Casey Visits Ted

Casey is the blame for me slipping into rehab. Yet I love the guy. Ever since he started watching me play as a teenager in Melville, not Mudville, Casey and I have been inseparable. So when he showed up at the house with a map to Ted Williams boyhood home, I was you could say intrigued. We journeyed to a community called North Park and looked for the house on Utah Street which was #4121. We found it. Shabby, tacky, colorless, tawdry. Casey began to cry! I was shocked! Did this befit one of the greatest ballplayers in the game, a war hero in not one, but 2 American wars? I think not. Shame on you, San Diego! We half expected Ted's frozen head to come rolling down the cracked driveway stopping at our feet and pleading with us to do something about this injustice. And so Casey had done it again. Here I was ready to cash in on another fortune and he had lured me back into the game. I hate that guy! But I love him so damn much!