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Reply-To: dxf12@po.CWRU.Edu (Douglas Fowler)
From: dxf12@po.CWRU.Edu (Douglas Fowler)
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
Subject: Re: Star Trek story archive (weekly FAQ -- automated posting)
Date: Sun, 5 Dec 93 08:08:13 -0500



     This started as a parody, but looking over it I thought it would make
a neat episode, too; it's no worse than the one where Q has Picard playing
RObin Hood, that's for sure.
     Anyway, I hope all baseball fans enjoy this one.
_____________________________________________________
            Star Trek: The Next Generation
                     The New York Yank-Qs

     (Captain's log, stardate, around 90 days till spring training.  We were
on Earth for a minor refitting of the ship.  Lieutennant Worf and Commander
Riker were touring the baseball Hall of Fame with Worf's son Alexander,
who had studied the sport considerably and wants to be a ball player.  He
is about 9 now, and we have considered leaving him with Earth parents
and letting him play some Little League. )

     (Scene:  A gallery with many plaques around of famous ballplayers.)
Worf:  Okay, let me see if I have this straight, Alexamder.  A strike is when
the ball is over home plate and between the letters and the knees.  3 strikes
and the batter is out, 3 outs to a half inning.  Each team bats once per
inning, with the home team last.

Alexander:  Right.

RIker:  You learn fast, Worf.  Who is your favorite player, Alexander?

Alexander:  I like Jackie Robinson best. (To Worf): He's like you, father;
you were the first Klingon in Starfleet, he was the first black in the
segregated majors.  The whites fought hard to keep segregation, and only
after 400 years do we finally have a fair number of the Negro League
players - about 90 from the leagues formed so the best blacks could play
as well - in the Hall.  Indded, some, like catcherJosh Gibson, are considered
among the best ever at their positions.  And, I'm sure you had to fight a lot
of bigotry, just like Robinson did, after the Federation warred with Klingons
for so long.

Worf:  I wish you studied Klingon history as well as you know baseball.

Riker:  I think you'll understand better when you see a game.  The majors
leagues have been back for 300 years or so, after a bunch of strikes and
the multiple wars, starting with the Eugenics wars around 2000.  They kept
the same rules from the late 1800s.  Even got rid of the designated hitter,
who batted in the pitcher's spot, didn't they?

Alexander(sadly):  Yeah, but the Dodgers still aren't back in Brooklyn, where
the owner hijacked them for more profits to Los Angeles.  Now, they're with
the Giants in Florida, where both moved following the Eugenics wars,
because a big earthquake had struck California.

Worf(puzzled):  Well, maybe you can move them back someday.

Alexander:  What I'd like most is to see a game with all the great
players who ever played.

Q(appearing from nowhere):  Why not, that might be fun. (Waves hand in
strange motion..  All vanish.)
_____________________________
     (Scene 1:  Captain Picard and the rest of the main cast have appeared
with Q, Riker, Worf, and Alexander on a large field, with dirt in a diamond
shape with a mound in the middle and 3 square bags and one pentagon -
home plate - at the edges.  The crew has exchanged their Starfleet
uniforms for white uniforms with royal blue script saying: "Dodgers.")

Riker:  Not again!

Captain Picard:  Q!  What are you doing now!?!

Q:  Hey, stop treating me like a naughty child, Jean-Luc.

Riker:  Why not, that's usually what you are.  You use your superhuman
powers just to bug us.

Q:  I just want to have fun.  Why, I'm fascinated by you humans.  How
many times have I interfered in human affairs, anyway?

Picard:  Shall I count them or relate them as well?

Q:  Oh, stop quibbling.  Sheesh, you look a little like him but you sound
even more like Leo Durocher!  I'd swear you were him if you weren't bald.

Picard:  Who?

Alexander:  Leo Durocher was manager of several teams, including the
Brooklyn Dodgers, whose uniforms we have on, in baseball in the 20th
century.  He was known as "Leo the Lip" for constantly arguing with
umpires.

