A Significant Gamble (part 3 of 4)

read parts 1, 2 Again, we waded into the river of spilling coins and falling chips. Sam tugged at my collar when I found myself, as before, momentarily stunned by the ever-changing casino landscape. He lead me in this way, effective if not terribly ill-mannered for a Southern gentleman, past a minefield of slot machines, … Continue reading A Significant Gamble (part 3 of 4)

A Significant Gamble (part 2 of 4)

read part 1 Two enormous chandeliers hung at even intervals above the vast casino floor and swayed gently, almost imperceptibly, with the rocking of the boat. A million tiny crystals cascaded down their sides like frozen bits of waterfall and the light shining through them left confetti-like flecks on the surrounding walls and the backs … Continue reading A Significant Gamble (part 2 of 4)

A Significant Gamble (part 1 of 4)

I don’t know how I ended up there. It wasn’t my original destination, maybe not even my second choice. But I found myself wandering aimlessly across the pier, inhaling the dank aroma of sodden timber and murky river water. I’d been drawn here, maybe by that same soft voice which beckons lovers to their chance … Continue reading A Significant Gamble (part 1 of 4)

The Tragedy of Being Born Right-Handed by Frank Morelli

My latest column is live at Change Seven Magazine!

Change Seven Magazine

A collection of personal essays, Peanuts & Crackerjacks pays tribute to life’s most undervalued and effective instructor: the world of sports.

From the start I wanted to be a pitcher. I wanted to stand tall on the summit of the baseball diamond–at the center of it all–working the laces on the rawhide and setting the game in motion at my will. A slight nod, a stream of spit, and I’d fire something high and tight on the 0-2 count just to keep the batter guessing, because “pitching is the art of instilling fear.” Sandy Koufax said that. He also won the Cy Young Award three times and pitched four no-hitters and a perfect game, so how could he be wrong?

Thing was, every time I tried to throw a pitch–like, in a real game–I only ever managed to frighten the backstop. Like, the actual backstop. Not the catcher. I could…

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