Mark struck me out 4 times in a game when I was a freshman in high school. He was pitching for Algonquin. We wound up beating him 1-0 on a homer by our pitcher. That year was the end of my baseball career as I sprouted 4 inches and confirmed that they didn't throw curveballs in basketball.
I ran into Mark a few times over the years. He fancied himself a pool player. He wasn't. He financed a few Saturday nights out drinking on money I won from him.
He was not a close friend but I knew him well enough to know he was a really nice guy (if more than a bit of a goof).
Why he wound up working on city dump trucks/snow-plows for a buck is beyond me. That is a heck of a way to die.
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