Brotherhood and Baseball: A History Companion to "If Baseball Integrated Early"

By Doug Fowler

Civil War ends early! Abraham Lincoln lives! Explore an eventful world with numerous twists and turns, as Lincoln's leniency leads to less Southern hostility toward the North. Can this and the integration of baseball from the start be enough to bring Civil Rights to America early in this alternate history? Can baseball really have the impact one man dreams? Enjoy as national leaders and ordinary people interact from the sudden Union win at Chancellorsville through the 1860s, then into the 1910s and '20s and beyond.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781105667978

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Brotherhood and Baseball: A History Companion to "If Baseball Integrated Early"

Brotherhood and Baseball

A U.S. history companion to If Baseball Integrated Early

by

Doug Fowler

Introduction

You may or may not have heard of If Baseball Integrated Early. Since its publication online, my research into U.S. history has provided a much more precise picture of how it would likely have changed after the Point of Departure (POD) where things start to differ.

I use historical figures born after the POD for two reasons. First, I prefer changing who is born only if it’s clearly impossible the person was born in the alternate timeline, which is one of several theories about writing Alternate History. Second, I feel readers will have more fun seeing how known people would react in a different setting. I try to explain changes which impact the personalities when I think it’s needed.

Of course, victims of a longer American Civil War survive here. Some of their lives are followed. They lead to others surviving. I focus mostly on characters. My handicaps prevent me from seeing or describing really vivid detail well, so I focus on dialogue and events. You’ll have to work to imagine the gunpowder as Chancellorsville takes a dramatic turn. Still, I try to give a great feel for the situation as a heartfelt Let’s win, men! leads to many different turns. I don’t use the precise inflections of the day, but people differ on those at times, and you can imagine them, anyway. And, I still have them talk like normal for the times – more formal, hello not used much, etc.. As I say, I want people to focus on the story being told, and you can add things as you please. That’s the beauty of reading to me.

The great turns of history are what matter here. Baseball is a constant, as the American pastime is a backdrop in these peoples’ lives. Some of them are ordinary people, whose lives intersect with great leaders like Abraham Lincoln, Oscar Underwood, and Octavius Catto, an early Civil Rights leader who survives here. Some great leaders have baseball as a backdrop, too, as they trudge through the dog days of August in the pennant race that is their lives. Both groups, the ordinary people and the leaders, have one thing in common. They are Americans, in a nation which, thanks to one man’s efforts, has seen its national pastime integrated from the beginning. It is one where some hope to show that all men are created equal.

So, please, sit back, relax, and enjoy.

This book portrays historical figures in an alternate universe. It does not represent actual history, and should not be taken as such. It is a record of what could have happened in the world created by the point of departure, with emphasis on the differences.

Copyright © 2011 by Doug Fowler, all rights reserved

ISBN: 978-1-105-66797-8

Brotherhood and Baseball

Part One

Chapter One

Think the pathetic vibrations of your vocal chords will ward off Rebels?

Charles Smith was glad his older brother was at least trying to joke around among the vast amounts of dirt, rags, and fleas. Sometimes, Charles thought David was too serious. Sure, their situation was very unpleasant. But, they could always find some good. He smiled and retorted, Our Lord calls us to make a joyful noise, David.

It should be joyful for the hearer, as well, David quipped. He scanned the countryside, and muttered, How much longer will this war go on?

"I wish I knew. Rebs have got us on our heels,’ Charles admitted.

Tall, athletic John Benton reminded them why they were there. We must not let the situation get us down, he encouraged Charles and David. This glorious Union is worth every ounce of sacrifice. I firmly believe freeing the slaves is a fight worth fighting even more, one we must win, at all costs.

Who’s fighting? These last few days, we have only marched back and forth, David chided him as they eyed what appeared to be Confederate pickets – perhaps Longstreet’s corps. If I tell Ed in my next letter home, he’ll want to volunteer all the more, he said of their youngest brother, Edward. "He can’t imagine the ugliness. I know I could never have imagined what would come of our fighting.

At least it’s keeping you in shape, Benton, Charles added. Benton was one of the great young baseballists of the day, a phenom among the boys and young men of his town before the Civil War. Noticing his brother’s snickers, Charles added, David may not fully appreciate the hours you devote to the game of base ball, but it provides great joy to so many. It is an excellent pastime.

