The crack of the bat and the sound of a hardball on leather may signal the onset of spring for many, but for St. Clair Avenue and Avenue Road area resident David Eisenstadt, it's a chance to bond with his son.

It was yet another surreal moment amid seven days of pure fantasy. In the game that capped the Detroit Tigers baseball camp — against the retired pros who had coached me — I found myself staring down 1968 World Series pitcher Jack Billingham in the first inning.