Picard:  What has that got to do with anything?

Q:  Well, I just happened to be looking in and noticed the boy here loved
baseball.  I'm quite a fan, too - like him, I never forgave the Dodgers for
leaving the neighborhood of Brooklyn for the big city of L.A.  That's why
I thought I'd bring you all here.  He wants to see baseball heroes, I'll
give him some, and you can play them in a World Series.

RiKer:  We have a job to do!  We have a ship to prepare.

Q:  Oh, it'll be over in a hurry.  I can't help it - I'm a Dodger fan.  Kind
of neat - in the 1980s, Dodger manager Tommy Lasorda liked to say: "God
is a Dodger fan."  I'm not God, but I'm almost as powerful.
     Don't worry, the players won't have superhuman skills or anything.  I'll
give you home field for the 7-game series, too.
(Waves hand again, and numerous players appear from nowhere to run
into a dugout.  They have on gray uniforms that say "New York" in navy
lettering.  There is one tier of stands, with about all 30,000 seats
filled.  It surrounds the field, including the outfield except beyond right
field, which is open.  There are yellow "foul poles" above the walls in left
and right - a ball hit between them or betweenthe foul lines reaching from
home plate to them is fair and allows the runners to advance to the next
base or further.  A foul ball means no play, unless a fielder catches it on
the fly, in which case the batter is out.)
(Q and Alexander go off to sit in the seats behind the 1st base dugout;
walking down the steps into the dugout, Picard and company find bats,
balls, etc.)

Q:  (To a stunned Picard):  Go ahead, they don't bite!  Pick the gloves up and
take the field!

Picard:  Can't we do this some other time...

Q:  And against our arch-rivals, the Yankees.  In Brooklyn's Ebbets Field.  I
love it! (To Alexander): Pretend you're broadcasting; you won't play forever.
You can do it after you retire.
(Yelling out to Picard):  You might want to start Data and have him rested
for games 4 and 7!

Ty Cobb(walking up to the batters box, yelling to Q):  We'll sweep 'em,
so he just has to worry about game 4!

Picard:  Well...Mr. Data, I think you should pitch.  O'Brien, you catch...

Q:  Wait, his name's Miles?  Gotta give him a Chris Berman nickname,
Alexander. (The boy looks puzzled): Make a pun out his name.

Alexander:  Oh, like "Miles 'to go before I sleep' O'Brien."

Q:  Great, hey, you're quoting Frost.  That's very good, although you should watch you don't make too many bad puns or you'll sound like Tim McCarver.
(To Picard): What's the rest of the lineup?

Picard:  Troi will play first, Riker second, Wesley shortstop, between the
2nd and 3rd baseman, Barclay third, Beverley in left, Geordi in center field,
and Worf in right field.  I'll be on the bench with Ro and anyone else I've
forgotten.
     When we bat, it'll be this order:  Wesley, who's fast and can steal bases
by running even though the batter misses the ball or doesn't swing at it,
then Geordi, Data, Worf, O'Brien, Riker, Barclay, Crusher, and Troi.
(sarcastic): That sound reasonable, Q?

Q:  You're the manager.

(Cobb bunts by tapping the ball slowly to third.  Barclay grabs the ball
and throws towards first, but it's 20 feet over everyone's heads and lands
halfway up the stands.  Data pitches out of the trouble, but a run scores.)

Barclay(in the dugout, to Picard):  Sorry, sir, I guess I'm a little scared of
this; the ball comes at you so quickly.

Troi:  Perhaps I can help.  What's the first thing you think of when the batter
is at home plate?

Barclay:  Don't hit it to me.

Troi:  Well, maybe you can concentrate on the second thing.  What is that?

Barclay:  Don't hit it to Commander Riker, either.

Alexander:  That's great!  Just like Guererro said when they moved the
all-star outfielder to third base, and Steve Sax was having troubles at
second!

Q:  You learn fast. (Uses New York accent):  Come on, ya bums!

Picard:  Don't call us that!  We're much better than 400 years ago...

