and now Sam is dying. Moe visits him every day.
"Sam," says Moe one day, "You know how we have both loved baseball
all our lives." Sam nods.
"Sam, you have to do me a favour. When you get to Heaven, you've got
to let me know if baseball is played there."
Sam looks up at Moe from his death bed, and says, "Moe, you've been
my best friend all these years. This favour, if it is at all
possible, I'll do for you." Shortly after that, Sam breathes his last.
It is midnight a couple of nights later. Moe is awakened by a
blinding flash of white light and a voice calls out to him, "Moe....
Moe...."
"Who is it?" says Moe, terrified and clutching the blankets.
"Moe, it's me, Sam."
"Sam? Is that really you? Where are you?" Moe sits up, feeling much
better.
"I'm in Heaven," says Sam, "I've got some good news and a
little bad news."
"So, tell me the good news first."
"The good news is that there is baseball in Heaven," says Sam, "All
of our old buddies are here. We're all young men again. And best of
all, we can play baseball all we want, and we never get tired!"
"Really?" says Moe, "That is wonderful, Sam! But... what's the
bad news?"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"You're pitching Tuesday."
