There’s no crying in baseball， apparently no reading either。

To me， it was a no-brainer。 What better way to pass the time during the world’s most boring sport？ If my best friend is going to guilt me into attending a Coyotes game with him， I’m definitely bringing a book。 But who could have predicted star pitcher Carter Barlowe would spot me in the stands and give two flying fastballs that I was more interested in my novel than in his return to the mound？ I had never heard of him before that day。 Now， he’s made sure I know exactly who he is and what he wants。 Me。