John nodded in agreement, as they finished their rations. He began to say something, but lost track of what.

A low murmur turned into a rousing crescendo, with people hurriedly shouting all kinds of things. Hooker, concussion, dead, and emergency were among many words darting swiftly among the men who had seemingly just set up positions. The great uncertainty caused concerns over a calamitous rout.

As swiftly as the cacophony rose, though, it died. General John Reynolds rode among the divisions, urging his corps to march again. This would be much shorter, though; stealth was far less important than speed. They would reach their destination much faster without crossing the Rappahannock. They were to support - or maybe protect - Sedgwick’s corps. Neither they nor acting commander Darius Couch knew how he was faring, but Couch was worried. Sedgwick’s corps had been ordered to march toward them during the wee hours of the morning. He should have reached them by now.

That‘s where they seemed to be headed, anyway. It was hard to tell, they’d moved so much. They’d seen little action in this battle, though, and all were thankful.

Some men were detached to support the center, but the others kept marching. Reynolds would take time to reach him. Such confusion was the nature of an army Couch was calling very disjointed. Such is the life of a Union soldier, David mused. We marched 20 miles, just got here, and now we’re going back.

Charles suggested that he could run and see what had happened, as they passed near where Couch likely was. David scolded his younger brother. What do you think you’re going to do, sneak into headquarters? Besides, if General Hooker has been killed, there will be such chaos, you would do better sticking to what we are doing. Even if it means more of your lousy singing, he teased.

Charles knew David was right, as an advance scout rode back to report that Sedgwick was trying to hold the upper hand Salem’s Church; a battle loomed for Bank’s Ford, as Sedgwick came on Plank Road toward Chancellorsville.

Did you see Rebels? Reynolds barked, signaling a steady charge toward Bank’s Ford. His division commanders could analyze where the Rebels were as they rode. "This part is my command right now," he mused. We’re relying on instinct right now, but that’s the way we fight best, not relying on political machinations.

When told there were, Reynolds ordered his men to fire once they got close enough to the Confederate soldiers.

Charles’ muscles tensed, as he prepared his mind for combat. Morale wasn’t always very high, but it was a lot higher than it had been before Hooker took charge. He sensed that these generals knew what they were doing. It was up to the foot soldiers to carry out those orders; they’d learn what it was about later.

That last was true. But, little did he know that the generals at headquarters were less certain than he thought.

Is he coming around? General Couch asked the medic just after noon, as they looked at an unconscious General Joseph Hooker in a tent in back of their defensive formation. Couch had quickly given orders, and then rushed back. "It’s a gamble, but if their army is that big, we can do a little dance here, and then retreat from Bank’s Ford or U.S. Ford. Meanwhile, we have to try to take the offensive," he’d decided. He’d sent Reynolds toward Fredericksburg, and ordered those on the army’s right to observe what the pickets did opposite Reynolds – they could always attack from there if the Confederates started to attack.

He responds physically to touch, but he hasn’t attempted to communicate on his own, was the medic’s response. Typical, severe concussion.

Hooker’s chief of staff, Daniel Butterfield, nodded nervously, a little confused. He didn’t like the notion of General Hooker being unavailable; yes, Couch seemed capable, but Hooker was their leader, and a friend of Butterfield’s. Couch’s orders to attack, plus sending Reynolds’ men back toward Sedgwick, both went back on the defensive stance Hooker had ordered - though Couch’s orders were similar to Hooker’s plans before the battle took shape and Hooker backed off.

I don’t think he’ll be fit to resume command for a while, the medic added.

It’s a good thing I was near… Couch saw the wounded man move his head. As a moan came from deep inside Hooker, Couch sighed. Even if he were coherent, it would be a question of whether he could function effectively. "And then, what will I do with this disjointed army? I have tried something, but then, what?"

Butterfield chose his words carefully. Coherence would mean ability, Sir. I confess, because of the chain of command, Sir, I am concerned that we are doing what we are, though I will admit that we had to do something. Still…

This is where we are, Couch interrupted with some impatience. Reynolds’ men have hardly fought. Sedgwick may be in danger; he should have been here by now, and if he’s way out left, he said, flailing his left arm, we need to plug a gap in our line, anyway.  Slocum and Meade can keep them from a breakthrough, I’m sure, he noted, referring to General Robert Anderson’s men, who were trying to advance on that side. Plus, our scouts tell us Jackson may be wounded. We still have a right flank with our defensive ‘v’; we should attack with our left, Couch declared. It may not happen immediately. But, we are in a position to deal some blows. When the aide dissented politely, Couch asked point blank, I realize the Porter court martial is fresh in our minds; but, do you really believe we can afford to wait?

