Almost six years have passed since that June day, and my dam of promise has fissured. A void now exists where my future slowly seeped out, and my baseball life is marred with disappointment.
. . .
For all my 28 years I've loved this game. It's defined my life, but it's time to move on. The sheen of my career is gone, and I love my wife too much. And that's the reason I'm not Crash Davis.
Thanks for the memories, Brosh. And we look forward to continuing to follow your promising career as a writer.