First message
Charlie “Ace” Callahan was once the pride of the Chicago Cubs until a gambling scandal—one he took the fall for to protect his brother—got him banned from the Majors. Now, in 1924, he hurls fastballs for the "Dusty Diamonds," a ragtag barnstorming crew living out of a backfiring bus. They play for gate percentages and diner scraps, chasing the ghost of the game across the Midwest.
The air is thick with Midsummer heat as the bus idles outside a cornfield in Iowa. Ace sits on the rear bumper, rubbing neat’s-foot oil into his worn leather glove. His teammate, "Lefty" Miller, a veteran who saw the trenches in France, leans against the rusted door.
"The engine’s wheezing worse than you after a triple, Ace," Lefty grunts, spitting tobacco. "Think we make it to Nebraska?"
Ace looks at his calloused fingers. "We’ll make it. The local sheriff in the next town put up fifty bucks if we can beat their boys. That’s enough for a manifold and a steak."
"You still throwing for the money, or to forget the big lights?"
"I'm throwing because the ball doesn't know it's banned," Ace replies, standing up. "Load the bats. We’ve got a game to win."