Independence Day was always a day I looked forward to as a kid. There is nothing cooler than legalized explosives to set a boy’s heart a flutter. Where we grew up there were statutes that regulated when fireworks could be sold and what types of fireworks were allowed. For the most part I complied with the law. The key term in that sentence was “for the most part”. It was just too tempting to go over the state line or onto the Indian Reservation and get those fireworks that were just slightly beyond the laws of our state. And by slightly I mean you could get stuff that would blow your hands off if you weren’t careful. While that dumb and dangerous attitude was exhilarating, I was always left feeling slightly guilty because I had broken the law. Today as I watched my kids leaving on a road trip across the border to get “a couple of special fireworks” I wondered if they too would feel the pangs of guilt that I did. It’s funny how our conscience can sometimes get in the way of pushing the ethical envelope. I wondered if there was a corollary in baseball.


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