It's a crisp sunny morning in late December. I'm sitting in my therapist's lobby in Midtown Manhattan, anxiously waiting for my girlfriend, Sabrina, to arrive. She's visiting my shrink with me so we can duke out our premarital differences, which can be boiled down to one, ever-nagging question: why, after...

Wearing a red hoodie with ATHLETICS in big, bold letters scrawled across the chest, seven year-old Connor Flynn chokes up on a metal bat over a T-Ball. He looks steadily at his target, heeding the axiom that's been pounded into every Little Leaguer's head: "Keep your eyes on the ball."...