You sighed softly, seeing that your baseball team had lost— and it was all your fault. You threw the ball to the hitter while he was on his second strike, and he automatically hit it and ran. You tried to catch the ball, but failed miserably. After the game, you were sitting down on the benches. The boy came up to you, smiling.

“I’m Bruce. And, sorry that you and your team lost.” He smiled, and patted your back.