Two 90 year old men, Moe and Joe, have been friends all of their lives.
> >
> > When it's clear that Joe is dying, Moe visits him every day. One day Moe
> > says, "Joe, we both loved baseball all our lives, and we played minor
> > league ball together for so many years. Please do me one favor, when you
> > get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's baseball up
there."
> >
> >
> > Joe looks up at Moe from his death bed," Moe, you've been my best friend
> > for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favor for you.
> >
> >
> > Shortly after that, Joe passes on.
> >
> >
> > At midnight a couple of nights later, Moe is awakened from a sound sleep
> > by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him, "
> > Moe--Moe."
> >
> >
> > "Who is it?, asks Moe sitting up suddenly. "Who is it?"
> >
> >
> > "Moe--it's me, Joe."
> >
> >
> > "You're not Joe. Joe just died."
> >
> >
> > "I'm telling you, it's me, Joe," insists the voice.
> >
> >
> > "Joe! Where are you?"
> >
> >
> > "In heaven", replies Joe. "I have some really good news and a little bad
> > news."
> >
> >
> > "Tell me the good news first," says Moe.
> >
> >
> > "The good news," Joe says," is that there's baseball in heaven. Better
> > yet, all of our old buddies who died before us are here, too. Better
than
> > that, we're all young again. Better still, it's always spring time and
it
> > never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play baseball all we want,
> > and we never get tired."
> >
> > "That's fantastic," says Moe. "It's beyond my wildest dreams!
> >
> > So what could possibly be the bad news?"
> >
> > "You're pitching on Tuesday."
> >
> >
> >