As he walked toward the edge of the woods, he tripped over a tractor tire embedded in the dirt. He looked down and saw a baseball half covered by the tire. He wiggled it out of the dirt. The ball was old and worn with its seams torn, but Billy felt a strange attraction to it, like it had a personality. Like it had a story to it. He couldn’t explain the feeling, but he decided this old ball was going home with him. He looked at it. “I’m going to call you ‘Buddy,’” he declared.