little league

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There is nothing quite like seeing a little boy swagger into the batter's box feeling twice his size, wielding the bat like some fantastic medieval bludgeon, and then right before that one poised, motionless moment when he will manfully stare down the vulturing pitcher, he sticks his behind out slightly and shakes it just a little and all you can see, shining in the afternoon sunlight through his white polyester baseball trousers, are all the little dinosaurs dancing on his underwear.

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