Standing in the familiar living room, Martin looked at the somewhat unfamiliar photo. It was of a burly young man in a baseball uniform, preparing to throw a pitch in the game.
Harris came over and said, "Holle is now one of the best pitchers in the NCAA baseball league. The Braves have been scouting him for the past two years. If all goes well, he'll join the Atlanta Braves through the draft next year."
"I'm not one of the best!" Holle's voice suddenly came from the doorway, "I am the best."
Martin turned his head and saw the tall young man over 1.8 meters, and asked seriously, "Do you dig a hole before playing in the game?"
Holle opened his mouth, his face looking constipated.
From upstairs, Lily said while walking down, "He's the best at screwing up the game, that little brat!"
Holle got angry and glared, "I'm grown up now; you aren't allowed to talk about me like that!"
Then he pouted, "America's famous young artist here, and all you speak is foul language!"
