Here I’m not the Playboy Pitcher, the fame-seeking party boy people view me as. I’m not Friday night’s good time or a story to share with friends down the road. I’m not a prize that’ll lose its shine or a worthless memory that’ll fade into nothing. Here, I’m not the man the tabloids have decided I am, an egotistical jackass looking to score in more ways than one. Here, I’m Tobias Cruz, the real Tobias Cruz. The twelve-year-old boy who got up before dawn to run four miles before school. The fifteen-year-old kid who tied an old Honda tire to his waste and drug it up and down the street to gain
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