Introduction:

Meet 12 year old Matt Connors Boy Investigator, or so he fancies himself to be. Winsome, with the softest cornsilk blonde hair that ever set on top of the human head and dancing diamond blue eyes, Matt Connors was indeed the spitting image of the "boy next door" to everyone that knew him. Wearing bluejeans, a wide variety of colorful tee shirts, most of which displayed animals, usually wolves or dogs, the Saint Bernard being his most favorite breed of all canines, Matt Connors one major fashion flaw, to some people, was his constant penchant to always run around barefooted, except of course, when he was forced to have to wear shoes like to school or something, but even then, they more times than not were kicked off as quickly as they could possibly be removed.

(NOTE):

I am going to write this story one little piece at a time over a span of time and our darling towheaded little youngster Matt Connors is subject to experiencing just exactly what I am feeling that day...the good, the bad, and all the other emotions life can present and throw at him. So, where this story goes, the twists and turns it may take, and the end result are all up in the air.

(NOTE):

If you, the reader would like to contribute possible scenarios for Matt Connors to experience send them to me..he very well may.

Case One: Matt Connors and the HeeBee JeeBees

Matt Connors sat excitedly on the dugout bench. He knew all he had to do was have one more crack at bat and his mighty unheralded Little League baseball team from the dot on a state road map known as Blue Lake would win the championship. After all, the boy was the very best player on not only his team, but, on the field that day.

Matt Connors watched as his teammate Nathaniel Browne, their third baseman, and a school acquaintance of his, struck out on three pitches wildly chasing a fastball from the opposing pitcher that was a mile over his head.

Slowly, Matt Connors grabbed his Louisville Slugger and waited by the side of the fence that stood in front of their dugout at Cofflin Field. With one out in the bottom of the last inning Tommy Johnson, perhaps the team's lightest hitter, was up to bat. Tommy Johnson softly lined the first pitch he saw right into the glove of the first baseman and Matt Connors confidently strode up to the plate with a sly little grin on his sun tanned face.

As his name was announced to a round of cheers Matt Connors waved over to his father, who was the team's manager, and mouthed the words "We Win!"

The pitcher's first curve ball sailed outside the plate and Matt Connors watched it go by, stepped out of the batter's box, took a couple hard practice swings with his bat, settled himself back up to the plate in a very comfortable stance, and smacked the pitcher's next offering, a fastball Matt Connors had anticipated him to throw, solidly in the gap between the center fielder and the right fielder and was off to the races. He easily rounded first base and then second base. A quick glance over his shoulder to locate where the baseball was and he was off to third base.

Matt Connors heard the local hometown crowd cheering wildly and knew where victory was found. He cut his tag around third base sharply and dashed for home. He saw his father on the other side of home plate throw down a slide sign and he hit the dirt sliding face down across home plate as the catcher applied the tag solidly to the seat of his white pants.

Matt Connors had once again delivered in the clutch and the wild celebration from the town of Blue Lake, who all of its citizens had turned out for this once in a lifetime event, began with Matt Connors leaping up off the ground into his father's outstretched waiting arms and the boy felt real good. The smallest player on the team was once again the proven star, but, for Matt Connors the moment was only a fleeting one. He had something else pressing on his young mind. Something that definitely did not include baseball.