They’re more coveted than a Hamptons address, more treasured than a priceless work of art, more valuable than diamonds. The mere thought of parting with one of them triggers pangs of panic. They are baseball prospects.
Never in the illustrious history of professional baseball has the prospect, the bus-riding, barely-shaving, twenty-something minor leaguer, enjoyed the exalted status it does now. Baseball practically worships at the cleats of the callow and unproven.