Q:  Oh, but the Brooklyn Dodgers are the epitomy of humanity.  Fans who
criticize a lot, but still love the team.  Players who find a way to mess up.

Riker(after Wesley walks when the pitcher throws 4 balls that aren't
strikes and Geordi gets a hit to put runners on 1st and second base):  We
won't mess up!

Q(waving his hand):  We'll see. (Data, an android, hits a high fly to deep
center, but WIllie Mays is chasing it.  Wesley stays near 2nd in case the ball
is caught. He runs around 3rd, but sees the strong throw to home plate, so
he goes back to 3rd base.  Geordi slides into 3rd after rounding 2nd and
seeing the throw go home.  Data uses his android speed to run to 3rd.  Since
only one runner can occupy a base at a time, Mike Schmidt takes the ball and
tags everyone, including Data because he got to 3rd but then overran it,
for a triple play to end the inning.  Q is laughing hysterically while
clapping!)
Q:  Bravo!!  Bravo!!  I love it!!  Oh, your men are *too much*, Picard.

Picard:  Stop making monkeys of my men this instant!!

Q:  Okay, one time you'll be able to get 3 men on base.

Alexander(with a silly grin): Which base?

Q(laughing hard again and giving the child a little squeeze):  Alexander, you
are the perfect Dodger fan.
--------------------------------------
     Captain's log:  We lost the first game, 1-0, when Jackie Robinson made
a great leap to rob Riker of a hit with 2 out and 2 runners on.  No doubt
we would have won if he hadn't caught it, but Q may have allowed it to
appease Alexander; Robinson is the boy's favorite player.
     We still have no clue why Q is doing this, but I've come to like this game;
Lieutennant Worf is hoping to pitch a masterpiece here so perhaps he can
become his son's favorite player.

Worf(staring in at Ty Cobb with a glare that could melt lead): Grrrrr!

Cobb:  You don't scare me, <expletives and insults deleted>.

Worf(winding up to throw):  Oh, yeah?

     (Worf throws a pitch at Cobb's chin.  Before the ump can warn both
benches about not throwing such pitches, Cobb runs out to pummel Worf.
For a change, Worf wins a fight, though it turns nasty.  The nastiness results
from the fact that some on the Greats team don't like Cobb himself, so they
join Picard's team for the scuffle.
     Generally, these things are just wars of words, but Cobb and Rogers
Hornsby are beaten up so that they have to leave the game. Joe Morgan
and Hank Aaron replace them on the team.  Geordi's visor is broken, so Data
moves to center, and Ro moves to right.  Guinan and Barclay are slightly
injured on the "Dodgers," so Riker moves to play 3rd base, and Kieko moves
in to play 2nd.  A sign is held up so Barclay, who made 2 errors last game,
can read - it says:  "HANDS OF bar-CLAY")

Q:  There, see, I told you I didn't give these people superhuman skills.
These guys will wake up tomorrow and think this is all a dream.  Though
I hate brawls in general, I think Worf woke your team up.

Dr. Crusher(on the mound with Worf and Picard): Can you still pitch?

Worf:  I bruised some knuckles, but I'm okay for a few innings.  Besides,
if I don't, you may have to.

Picard:  Q!  Give Geordi a chance to get a spare prosthesus!

Q(condescending):  Sorry, but he could have been knocked out for all you know.  Pretend it's a concussion; he'll be back tomorrow.
     (Scene shifts to the ninth.  Two runners are on base, Worf is still
battling, though he's thrown a high number of pitches - 147 - and the
sweat is pouring off him.  The score is 8-5.  DiMaggio is up, and hits
a long ball to right field after Worf grunts hard on the pitch.)

Alexander:  DiMaggio hits a long fly ball, Ro is rushing towards the wall.
Back, back, back, back, back, and sheeeeee makes a stupendous catch!!!
Dodgers win!  Dodgers win! (Jumps up and down with the other fans.)

