i understand. rounding second, heading to third, you're tired, panting, hoping to high heaven the third base coach tells you to stop. what's that? there's a throw? slide? what? how? you stumble, graceful as a, well, 300 pound ballplayer. after all, you are 'da meat hook.
ouch. that looks painful. but rejoice! you're safe! your 'slide' will be soon forgotten by the few fans in attendance.
except that fleer had a photographer there. twice.
how many other times were there, dmitri?
Just think, if he slid feet first, he wouldn't have to spit out dirt for the next 5 minutes. But then the cards wouldn't be as cool either.
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