Manish Jain

You don't have to know anything about me, but you see the logo on my head and you understand the stakes of what we're all dealing with right now.

And honestly, I don't think there's anything else in my life, at least, that instantly connects me to a stranger more than baseball, especially in October.

Are you kidding me?

That's the dream.

That's where the big leaguers get to stand.

You know, I wasn't lucky enough to run the bases like Ian did when I was 10, but I was lucky enough to get a free bat at bat day, a little mini bat from Old Tiger Stadium.

And I would stand in my backyard narrating to nobody in particular, it's game seven, the World Series.

The Detroit Tigers are down three to nothing.

Bottom of the ninth.

It's a full count.

Maneesh Jain dusts the dirt off his cleats and steps into the box.

Picked up a pebble, gingerly toss it in the air, and with one mighty swing, it's up there.

It's going.

It's over the fence.

The Detroit Tigers are your World Series champion.

And the city of Detroit is pouring into the streets.

Parade streamers are flying in the air.

We've done it.

And that feeling never goes away.

Baseball has the ability to turn an 80-year-old into a 10-year-old.