Q:  Beautiful.  1947 all over again.  Sixth game then, I believe.
----------------------------
     Captain's log, supplemental.  I hadn't planned on using Ro that much, so
I was intrigued to learn that the player who made a similar catch in 1947
never played again in the majors.  I am still at a loss to figure out what is
going on, but it seems that Q is simply letting us play like normal.  No doubt
Worf and Data combining for seven runs batted in - their hits accounted
for 7 of 8 runs scoring - helped a lot in that win.
     Q was miffed when I told him Commander RIker would be pitching.

Q:  Jean-Luc, I don't know how to put this, but...Riker has been slow at
2nd base, you will admit.

Picard:  Our defense may pick up, with Data at second and Worf back in
right, but I feel he can get people out.  Why?

Q:  Jean-Luc, the man is...Are you familiar with David Letterman?

Data:  He was a TV comedian of the 20th century on Earth.

Picard(angrily):  Get to the point!  What about him?

Q:  Riker reminds me of another pitcher - Terry Forster.  Jean-Luc, he
gained fame because Letterman once called him a "fat tub of goo."  That
is what your pitcher reminds me of - a fat tub of goo.

Picard:  He got people out, though, right?  Didn't he pitch in the bigs?

Q:  Forster pitched as a reliever, yes, but...

     (The scene shifts to Yankee Stadium.  The Dodger uniforms are now
light gray with the royal blue, while the other team has pinstripes.  There
are 3 tiers of stands all around the field.  The Yankees lead 11-0, as Walter
Johnson has a shutout, and Riker is laboring.  There are no outs in the bottom
of the eighth.)
Alexander(tiredly): When will this game end?

Q:  They have to keep batting till 3 are out, remember?

Alexander(thinking a minute):  You mean they can keep batting forever and
ever?  Gee, that would be neat!  I'd like to see that!

Worf(from right field):  Alexander, no - you don't know what he's capable of!

Q:  Granted. (Waves his hand.  Three straight home runs - balls hit over the
fence so the batter can slowly round the bases - are hit, and Riker is taken
out.  Ro goes to play center, and Geordi comes in to pitch.  He gives up
several hits, a batter is out on a long fly ball to right field, and eight more
runners reach base.  Picard goes out to relieve him.)

Geordi:  But Commander, I got this guy out last time I faced him.

Picard:  That was in the same *inning*!  This is between Q and me; I'll
not let my crew get sore arms!
     (16 more runs score - it's 38-0, Yankees, and Worf comes to the mound.)

Worf:  Sir, if I may...

Picard:  You have to pitch game 5.

Worf:  I mean my son.  I've tried to discipline him through logical
consequences; this is a prime example of when to use them.  He said he
wanted to see all those runs, let him pitch.

Alexander:  Oh, boy, can I Dad?  Can I?

Worf:  Oh, boy.

Alexander:  I want to pitch to *every* Hall-of-Famer.

Worf:  Alexander, this is supposed to be *punishment*!!!  Do you want to
have to stand in the corner again instead?

Q(waving his hand):  Oh, pipe down, you lousy excuse for a Federation officer.
Let the boy have some fun.

Worf:  I refuse to let this be encouraged!

Q:  So, scold him a bit.  He'll know for next time.  I'll make sure of it.
     (The Yankees bat around even more, as Alexander lobs balls up to
almost 1,000 players.  He almost has tears in his eyes as the 1,000th
run scores on Cal Ripken XII's home run.  The final out is made as
Commissioner Kenesaw Landis bats as a 70-year-old judge and strikes
out.  Score after 8 - 1000-0.)
Q:  There they are.  Good luck in the 9th; see you next game. (vanishes)

Picard:  Q, wait a minute! (sighs heavily.)

Alexander(running to his dad):  I'm sorry, I won't ever tempt him like that
again!

Worf(very tired, as they all are having chased so many balls around, hugging
him):  It's okay, I love you.  I shouldn't have been so mad; I didn't want you
pitching that long!

