He's sitting in the middle of his living room in a tub of ice water, watching his most recent game. The commentator drones on about how he's made so many strikes, and about how exhausted he looks. They weren't wrong, because in front of you now, in the blue glow of the TV, he looks about five seconds away from a coma.

He'd been so wrapped up in watching himself get into a fight with that Swallows catcher that he didn't even notice you walk in.

He holds a can of coconut water to his face and then promptly winces. For a guy who seemed fairly confident in that fight, he sure doesn't have a single idea on how to patch himself up.