Luke held the door open for Lorelai as she made her way up the stairs to Luke's apartment. She put the basket down on the table and stood watching as Luke shuffled through some cabinets and closets, obviously looking for something. Lorelai had a notion it was some Red Sox memory, but when Luke pulled out an old, tattered box from the closet she knew she was in for a few stories.

"Have a seat," Luke said as he pulled out a chair of his own.

Lorelai obliged, and dragged her chair next to Luke's to get a better view of what was inside the box. She sat patiently as Luke searched for something to start off the explanation. Luke seemed to search forever until he found the perfect item to show Lorelai first.

"This is a picture of me and my father at Fenway. I don't remember how old I was. Maybe I was about seven," Luke said, handing the picture to Lorelai.

She took the picture and stared at it, trying to absorb the perfect shot. Luke was smiling (one of his front teeth was missing), holding up an autographed baseball while William Danes looked on proudly. When she noticed that Luke had his baseball cap on backwards in the picture, she let out a slight giggle.

"That's a nice picture," she said, trying to prevent a giggling outburst in a serious moment such as this.

"Yeah. My dad used to take me to games all the time, until he passed away. I haven't been since. It was something I shared with him. It's pretty much in my blood," Luke replied. He took the picture back and handed Lorelai a baseball.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's a game-used baseball. I caught it, actually. One of my favorite Red Sox players hit a home run. That means when he hit the ball, it went into the seats. I happened to bring my mitt, and I caught it. My dad was ready to block me from getting hit with it, but I didn't need the help, apparently. I took that ball with me everywhere, showing everyone, for the longest time."

Lorelai inspected the dilapidated ball. She wanted to ask who his favorite player was, but she couldn't react properly… she didn't know the players. Something so simple, like that baseball, seemed to have so much meaning to Luke. Of course, to Luke, it was a prized possession. Lorelai wouldn't be able to tell if it were a game used baseball. That was Luke's passion, his true love in life. Baseball was more than a sport, or a game, or something to watch on TV. It was a way for Luke to feel close to his father.

"This is the hat I used to wear to all the games. Well, I actually wore it everywhere, until it didn't fit me anymore. I figured it would be something nice to save. I don't know why I saved it, but I did. I can probably tell you what every stain on that hat was from, or how the hat got so torn," Luke said, holding the old cap by its brim.

Lorelai took the cap and analyzed it. The blue hat with the red "B" on the front was fraying at the front, and had holes in the side. There was a yellow stain on the top, from what Lorelai assumed was mustard. How the mustard got on the top, she wasn't exactly sure, but Luke could tell her anytime. She turned the hat over and inside, just under the hat's brim, Luke had written his name. It was obvious Luke was young when he did so. Lorelai was melted by the child-like handwriting on the hat. Luke had been a fan since he was tiny. It touched Lorelai to be able to listen to Luke's stories.

"And this is my collection of baseball cards. Uncle Louie got me my first package of baseball cards. Then I spent pretty much all my money on a new package of baseball cards every week. I was the master at trading them, too. I remember I made a deal one time to get Carlton Fisk's card for the Impossible Dream year. The kid I made the deal with had no idea how important that card was, but he jumped all over the idea of me trading all of my repeat cards for that one card. That was a stupid deal." Luke pulled out stacks and stacks of baseball cards from the box.

"Oh, Luke, this is all so nice. You really do have this connection with the Red Sox. It's unbelievable how interesting this stuff is," Lorelai gushed.

Luke shot Lorelai a look. "You don't have to fake it, Lorelai."

"No, Luke, that really wasn't sarcastic. That was the honest truth. I just wish I knew what it all meant. It's something you love, Luke. You take the time to try and appreciate what I love. I mean, you don't get my love for coffee, but you supply it to me anyway," Lorelai explained.

"That's because you would probably physically hurt me if I didn't."

Lorelai sidestepped that comment. "What's all that? The newspaper clippings and stuff?" she asked, pointing in the box.

Luke pulled them out of the box. "Articles I saved, you know, pictures and stuff like that."

"Can I see them?" Lorelai pleaded.

