Ubaldo and his high socks stand tall on the mound, awaiting Adam's return to the arena.
Adam takes a deep sigh. Sentiment is therewise banished from his rectangular domain. Adam is fully, actively, gum-smackingly in the moment.
Ubaldo's 97-mph pirahnas nibble the inside of the zone, inducing by a thousand bites a 2-2 count. As he sets his feet, Adam swings THB low at the knees. He's ready to cook some fish.
Ubaldo sends a slider down the stream. And yea, though Adam's momentous chop could cleave the waters, it cannot hack this slider.
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