Sport: A Game of Inches

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Bench jockeys heckled him from across the diamond and shirtsleeved kibitzers shouted advice from the stands, but the burly, ruddy man alongside the Cincinnati bat rack gave no sign that he heard. The center-field Scoreboard reminded him that he was a front runner in a National League pennant race so close that the loss of a single game might mean the difference between first place and fourth, but beyond pawing abstractedly at his red-sleeved uniform shirt, he appeared unmoved. All week long, alone in the shouting crowd with his furious concentration,...

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