Alexander(whining):  It was fun.  I just didn't want them to all get *hits*!
--------------------------
     (Captain's log, supplemental.  After that debaucle, Alexander had
gotten a hit to lead off the ninth, so he did redeem himself somewhat,
though his earned run average, which is:  (earned runs times 9) divided by
innings pitched, or (962 x 9)/two-thirds (2/3 meaning 2 of the 3 outs
recorded in the inning), is truly "where noone has gone before," at
12987.00!  The good pitchers are under 3.00 in e.r.a.!
     Commander Data won the 4th game, 3-2.  The defense was a little
better, and Wesley stole home by running even though the batter didn't
hit the ball - Alexander informs me Jackie Robinson did the same thing in
the '53 World Series to win a game.  The fact that the powerful Worf was at
the plate meant that this was a special act of courage.  Worf has 3 home
runs in the Series - those are balls hit fair into the stands.  Commander
Data has hit 2.
     In game 5, O'Brien hit a 2-run homer off starter Satchel Paige, who'd won
the first game in a shutout, to tie the score at 3 in the bottom of the ninth.
We exchanged runs in the 10th, when Geordi came in to pitch for Ro, who had
relieved Worf.  We took a 5-4 lead going into the bottom of the 12th.  Keiko
had pinch-hit and drawn a key walk, so Riker came in, and got into some
trouble, putting a runner on with no outs.)
Data:  Commander, I wish to pitch.

Picard:  Denied, we need you and Worf for games 6 and 7.

Data:  Very well, sir; may I go to the bullpen to help the other reliviers?

Picard:  "Others"?  We have O'Brien, who can replace Riker with Riker going
to catcher, but we have very few others.  You pitched hard yesterday.
Besides, once a player is removed from a game he cannot re-enter later.

Data:  I know, sir, but I am capable of throwing to a batter or two without
wearing my circuits down too much.  Let me come in from right field.

Picard:  Oh, I'll think about it.(Several moments later - O'Brien is broughtin, and gets an out, but walks a man to load the bases.  Data walks to the
mound and addresses Picard in the dugout; he has been limbering up his
arm and tossing things back and forth into the stands.)
Data:  Sir, I am ready.

Picard:  For what?!?

Data:  To pitch, sir.  Hurl.  Throw.  Toss.

Alexander(from the stands):  Orel Hershiser did it in '88 with no rest.

Picard(going out to the mound):  I'm probably a fool for doing this; go to
right field, O'Brien.
------------------------------------
     (Captain's log, supplemental:  Data got the batter to hit the ball to the
second baseman for an out to win, but Cy Young tossed a perfect game
against us to win game 6 2-0, as this and the final, 7th game would be back
in what was termed "Ebbets Field," where the first 2 games were played.
     Q constantly pestered us, and I am still amiss that he seems to be using
us just for fun.  I see no lesson in this for us at all.  He finally got fed up
with my tirades with several innings to go in the 6th game and left.
Alexander is now in the dugout, as 2 other people occupy the seats Q and
Alexander owned.  Though we seem to be stuck here in this fantasy of his,
I am somewhat glad he is gone.
     It is the 7th game, we are down 4-3 in the bottom of the ninth.  The
batters will be Riker, Barclay, Ro Laren, who replaced Dr. Crusher after
hitting a big home run in the 5th, and Troi.  Dr. Crusher had equalled
a dubious feat; Gil Hodges' 0-for-22 in the World Series.  This news is
courtesy of Alexander; who else?

Worf(holding head in hands):  I can't believe it; one mistake to Babe Ruth
and an easy, 2-0 win turns into a loss.

Picard:  Yes, Alexander was telling me that a 2-0 win is how the Dodgers
won the final game for their only World Championship in Brooklyn.  I wonder
what Q is up to - or even if he's paying attention.  This is ridiculous,
this spot he's put us in.

Riker(walking up to the plate as a new pitcher comes in):  Don't give up
hope; we got one back in the seventh.  You did the best you could, with
Data and O'Brien having pitched so much of the 6th game.  You had to go 9
innings.  If we get one here, you can move to right, and Geordi can throw
a few.

Dennis Eckersley(pitcher, receiving the ball from catcher Johnny Bench on
the mound):  It's a pleasure pitching to you.  Is this a dream or what?

Bench:  I guess; it sure is surreal.  1,000 runs in one game?  Screwiest
scoreboard I ever saw.  And, why am I a Yankee?

Eckersley:  I don't know; I'm in my first World Series tomorrow.  I wonder
if this is an omen; we play against the Dodgers.

Bench:  As long as it isn't against my Cincinnati Reds, good luck. (Goes back
behind home plate.)

Worf:  Well, I only need us to tie; I want to restore my family honor my
next time at bat.

Troi:  Klingon family honor depends on the victor in a sport?

Worf:  You don't understand; Earth baseball is similar to an ancient
Klingon game...

O'Brien:  The Russians used to say the same thing about everything
American - including baseball. (Riker strikes out swinging at a pitch.)

Worf: (testily) Well, maybe I am trying to exaggerate to reclaim some
pride.  Say, where is Alexander?

Guinan:  I don't know

Worf(angrily):  We are about to go down to defeat if we do not do something.

Alexander(tiredly, coming up a tunnel into the dugout wearing his cap inside
out):  Here I am, Dad.  i've been taking batting practice off a tee in the
tunnel leading to the locker room.

Worf(tiredly):  That's nice, son.  Someday maybe you can play in a place like
this.  Why are you wearing your hat in such a silly way?

Alexander:  It's called a "rally cap."

Worf:  It's not working. (Barclay walks back to the bench, having hit the
ball softly to shortstop.  The fielder threw to first for the out.  He
acknowledged the sign saying: "HANDS OF BarCLAY." once more.)

Barclay:  I guess that sign typifies my season.  Nine errors in one Series.

Picard:  None of us has hit too well, save for Data, Worf, and - at times -
Wesley.  This is getting bad.  Keiko, see if you can work a hit off this guy.
There must be something that Q wants us to do.

Keiko:  Aye, sir.

Picard:  And Alexander, turn your hat the right way.  I can't believe the
trickery some teams will try. (He complies, and he and Worf start cheering
loudly.  Keiko draws a walk when the pitcher can't throw the ball over the
plate.  The crowd really comes alive.)

Alexander:  Come on, I've been practicing so long; let me bat, please.

Worf:  It's getting well past your bedtime - why do they start these games
so late?

Alexander:  Pleeeeease!!!!!!

Picard(thinking out loud):  Oh, this is absurd.  Q gets us in this crazy
"World Series," we play a full 7 games for nothing.  I've come up with no
point to any of this - why not?  Grab a bat, Alexander! (The boy hurriedly
strides up to the plate.  The fans boo a little and cheer a little, not sure
what to make of it.  Eckersley glares in like usual.)

Cobb(sneering from the dugout and continuing what he had been doing
 - reciting "Casey at the Bat," to try to distract the opponent, since the
hero, Casey, went down to a bitter defeat by striking out in a similar
situation, leaving "no joy in Mudville."):  There was pride in this boy's
manner, a smile on this boy's face.  There was...

Alexander(Into the dugout):  Ahhh, your mother was a Ferengi!

Bench:  A who?

Alexander:  Skip it. (He takes strike one.)

Worf:  This pitcher's control is impeccable.

Alexander(yawning): Let's get this over with. (Takes a pitch for strike 2.)
     Alexander is up late, and Cobb sees that by saying the poem to make
sure the boy hears, he may be able to lull him to sleep, as if he were
telling a bedtime story, so he ups the crescendo

Cobb(sneering and snickering more than ever):  Oh somewhere in this
favored land the sun is shining bright. (The pitcher eyes the catcher's mitt
above the outside corner of the plate.  Alexander's eyes start to droop.)

Cobb:  And somewhere folks are merry, and somewhere hearts are light.
(The catcher sets - the pitcher winds up, as Alexander looks ready to
fall asleep.)

