Here's my Albert Pujols story: We used to visit with my in-laws for spring break in Jupiter, Florida and in 2005 we all (my wife, her folks, and our two kids) went to dinner at River House, a delicious old-style steak and seafood place right on the water (it's now closed, unfortunately).
We were seated near the entrance, and I had my back to the door. We were eating our salads (that place had great salad bar, I really do miss it, but I digress) when all of a sudden my wife's eyes go wide and her mouth drops open slightly. Nearly to herself, she mutters: "My god, he's GOT to be somebody..." My 13-year-old son's head spins around and he blurts: "Mom, that's Albert Pujols!!" And he really did look like a Greek god then, silk shirt with gold chains, bronze skin glowing and shaved head shining.
It was a thrill for all of us, especially my wife, but to be honest I felt pretty inadequate the rest of the evening.
|