There's this one Houston Astro who's full of life. During batting practice, he'll tell Lance Berkman, "I think I'll learn to make sherbet from scratch." Or, in the midst of a pitching change, he'll tell Adam Everett, "Dodger Dogs are the best." Or, between innings, he'll ask Everett, "Cancún this winter?" His teammates love him, but they can't explain him. They can't explain why his pulse never rose during last year's World Series. Or why he won't argue with a bad umpire. Or why, this June and July, he insisted on playing with one good arm.
Or why, when fans ask him in the kindest way for an autograph, he lowers his head, purses his lips, pulls a cross out over his jersey, looks down, signs abruptly, and rushes away.
That one, a lot of people just don't get.