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The call came late at night. The kid was recovering from another marathon training session. "Eye of the Tiger" could still be heard softly playing from the headset on the desk. It was the manager, and from the sound of it, he had news. "Kid, you're movin' up to the big times. No more of this farm team hooey, you're going to the Majors." Right then, the kid knew what had finally turned his luck around, it was the wooden mouse he'd carved by hand from a branch of a lighting-struck tree. Now he'd be taking Ol' Lighting with him, all the way to victory.