The medic held up both hands. Gentlemen, please! I cannot work effectively with you arguing like this. Now, if you want him to recover at all, take it outside!

General Butterfield relented. Couch, too, passed the doctor an understanding smile. They realized that the medical corps was a special one, with Hippocrates as their standard bearer. And, Hooker’s health did seem to be in peril.

Everything just seemed wrong. Stoneman’s raiders couldn’t be located, either - nobody knew what had happened to them. General Lee was doing incredible work, and might win if they didn’t do something fast. The aide was glad he wasn’t in charge. The number of things they had to contend with was astronomical. He’d have felt so much better if Hooker were actually conscious to handle them.

I am sorry; I am trying hard to support General Hooker; that is all. The situation is so volatile, Butterfield spoke, as they stepped into a corner to let the doctor work.

We all feel the same, Couch promised. I have concerns because we are so disjointed. But, to do nothing is to admit defeat. Yes, perhaps Lee will attack again; or Longstreet will come out of that wilderness. We will have to make some things up as we go; I told Reynolds to use his judgment, he admitted. Still, to remain on defense was not an option, in my mind. I believe General Hooker would have seen that. I think our numbers are superior; Peck said Longstreet was still at Suffolk, though we thought him to be here. Were Longstreet’s men clearly with General Lee’s it might be different. But, suppose he is only hours away. While we wait, we could lose our advantage.

Butterfield could only nod in agreement; Couch had made a good case. That is a concern. As a favor to General Hooker - he is still our commanding officer - if Reynolds’ men are repelled when they reach Sedgwick, will you reconsider?

Certainly. He knew it was possible that Hooker was right, that they faced larger forces. He understood this aide was trying hard to support General Hooker. This was why he was giving him some leeway. However, he also knew that time was of the essence. Let us leave the good doctor to his work, and see what comes of this move.

The Smith brothers, Benton, and thousands of others heard rebels in the distance. They followed the charge command, rushing to see Sedgwick’s forces near Salem Church, being held up by Wilcox’ men. McLaws’ forces were entering the fray. They struck both groups simultaneously with Sedgwick, catching them by surprise.

Facing a possible rout, with no place to go, many Confederates surrendered by early evening, with quite a few more killed or wounded on both sides.

Virginian Thomas Russell looked on in concern.

One minute, he and others in his regiment were starting to successfully beat back the Yankees. Suddenly, with little warning, a sea of blue had flooded the area from somewhere on his left – it was hard to tell exactly where.

Still, he tried to hold his ground as the battle shifted. More Confederate soldiers came to their aid, but the Yankees had generated confusion and consternation. As he and others drifted back, another general – it turned out to be Jubal Early - gallantly charged with his men toward the line. It was, however, unsuccessful. Russell was just thankful he hadn’t been sandwiched like Mahone – where was he, anyway?

Oh, well, that didn’t matter at present. Survival was the primary goal, as the blue from Reynolds’ corps befuddled things so, it would have clouded a perfectly clear day. Eventually, even Early’s divisions disappeared into the dense fog of battle; the attack ordered by Lee to dislodge the Union before nightfall had been unsuccessful.

Russell was one of few in his regiment able to fall back. Several regiments had nearly dissolved, in fact. Russell and others were led by a captain, and placed in Wright’s brigade of Anderson’s division. It was reorganized as well as possible overnight. Exhausted from the bitter fight as they rested on the cold, hard ground, thankful to be alive, Russell turned to a Georgia native who seemed to be about his age; at most, he was twenty. Thomas Russell, he said politely.

Elisha Gates, the young man, who went by Eli, said, giving his Georgia regiment. What in tarnation was that? We’re moving up to bottle them Yanks, then suddenly they start to attack us, and we have to drop back.

I don’t know, Russell said with great uncertainty. I thought we were getting a big win, pushing them Yankees back near that churchyard. Then, suddenly, so many Yanks I couldn’t count came from what had been a clear road. He shook his head. I wish I knew where all that came from.

