By Monica Alonzo
By Stephen Lemons
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Dulce Paloma Baltazar Pedraza
By Ray Stern
By Pete Kotz
By Monica Alonzo
By New Times
Knuckles wove back to his seat, unsteady with a bat so huge that it stretched from his toes to his chin.
"I am so excited I will not sleep," declared Knuckles.
He was more thrilled than he'd ever been in his entire life. Everything about his world was now different, better.
"You know what you can call me?" he asked.
"Lucky!" he answered.
"I'm the luckiest kid here."
Indeed he was.
According to several members of the Colorado press, Walker is one of the sport's great guys. He's sweet, normal and down to earth, said a woman in the Rockies front office. It's no surprise that he keeps life in perspective, that he remembers that the game is about little boys' dreams. Walker, after all, grew up in a home with a sense of humor.
Credit his parents Larry and Mary, who named their children Gary, Cary, Barry and Larry.
After the game, Colin slept deeply, the new bat propped against his bed.
The next morning, he walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen with the giant Louisville slugger upon his thin shoulder. He had a new outlook on life.
He lugged the bat to school to show his classmates and teachers.
Of course everyone called him by his new name, "Lucky."
He insisted on it.
Jerry Colangelo has created the possibility for so many of these moments for all of our children. Instead of counting his enemies upon his fingers, he should count his Knuckles.
The despised sales tax has expired. Those of you who are still livid over the levy might want to take a kid to the ballpark. The hometown heroes are off to a shaky start. Instead of brooding, you can teach your child to root for baseball's biggest underdog.
As for Colin, he's no longer called Knuckles. In honor of his special bond with Larry Walker, he now answers to . . . Harry.
(Just kidding, Lucky!)