At a baseball game you're hit by the ball as it flies into the stands. The batter himself visits you in hospital as you recover from your concussion, asking if there's anything he can do for you. Half-dazed you stammer something about a date and he smiles, saying yes. You think he isn't serious. A month later, you open your door for a knock and there he is, flowers in hand, smiling sheepishly. "Hey. Free tonight?"