When I was five I was king of the yard, and my grandfather said I had one hell of an arm. I remember learning his split-finger Fastball, and all the tales he would stretch with that famous Turner charm. And by the fire pit in my old backyard, I used to Sit transfixed by his stories. About the time him and Mickey Mantle drank all night long, spinning yarns of all their former glories. And I remember Christmas eve when I was ten and Ma told Grandpa He was wasting my time. She sent him packing in the pouring Rain; things were never quite the same after that night. But in The package he left under the tree was a new silver wristwatch Addressed to his favorite grandson, Henry.