Kohn had played on an intramural team in college. He had been the second-worst player on a team that finished in ninth place out of twelve. Bengt looked a little surprised. "What position?" "Outfield." Kohn had a sudden craving for the broad skewed vista from far right, the distant buzz of chatter from the bench, the outfielder's blank bovine consciousness of grass and sky. If you backed up far enough out there on a hot summer day you could sometimes see the curvature of the earth. "Mostly left.
( Michael Chabon )
[ Werewolves in Their Youth ]
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