.) So when you see Buck Weaver, please let him know that he’s making news again.
On
the record. Because if we can’t get him put back into baseball, at least a lot of people are going to want to know why, which is just as valuable. You once said that a friend is somebody who believes in you no matter what, and Buck is going to find out that he has a lot of friends. Even if that’s all he gets out of it.
Mrs. Norwood gave us our first project assignments of the year. She wants us to build a model of our favorite monument in Washington. I couldn’t decide between the Capitol, the Lincoln Memorial, or the White House, so Pop said we’d make a scale diorama of the whole L’Enfant Plan—which is the Mall and the Ellipse together, with all of the federal buildings around them and the Washington Monument inthe middle. The Hobby Shop on Thayer Street has white plastic replicas of all the marble landmarks, but we’re going to have to make the weird ones like the National Archives and the Smithsonian out of balsa wood. All of the buildings are going to light up in different colors and there’ll even be real water in the reflecting pool and real Astroturf on the Mall. Lori told Pop that it can’t be as high as the planetarium was, but she never said anything about how wide—so we’re thinking five feet by fifteen feet. Pop says it’s a shame we have to end it at the Potomac River because he promised her the Iwo Jima statue too, and that’s in Arlington. I’m glad he’s checking with her first this time. She acted kind of funny about the eight-foot map of Massachusetts.
But there’s definitely something spurious going on here that I’m not supposed to be able to figure out. Back in the old days (like last month), it would have gone right over my head—but ever since Cupid shot me in the butt, nothing gets by me anymore. This morning in the middle of our jog, me and Pop were sitting
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