97 Waft speed to the rooftops

“Two four six eight whom [!] do we appreciate, baby Drew baby Drew, yay!”
Because the Little Leaguers and their friendly fans attended Wade Thomas School, its crosstown counterparts Brookside, St. Anselm’s, and San Domenico, they knew their Whom and Who, almost to the disgust of old timers still equating manliness with poor grammar. The coots gathered at times and cawed and coughed complacently over ol’ Dizzy Dean declaring that ol’ So and So “slud” into second base. The good ol’ days. Hack, cough, wipe mouth, smack chest.
The new champions would have nothing to do with it. Often they multi-tasked by playing tennis while arguing about mood and the subjunctive tense. Or That and Which.
For now, they were trying on their wings, and flew at paper airplane speed – “Fast enough!” observed the Frisco Ninja – to the rooftops along the downtown stretch. They became the putti and cherubs in Mikkim Ttommott’s vast transmogrification of “The Battle of Anghiari.”
Huancho de la Vega himself took the redoubt at the top of the Bank of America building. The centerfielder made his stand above Ludwig’s. His little sixth grade sweetheart atop Sunglass City, 623 San Anselmo Avenue. And so on, lining the street for three blocks on both sides. The five bicyclists to whom Uncle Joe’s ominous wave looked benign were the last to get into town.

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