Amazing how a tiny, poor country can manufacture such incredible talent. It’s a great way to climb the ladder. Let’s give it up for our neighbors south of the border—um, south and east of the border. They produced a helluva shortstop.” A discernible hush fell over the already quiet room, only to be interrupted by the shuffling of feet and nervous repositioning of bodies on chairs, myself included. Ty slapped his hands together and shouted, “Yeah, let’s hear it for the D.R., baby.” The room responded with tepid applause. At the microphone, Theo Thompson, owner of Thompson Tools and Hardware and corporate sponsor of Thompson Stadium, looked down at a lady who was pulling on his sleeve. “What? What’d I say wrong?” “Not the most politically correct speech,” I whispered to Sheriff John Hualga, seated to my left. Hualga shrugged, brow furrowed. “He means well. Theo puts his foot in his mouth sometimes,” he whispered back, “but this team would be playing on a Little League field without him.
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