It was the bottom of the ninth with a runner on first and third. The afternoon was warm and the sound of the ice cream truck broke through the silence as Collin stepped up to the plate and turned his cap backwards as he glared out at the pitcher with a cockiness that only a fifteen year old could possess. The bleachers were filled with the neighborhood friends and girlfriends sitting on the edge of their seats then the chortling began in earnest. Mitch looked to first holding Jeremy's eyes for a spit second as Sam moved away from first in anticipation of Jeremy stealing a base. Jeremy looked at Collin who was standing at the plate with the bat between his knees as he dug in his cleats. The rise of the crowd stamping their feet drowned out the ice cream truck and everyone looked at the scoreboard. Jack stepped back from third and nodded to Mitch. The score was nine to eight, two on base and two out. Collin picked up the bat and swung it a few times before holding it still as he watched Mitch who wound and threw a perfect curve ball. There was only one way to win and as the ball slowly crossed the field Collin shifted and everyone moved in for a bunt. The bat came around with such precision as the ball met its fate bringing the crowds to their feet as the ball continued over the fence into the open field. Five lifetime friends went through law school with the same tenacity as they took to the field always pushing the envelope and demanding the best. Always friends and always up to the challenge. The photograph taken that day of the in the bleachers after the win would capture their friendship forever. The orange clay of their uniforms, the girls in short shorts and cut-off pink team t- shirts, everyone wearing baseball caps and everyone thought life was perfect. The twenty-three friends in that photo slowly faded until there were only nine of them who kept in touch after high school and only five stepped into the courtroom and into a murder that brought back the simplicity of those boys on the baseball field.