Sandor Courane and four other up-and-coming sf writers are snagged from their hotel at a 1979
convention in New Orleans only to wake up the next morning as five insignificant major league
ballplayers in 1954—and the aging Sandor is hitting only .221.
I felt angry. I wanted to show that kid, but there wasn’t anything I could show him,
with the possible exception of sentence structure.
I felt angry. I wanted to show that kid, but there wasn’t anything I could show him,
with the possible exception of sentence structure.
1 English variant