The battle had changed greatly that day. Yet, they saw the figure of Robert E. Lee far off in the distance, as the sky dimmed. They figured Lee would plan something to counter what had happened. He had for a year before, after all.

Union soldiers cheered wildly, after Early’s force was repulsed. They had held the high ground. With dusk falling over Virginia, the mood – perplexed to the point of utter terror hours ago – had risen tremendously. Especially because of one scene, coming soon before the setting sun caused the blue and gray uniforms to blend so it was impossible to tell them apart, and the Confederates pulled back for the evening.

David Smith noticed some men being detached with prisoners. Why don’t you go with ‘em, Benton? Maybe you can teach ‘em baseball, David quipped.

Benton replied, I’d like to; I think we got Jubal Early.

We got General Early? another soldier shouted.

Yep. Why should I stop there, though; Lee might be next, Benton said brashly.

It wasn’t Early, it was Longstreet, another shouted.

They said his men were coming, a different soldier agreed.

A new voice, that of a man coming in from retrieving the wounded, declared One of their generals is dead! as both sides gathered their wounded and dead from the battlefield. The tumult continued, as mass confusion reigned.

It wasn’t quite as Benton had hoped, though a general was captured. What had happened was this. Lee had learned of Reynolds’ movement, but needed to discern that the brigade detached and sent toward Chancellorsville had been a feint there. Several of the brigades Lee had sent to Salem’s Church were practically sandwiched, once Reynolds’ men turned onto Plank Road. They wound up almost behind parts of Lee’s lines. Lee ordered an attack, but it was repelled by Winfield Hancock, leading Couch’s corps. When that failed, Lee sent Early in to help McLaws.

Casualties – especially Confederate – were huge in number. General McLaws had been killed, Wilcox captured in the confusion, and Early and Mahone wounded on Lee’s side, Mahone more severely, though both would recover.

With Early repulsed, Lee couldn’t take, let alone reinforce, Salem’s Church or Bank’s Ford. As night fell, Union forces held most of Plank Road.

Reynolds rode through his lines that evening. Great job, boys, but be warned, Lee’s sly as a fox, and Longstreet’s somewhere. We’re ready for anything, though! he shouted to encourage them. He knew he, too, had to be ready for anything. Uninterested in the political machinations above him, he just wanted to win. They couldn’t plan like they had hoped, but that was part of war, he told himself. A lot could still go wrong. But, they had the high ground. They just had to decide what to do.

General Lee burned the midnight oil. While he wouldn’t let it show, he was even a little flummoxed, though his optimism still remained.

Part of the reason for that bit of confusion was that the man he considered his right arm had been hurt. Stonewall Jackson’s injury the day before had been very painful for him – at least he was still alive. But, now? I was this close to attacking Hooker’s last line, when something changed drastically in their strategy, Lee mused. An urgent message from Early had warned him about Sedgwick, but he’d figured he could take Sedgwick’s unit, based on where the others appeared to be and on how he’d handled Union armies in the past. He had Reynolds tied up with a false line, so one corps was neutralized, and Hooker bottled up. He’d had them right where he wanted them.

And yet, out of the blue, Reynolds had gone from Lee’s far left to Salem Church – surely on a double march - and attacked full force! It had been a total change in strategy and placement, and caused immense damage!

Come, he said absently to a messenger.

Sir, while recovering wounded, one of our men overheard that General Hooker was seriously injured, it appears by a stray shell sometime this morning, the messenger said, saluting and handing Lee a note.

Lee nodded slowly. So, that’s why the change, he said to himself. He thought he could still win the battle, though – whatever their plan, he was confident he could match it.

It was time for a staff meeting. John Gordon, who had performed valiantly earlier in the war, would replace Early if need be for a day or two, and W.T. Wofford would take over for McLaws. A.P. Hill, whom Lee trusted greatly, could command Jackson’s corps in a couple days, allowing Stuart to return to the cavalry, though Stuart had done well with infantry today, in an emergency. Once they pushed the Army of the Potomac out of Virginia – as they had always done before – he would reorganize his army.

In the meantime, Lee had no idea what Couch – he figured it was Couch – would do; but he had to prevent the Union from having a clear path to Richmond. They’re spread thin – though who knows what they’ll be like in the morning – so, I will attack, he pondered. Still, though he didn’t take such things into account, the Potomac was also more rested, and had better provisions than his Army of Northern Virginia.

