KELLER’S DESIGNATED HITTER 1 Keller, a beer in one hand and a hot dog in the other, walked up a flight and a half of concrete steps and found his way to his seat. In front of him, two men were discussing the ramifications of a recent trade the Tarpons had made, sending two minor-league prospects to the Florida Marlins in return for a left-handed reliever and a player to be named later. Keller figured he hadn’t missed anything, as they’d been talking about the same subject when he left. He figured the player in question would have been long since named by the time these two were done speculating about him. Keller took a bite of his hot dog, drew a sip of his beer. The fellow on his left said, “You didn’t bring me one.” Huh? He’d told the guy he’d be back in a minute, might have mentioned he was going to the refreshment stand, but had he missed something the man had said in return? “What didn’t I bring you? A hot dog or a beer?” “Either one,” the man said. “Was I supposed to?” “Nope,” the man said. “Hey, don’t mind me. I’m just jerking your chain a little.” “Oh,” Keller said. The fellow started to say something else but broke it off