Writing a book, like playing baseball, is only enjoyable if one's teammates are good, or at least likeable.
I am very thankful to the baseball gods that the authors in this book are true professionals who love what they do. For all their hard work and cheery dispositions, especially in the off season, I can do no more than tip my cap.
A special thank you goes out to Bill Irwin who gave us the green light and waved us home. Like all good coaches, he makes us play our best, and like a true friend, his faith and trust never waver. And thanks to Greg Bassham for his vast generosity, his consistent, kind words, and his genuine cigars. With Bill and Greg on the field, it's always an honor to wear their uniform.
Two first ballot Hall of Famers who deserve special credit are Tim Wiles and W.C. Burdick. For their great work in Cooperstown, they should be enshrined.
To David Ramsay Steele in the front office, whose sharp vision helped us hit the curve balls, before we ever saw them coming, and to Carolyn Madia Gray, whose wit and wisdom see us through, I give a hearty high-five.
Of course, baseball is a family game, and no one can capture its spirit without a loving and supporting cast. To my parents who always stood at the dugout steps for every strikeout and every hit, the game ball is always yours. Thanks also to Team Prescott who withstood all the broken bats and errant throws with grace and love.
Standing ovations also go to Evelyn Bronson, Michael J. McGrath, William N. Irwin, John Loyd, Robert Guldner, Steve Libenson, Ray Doswell, Abigail Myers, Jimmy Murphy, Jason Klein, and of course, Betty Morris.
At Berkeley College, where I play my home games, Arthur Blumenthal and Phil Krebs help make the game fun. And finally, thanks to William Moya and my students who never lose faith, through the long practices, and all the rainy days.