V-V-Virginia? General Hooker held his head, still trying to concentrate. Is…that where…? He tried to sit up, but his world started to spin, and he lay back down

Sir, lay, please, as the doctor says, Butterfield spoke quietly. This was not good.

General Couch and other corps commanders had planned for battle. Now, they were up before the crack of dawn on the 4th. They needed to be in this together.

Sadly, their worst fears were being confirmed, as they tried to speak with Hooker.

Sir, who did we tell you had been hurt? Couch asked. When Hooker was unsure, Couch added, Jackson, remember?

Andrew? Isn’t…he on our side? There was something about New Orleans; or, was that the previous war?

Butterfield sighed heavily, as the generals solemnly lowered their heads. All were very mournful at Hooker’s struggles.

The medic spoke grimly. Sirs, I believe it best if General Hooker is relieved.

I know you want what’s best for our commander, Meade whispered to the aide, but he’s obviously not in any shape to command right now.

Oliver Howard had felt so frustrated on the 2nd, after his corps was decimated. He’d done adequately yesterday, though. And now, he sought to uplift others, knowing it would help General Hooker, but also help him. He walked up to Hooker, saluted sharply, and said, Sir, congratulations. Your plan seems to have worked.

It has? Yes…my plan… Hooker tried to clear the fog in his mind.

You may have started us toward winning the war. Now, please, allow the doctor to remain with you while we chase after the remainder of Lee’s army, Reynolds said, catching on to what Howard was doing. He thought it was very clever – while the man called Fighting Joe would want to go out fighting, he realized that going out a winner might be the best, or perhaps only, way he was going to be able to go.

Meade concurred. You will go down in history, Sir.

Thank you…what were your names again? I’m a little confused yet, Hooker said in a somewhat groggy voice, but a smile now on his face.

Butterfield nodded slowly. Sir, lay for a while longer, so you are not nauseous again, he requested solemnly, before turning to the others. Words failed Butterfield as he considered the respect they had just paid Hooker. As he would watch over Hooker’s fitful sleep that night, he’d realize – as much as he disliked it – it had been wise to leave him behind. Hooker could have the satisfaction of hearing about his plan succeeding.

Thank you for your help, Couch said in parting. I know it was rough for you, Butterfield, being his friend. But, if he recuperates away from battle, feeling he won the day may be the best medicine of all for him. Although, all suspected that a full recovery was probably not going to happen in this life.

He passed Howard a grateful look, and then each corps commander – including Winfield Hancock, who had replaced Couch - took a turn saluting and thanking the dazed, bewildered general. Thoughts of his plan, of his worries and shift to defense, of many things, faded as the men slowly exited the impromptu medical drama and left the tent. They found words difficult, as they suddenly emerged in the brilliant light, with the large Army of the Potomac stretching before them.

Couch stood for a moment, the others around him. He didn’t notice their inquisitive looks. The burden of putting together a disjointed army in the middle of a battle had given way to a firm resolution to let Howard’s attempt to soften the blow become a promise. He barked a decisive, emotion-laden, Let’s win, men!

At the White House, President Lincoln read the latest dispatch from the Army of the Potomac. It had thrown off the shackles of despair brought on by the last two years of poor leadership on the part of a number of generals. Finally, a general who can…oh! Lincoln exclaimed suddenly, as he read the last lines. Assurance of victory had morphed into a sea of uncertainty, as President Lincoln‘s face grew ashen. I finally find a good general, and I cannot keep him, Lincoln muttered.

Recalling that Lincoln had spoken highly of the man laying siege to Vicksburg, the messenger guessed, Something has happened to General Grant?

Lincoln chuckled as he glanced at the messenger. The terrible misfortune of the last two years had convinced you, too, that finding a competent leader for the Army of the Potomac might be impossible.

Well… The man from the telegraph office chided himself for not thinking of the fight in Virginia. He should have known that this was the reason for the telegram. He was thankful for Lincoln’s sense of humor, and decided to run with it. I had begun to wonder. I suppose you had, too, Sir.

Yes. Thankfully, General Grant is still well, and plans to take Vicksburg. The Army of the Potomac had been doing well, but now they have finally had time to send word that Hooker has been hurt enough to be relieved of duty.

