
For no particular reason at all, you begin to walk. You walk to the end of the road. When you get there, you keep going to the end of town. You walk and walk and walk. Sometimes people recognize you and wave, sometimes they don't. It's all the same to you.
As you walk and walk and walk, people begin to follow you. The real crowd picks up in D.C., as you pass through on Inauguration Day. You're not sure what to make of these people. They just walk with you. Every once in a while someone tries to talk, but you never respond and eventually they get the hint.
After a while, you get bored of just walking, and stop from time to time. You help a girl get her cat out of a tree in Kansas. You spend a short amount of time fighting crime in a tight-fitting spandex uniform while the papers scream about the "Bat Man." On another pass across the country, you play detective and solve a murder in Nashville. Just for the heck of it, you stop in a random library in what you are almost certain is Nevada and just read a book to a bunch of kids. They're disappointed when it's not about baseball.
One day in Western Pennsylvania, you find some batting cages. You go in and swing. You start lacing pitching machine balls all over the cages. A crowd bigger than any of the ones that follow you on your walks springs up. When you're done swinging, you walk out of the cage and sign autographs. Lots of autographs. You even think about returning to the league.
When you walk past a TV store later that night, you see
Baseball Tonight is on.
John Kruk and
Steve Phillips are talking. You don't understand what they're babbling about at first, but then you realize that it's you. Somehow, word of your batting cage excursion became national news in less than ten hours. You feel a little sad. THIS was why you retired. THIS is why you've felt empty for so long.
And so, with nothing else to do, you just keep on walking.
THE END.
(Not sure how you got here? Start Choose Your Own Adventure: Manny Being Choosey in Free Agency from the beginning.)