He came out of a small college in the mid-west, and the pro scouts were all high on him as a prospect. Only two knocks against him, he was too light, the other he didn't have quite enough speed. For eight years he knocked around the leagues, waiting for his break, but somehow it never came. Then one day, he was thirty, and Gil Stephens knew that he had ridden the bench for the last season. It was time to look for a full-time job with a future. No more odd-jobs. How could he have known that he was about to give his life for one of the oddest jobs of all.