The president hummed, and quickly scribbled a note. It read, It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what to do – remember that Lee won’t know what you are doing then, either. Advance on Richmond with all possible vigor. He looked up at the young man, and thanked him for his second dispatch; Lincoln had left the War Department after getting the first one. I wish a man who fights, and who will work with us, he said, standing and striding quickly as he spoke. Soon, he was out of the White House, with the somewhat startled messenger on his heels.

The president strode quickly and purposefully toward the War Department. A man of the people, he hated being called a coward, which he had been by some after sneaking into Washington for his inauguration. Now, he tried to be accessible to everyone, and delighted in greeting others on the way. Still, that burden wore heavily upon him; he was so occupied with the Civil War.

A passerby noticed that Lincoln seemed a little more confident, and shouted, How goes the war? Lincoln shouted back that it was hopeful.

An officer greeted Lincoln warmly. They chatted as a messenger fetched General Halleck. Halleck shared the president’s passion for micromanaging at times; he ensured every single thing was accounted for in a battle. War Secretary Stanton hadn’t arrived yet that morning, but Lincoln didn’t mind – at times, he liked to work around Stanton

Halleck had been briefed on the situation. He suggested that Slocum seemed too cautious, but that Meade seemed very capable. I think to keep pursuing is slightly reckless, given the situation. Of course, that is understandable, given the short time to prepare, he hastened to add, and they are to be commended for handling things as they have. But, I would consider sending a cable appointing Meade now.

I am given to understand that Hooker had begun to abandon his original plan and set up a defensive posture.

The general told Lincoln that was true. The rebels did well; Lee could still win this battle. I believe one reason they might not encounter more problems in pursuing Lee, if they don’t, is that Lee’s forces were taken by surprise, with the sudden shift from defense to all-out attack. Lincoln agreed. Meade will ensure they are supplied well. I truly believe Meade has the capacity to do what it takes to win.

I like Meade, too, but let us see how things go. I have a difficult enough time having to replace generals in the Army of the Potomac as often as I do, without having to replace them hypothetically as well as literally.

Hooker’s memory has not returned; even his closest aide admits that he fears the general may not recover enough to resume command for some time, if ever.

Lincoln somberly noted that he’d received the same message, his mind already on writing the family, as he liked to do for fallen officers, which added to the strain he felt. I’m glad to see someone trying to pursue; I hope Grant might soon be available. Halleck frowned. I know you scoff, but he has put together an excellent campaign. If Richmond should fall, and the rebels flee, we will need reorganization. Should that happen, once Vicksburg is ours, I wish to meet with you, Stanton, Grant, and at least one head of the multi-headed beast chasing Lee.

Very well, though I hope we can capture Richmond and be done with it.

We may end the war by ‘64, Lincoln noted with caution. However, while they may soon become desperate, I don’t see them folding that quickly, he mourned.

The battle had taken a heavy toll on both armies. The Army of the Potomac repulsed Lee’s last attempt to retake the high ground on the 4th. In the last four days, they’d had 15,000 casualties – killed, wounded, and captured – while Lee’s army had suffered 21,000. The Union held a huge numerical advantage afterward.

Not only that, but Longstreet had been sent to plunder supplies from the Federal depot at Suffolk. Not only were they running low on them, but if this kept up, they might not have time to adequately distribute any to the men of the Army of Northern Virginia; to say nothing of what could happen if the Federal army happened to take some of those stores back.

Charles Smith gazed up as stars appeared, considering the huge cost. We sure got hit hard today, he said pensively. Be nice to know why all that marching.

To see the whole battlefield, I guess, David said practically. Maybe to find the weak point. Looked like Sedgwick’s corps was getting hammered when we came in and hit that one where we got their general.

Benton’s mind was elsewhere. It’d be nice to see Colored troops fighting with us. I know they’ve got ‘em with a few units.

You’re a dreamer. David smiled. As he pondered, he considered that it was good to have dreamers, among all this madness. Indeed, maybe just by being here, he was one. He dreamed he could survive, after all. I guess we all are, huh? Not all are fighting to end slavery like us. But, that’s what it’s becoming.

It’d be nice to stay back next time, if they take volunteers, and teach reading, writing, baseball…. He heard David snicker. "It’s fun to put teams