From the lowest dungeon of Oakland to the highest peak of the Ballpark at Arlington, I fought with the Bobrog of Abreuth.
Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the rock pile in center field.
Darkness took me and I strayed out of Scioscia's lineup.
Home runs wheeled overhead and every day was as long as a life age of the Earth.
But it was not the end.
I felt life in me again.
I've been sent back until my task is done.
Trout.
Trout?
Yes.
That was what they used to call me.
Trout the Bee.
That was my name.
Trout.
I am Trout the Angel.
And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide.