I rise with the sun every morning, beginning my hunt for food. The city comes alive soon after, filled with people rushing to work. No one has time to appreciate the beautiful day it is. I call Homewood North my home and sleep on the same window seal every night. I love my home. I know the old man who lives in the apartment so I feel safe. He has lived here for as long as I have. As I fly around my town, a woman in a hurry drops her muffin without even realizing it. I stand on the sidewalk picking away at it, avoiding the giant feet stomping around me. It is fall, and the leaves are starting to drop. I fly away through the chilly air to my normal spot on the river. 

The old man sits on the edge of the fountain in Point State park. He is also here every morning that there is a Pirates game. A superstition of sorts. His old, worn out Pirates hat sits on his head. Whether they are home or away, the old man gets on the bus and heads into the city. Looking over across the water, he has the most perfect view of three rivers stadium, home of the Pittsburgh Pirates. Today, October 13th, 1971, the Pirates will host the first ever night game to be played in the World Series. 

Next to the old man sits a small boy. His feet swing under him because he is too short for the bench. Pieces of the crackers he is eating fall to the ground so I get closer to them. The old man reads the newspaper aloud to the boy. He is explaining to him that Roberto Clemente is the best baseball player in the MLB. The old man continues to read a section about how the Pirates could win the World Series just like they did back in 1960 with Roberto Clemente! It does not say it in the newspaper, but the old man tells the little boy that Clemente was the first man from Puerto Rico to win a World Series. The little boy lit up. 

“I am from Puerto Rico, pop!”

“Yes. Yes you are'' said the old man giving the little boy a wink. He takes off his old Pirates hat and looks at it. “This hat was the first thing that I spent my money on when I moved here from Puerto Rico. It is older than you!” The little boy giggles and tries to grab it. However, the old man pulls it away and puts it back on his head. 

With that and a big smile on both of their faces, the old man and little boy get up from their spot by the fountain, take one more look at three rivers stadium, and take off back home for the big game. 

I fly behind them until they get to the bus stop. Once they are gone, I make my way towards the game. In the distance, I see Three Rivers Stadium glowing. Already lit up, ready for the sun to go down. As I get to the top of the stadium, I look down to the diamond. The teams are warming up, so I wait patiently.. 

As the sun falls behind the hills, the stadium is shining like the sun. Fans begin to pour in as the game starts. I soar down to find some dropped peanuts. I find a nice spot up by one of the big lights. I see Roberto Clemente, the greatest baseball player in the History of the World! At least, according to the old man. Currently tied 2-2 in games with the Baltimore Oilers, the team needs this to get ahead. 

Ending the game with the 4-0 run lead, the Pirates find themselves the champions of the night. Excited with the win, the crowd yells and cheers, dropping a lot of food everywhere. As the stadium begins to empty and shut down, I find myself feasting on the remains of the peoples food. It is a goodnight to be a Pittsburgher. 

The following morning, I fly back home to Homewood North. I spent the night in the stadium because it was very late and I ate a lot of food. When I get back, I see the little boy head outside with his baseball glove. I decide to follow him to a nearby field. A bunch of kids are there playing. He shyley walks up to them and asks to play. Being from Puerto Rico, the boy speaks spanish as his first language. He is still learning english and practices everyday with the old man. The boy walks up to the kids and tries to talk but nothing comes out. He has lost his voice in his fear of not being included. The kids stare, confused by his silence. The little boy’s face turns bright red. All he wants to do is play baseball but he can not find the words to ask. He does not want to mess up his english in front of the other kids because he thinks they will laugh. The little boy turns and begins to sprint home. He slams the door behind him and runs right into the old man's arms. He didn't even have to tell him what happened because it has happened before. “We will practice your english in the morning” says the old man. The little boy went to wash up and the old man sat in a chair looking sad.

The next game is a bummer for the Pirates. They fell 1 run short of the Baltimore Oilers, losing 2-3. Tied 3-3 in games, Today will determine it all. The World Series Final game is in only a couple of hours. Someone will be named the winner and be the National Champions. The game is not home so I will watch from the old man’s window seal. It is still early so I go to the Point and find the old man. There he is again sitting with the Little boy. I fly close by and the little boy throws me a cracker. The old man lightly hits his arm and tells him not to do that. “You need that food boy. Don't give your snacks to the damn birds.” He's right but of course, I pick at it anyways. They continue to talk about baseball. However the boy doesn't seem to be as excited about tonight's game like he normally is. Sensing his angst, the old man explains to him that when he was a boy, he had to learn to speak english too. “When I was in school back in Puerto Rico, I was learning English and it was the hardest thing for me. I could not get a hang of it but I kept on practicing. You will get it and things will be much easier for you. But you have to promise me that you will never forget spanish, because that is who you are.”

The little boy grins and hops off the bench. The old man follows and they walk to the bus. When they make it back to Homewood, they rush into the apartment and turn on the tv. It is game time. I make myself comfortable on the Window seal. That was the fastest I had ever flown back to their apartment. We all made it back just in time for the first pitch. 

“And the Pittsburgh Pirates are your 1971st World Series Champions!” yells the television. 

The old man jumps up faster than I have ever seen him move in his life. He picks up the little boy and gives him a hug. Roberto Clemente has done it again. He puts the boy down and says, “You know when Roberto Clemente first joined the Pittsburgh Pirates, he was still learning english.” The old man takes off his Pirates hat, and puts it on the little boys head. The little boy smiles bigger than ever before. Motivated by the big win, he opens the door and heads to the field. I've been outside the whole time and not until he came out, did I notice how beautiful of a day it was. The leaves are falling everywhere; red, yellow and orange. The setting sun is making the trees and leaves glow, but nothing was glowing brighter than the little boy's face. He runs to the baseball field and I follow. He walks right up to the boys and said, “Can I play?” The boys, shocked by his confidence, look around at each other. One of them steps forward and says, “we could use another outfielder.” He throws the little boy a ball and they start the game.