Tommy led me to the dugout and told me to sit down, he’d be right back. I perched on the edge of the bench, beside some players. I said hello. The players didn’t answer. I said I was allowed to be there, because my uncle’s friend was in charge of security. The players said nothing. Tommy returned and sat beside me. I told him those players were mad at me. “Them?” he said. “They’re from Puerto Rico. No habla inglés, kid.
