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Word Count: 942
As we move from being a youngster to an adolescent to an adult we have possessions that come and go Those items that we are able to keep for the entire trip becomes a personal treasure mementos of our life After years of aging through these items we are able to piece together our childhood existence For me one of those items was my lucky t-shirt The back-story to how I received this shirt is rather simple As I recall or more like from what I can remember it was a frigid mid- January morning but all I could think about was baseball I was eight years old but while most kids my age were thinking about building snow forts and starting snowball fights I was more in the mindset of a little leaguer on a muggy Saturday afternoon in August I can remember counting down the days until the baseball hitting clinic was to take place I even crossed off the days on our annual Norman Rockwell calendar on our kitchen refrigerator As I arrived at the then brand new Anderson Center I can recall walking into the lobby and being simply astonished at the shear giganticness of the gymnasium compared to how small I was I was your not-so-typical eight-year old Standing at about four feet tall all of the other players towered over me like a squirrel standing next to a Redwood tree I was so small that the t-shirt I received which fit every other kid like a glove fit me more like a bed sheet My group decided that we were all going to wear our shirts while participating in the clinic that was easier said than done for me at least As you could imagine trying to swing a baseball bat while wearing a t-shirt the length of a wedding dress was not an easy task to accomplish After my first few swings I quickly realized that that was
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