It occurred to Rock shortly after he awoke that he had just dreamed the classic sportswriter's nightmare: A game was over. He was there to cover it for a newspaper, but did not know what happened. He didn't even know which team won. He was not aware of the result of a single play but would have to write and turn in a story about the game within an hour.
Rock wasn't sure where he was, though he thought he might have seen the stadium about twenty years earlier. Perhaps he was in Alma, or Van Buren. This was bad.
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