Luke sighed and handed Lorelai the pile of newspaper clippings. Lorelai expected to see pictures of Red Sox players, and headlines about some player she didn't know. But one headline in particular caught her eye. It read, "DANES DOES IT AGAIN FOR STARS HOLLOW!" Lorelai squealed as she pulled out the article accompanying the headline.

"Luke! I knew you were good, but man, every headline in here is about you! That must have been so cool," Lorelai said. "And is that Crazy Carrie in the background in this picture?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, she was my high school stalker."

Lorelai sorted through the papers. There were so many pictures, articles, and stories about Luke Danes, Stars Hollow's own baseball prodigy. "If you were so good, why didn't you play baseball? I mean, wow, Luke. You could have been on the Red Sox!"

Luke sighed. "Well, technically, I did go pro for a little while. I was drafted. I played one game for the Red Sox minor leagues, and I blew out my elbow when I was pitching. That was the end of it," Luke admitted.

Lorelai saw the disappointed look on Luke's face. She put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Luke. I didn't know," she apologized.

Luke shook his head. "No one knows. I don't think Taylor even knows. It was something I was proud of, and then it was pretty much ruined because of the whole elbow thing. I just haven't shared the information with anyone. Just don't go blabbing it around to everyone, okay?"

Lorelai nodded. "I promise."

"So this is my box full of baseball stuff," Luke said, handing Lorelai the box.

"Thanks for sharing that with me. Oh, you know what? I have something you might want to add to this box," Lorelai said, running toward the basket. She pulled out the autographed baseball and handed it to Luke. "It's signed by…" Lorelai pulled the basket description out of her pocket. "David Ortiz. Is he any good?"

Luke turned the ball around in his hands, trying to find the autograph. "Everyone says that this season is going to be his breakout season. But then again everyone says that 2004 is 'the year,' and that this season is going to be the one where we break the curse."

"The curse? What curse? Explain this curse, I didn't know baseball had curses," Lorelai asked, intrigued.

"It's not a good curse, Lorelai. In 1918, there was a player on the Red Sox named Babe Ruth. You would have liked him, legend has it he used to eat a lot of hot dogs," Luke started.

"Like him already, go on."

"Then, the Red Sox sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees. They basically gave up their best player. People say that there was a curse put on the Red Sox, saying they would never win another World Series… the World Series is to baseball what beating Kirk in the Dance Competition is to you," Luke explained.

"Oh, I get it," Lorelai nodded.

"And they haven't won since. It's called the Curse of the Bambino. We don't win, but the Yankees win all the time. We hate the Yankees, by the way. So it's been almost 86 years since the Red Sox have won," Luke said.

"Wow. Intense. I want to learn more," Lorelai said.

"You do?" Luke asked, shocked.

"I want to know who all our players are, and how good they are, so I know who to yell at during the game. How many days do we have to learn it all?" Lorelai fired question after question at Luke, interested to begin learning.

"We have a week," Luke said.

"How much can I learn in a week?" Lorelai asked. "I want to be cool when I go to the baseball game, I don't want to be one of those people who just goes because they have nothing better to do and they have no idea what's going on. I want it to mean something to me, because it means something to my friend Luke Danes. Please, Luke? Teach me! I want to learn, I'll even have Rory help me!"

Luke sighed. "Well, when can you start? I guess I can help you out, but don't flake out on me."

"Oh, I promise. I will not flake out on you. Is there some sort of baseball promise, or an oath I can take?" Lorelai asked.

"No, your word is enough. But the minute you whine about it, I'm not helping you anymore, and you'll be the Fenway reject you speak of so very highly," Luke insisted.

"I promise! Well, then, I will see you tomorrow. Bright and early. Nine sharp, in the diner."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Nine isn't early."

"For me it is, and besides, I have to get some rest so my brain can make room for all the stuff I'm going to learn," Lorelai insisted.

"See you tomorrow, then," Luke said.

"Bye, Luke. Thanks for doing this."

"Bye, Lorelai, and thank you for the ticket."

"Of course, Luke," Lorelai replied. She couldn't wait to get started.