Cobb:  And somewhere men are cheering, and somewhere people shout...
(Alexander is awakened by a roar from the crowd, as they try to urge
him on - he swings mightily.)

Worf(loudly):  Swing!!
     (At once, bat meets ball, sending it high into the night sky.  Getting
a second wind, Alexander starts rounding the bases.)

Cobb(Jumping up to rush onto the field to celebrate, then stunned):  But
there is no joy in...    (notices the ball flying upward, and halts):  But I
don't like the looks of this - I think he just hit it out! (He stands with
mouth agape, as fans mob the field.)

Alexander(touching home plate, with Jackie Robinson behind, making
sure he touches all the bases, as he does):  I hit well, didn't I?

Worf(hugging him):  That was a great win!

Q(appearing next to Picard):  Well, I guess you're happy I left you alone
now, aren't you.

Picard(turning angrily):  Q!  If this was meant merely to show Alexander
his baseball skills, couldn't you have picked some other time to do it?!
Why have you made us part of such a ridiculous fantasy?

Q(waving his hand and instantly changing into an umpire's outfit):  There,
some mood clothing.  (To Picard):  Admit it, Jean-Luc, you're jealous.  You
wanted to hit that homer, didn't you.

Picard(throwing his cap on the ground and getting in Q's face like a coach
would to an umpire):  I would rather you leave us alone!  Totally!  I'm sick
and tired of putting up with you and your ridiculous playing around!

Q(Folding his hands speaking to Picard): Fine, be that way.
But I'll bet there's one kid who's grateful.  And he did it all by himself, too.
Admit it, Picard, I'm too smart for you.

Picard:  *You* are smarter than *I*?!  How can you make such a
lousy call? (Kicks a little dirt on Q's shoes.)

Q:  If I hadn't made you think this was so absurd and pointless - if I had
let you think you had to win - would you have let Alexander bat?

Picard:  I might have; I figured he was short enough to walk.

Q(waving hand):  Okay, then, you can return to your pitiful work.  Oh, and
Alexander should watch the news tomorrow.
------------------
     Captain's log, supplemental.  We're back on board the Enterprise, where
the crew has been discussing the strange recent events.  None was more
intriguing, though, than the news this day, when Alexander left us to
live in the New York area on Earth.

News broadcast(on video):  In a surprise sports move, the Dodgers and
Giants have ended 350 years away by moving back to their original,
traditional home, the city of New York.  The Dodgers are expected to use
the borough of Brooklyn, in the Flatbush area.  They will exchange places
with the New York Intrepids and New Jersey Warp."

Alexander:  Oh boy, I get to have a ball team in my own back yard!

Worf:  I've looked at the neighborhood; it's much better than the crime-
ridden second half of the 20th century.

Alexander:  It'll get even better now that there's a ball team there.

Data:  I fail to understand the logic in that statement.

Picard:  Mr. Data, he is a boy, just like billions before him who have loved
the game of baseball.  There doesn't have to be any logic to his thoughts.

Riker:  I wonder if that's really what Q wanted us to see - that we should
take some time from our busy schedules and have fun; that adulthood
doesn't have to be all work and no play.

Picard:  Quite true, Number One.  Perhaps I was a bit harsh on him - we're
only children for a couple decades, but we're adults for a couple centuries
nowadays.  We shouldn't have to wait for retirement at age 100 or so; there
are still too many things that can happen.  Life is still too short.  We have to
take time out to stop and smell the roses, and not work all the time.

Q(appearing out of nowhere, as usual):  Great, Jean-Luc, how about a
few rounds of golf on Altair 4.  I hear they've got some great courses.
     (Show ends with Picard glaring at Q.)

--
Doug Fowler: dxf12@po.CWRU.edu  Heaven is a great big hug that lasts forever
        "And when that One Great Scorer comes to mark against your name;
   He writes, not whether you've won or lost, but how you played the game"
                      --Grantland Rice

