As Jarry Derby entered the affluent and adorned sports facility in his hometown, his expectations ran high. With a low paying, manual labor job that he has showed up religiously for 2 decades, Jarry’s only hobby that makes him smile is professional baseball. Mopping up fecal material and breathing in chemical irritants contained in industrial cleaners, Mr. Derby puts in 40 hours a week at a nursing home with dying patrons who “spill the beans” on a daily basis. Jarry watches parents who were dropped off by their children years ago and now show up 3 times a year to see if the Grim Reaper is ready to harvest their parents and put the brakes on their declining inheritance. With all this despair that abounds, Jarry stays pretty upbeat in performing his janitorial duties. Knowing that late February is the start of spring training and the playoffs go nearly to November, its only 3 1/2 months with no baseball, but the holidays with the old people can be just as rewarding. In his youth, Mr. Derby was quite the baseball player himself but was overlooked by the scouts because he was on the wrong side of the tracks. In addition, a bad marriage and problem children kept him from his dream. With all that now behind him and a few dollars saved, Jarry looks forward to the 6 budget games he can afford per season. With the season underway, and the first cheap home game days away, a few select fans that included Jarry, can file on the field after the game and high five the entire home team just like the opposing team does. Unfortunately, the Corona Virus hit America hard. The city health officials frowned on this act of appreciation. After much bickering and discussions with medical experts, the 25 fans were allowed to walk face to face with the players wearing approved masks. They stopped 25 times with their hands at their sides like an Irish dancer and raised their left legs. On cue the players and fans feet touched briefly, and they moved on. Jarry’s eyes teared up badly.