Weredog Tart (33)

   
   "Weredog Tart (33)"
   
   Serendipity suddenly calling; specifically, Lance's ex-football Coach wanting him to toss the baseball, having the empathy and intuition of Saint-like females to know the boy could spin the laced heat of a baseball, possibly.  And after the wiry Irish kid cranked it out, though not well targeted, the speed was in the mid to upper 80's.  The Coach with:  "I knew your arm had something."
    Further testing aimed Lance at the Minor Leagues or Junior College teams around Pennsylvania--Scranton had plenty, but if he was going to travel, he wanted to have cowboy romance with the road, and horseback it Westwards.
   Plus, knew that Siria had guarded her virginity, and him as well; thus, wasn't marriage perfect, he figured.  But before breaking the news that he had an unseen potential, the boy prayed by way of invoking Saint Patrick, having a funny feeling about the Saint morphing a once royal soul into a wolf, or so Catholicism and canines go, very bizarre, but truly dogmatic and traditional.
   And it was like he knew Siria would say "yes" and that Mom, in charge of his ghostly father's greenbacks, would assist him with a humble ring, to show the seed starts small, and if not scattered in thorns; next, it grows on fields that trump those Elysian fantasies, Christ being so true, as He actually walked upon Terra's terrain.