Chapter 2: Julio and Roberto

Julio couldn’t contain his excitement. He knew he’d recited to his mother every stat he could remember already — which was just about all of them — but you couldn’t put a stat on The Great One’s arm. Or at least, that’s what he’d always heard. Today, finally, he’d get to see him play in person.

Every letter home, Dad always said he was doing fine, that it wasn’t so bad over there, that Mom shouldn’t worry — and he’d ask how Roberto was hitting. Julio always dutifully kept his own notes from the box scores to make sure he could give his dad all the stats. He said it helped him remember why he was over there, and helped him feel closer to home, instead of some jungle.

The next time they sent a package to him, well...

Dad’s gonna flip when he sees me at Wrigley!

“ROBERTO!!!!” Julio screamed at the top of his lungs. He waved, hoping the Pirate would look up from his warmup throws in right field. “Mom, look! There he is!” He could scarcely believe it himself. “Mom! Look!”

She finally did and nodded, but Julio was pretty sure she didn’t get it.

He’s right there!!!

Mom told him to stand still for a photo against the railing, though, so he did — as difficult as he found it to stop from bounding. He hoped that in the background behind him, if he squinted, Dad would be able to see the “21” on the back of the man warming up that magical arm.