Steve Rogers woke up at 4:55 a.m., minutes before his alarm clock rang. He jumped out of bed, stretched, and began his morning routine. By 5:15, Steve had already done 3,250 push-ups and 4,500 sit-ups, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Next it was time for his morning jog—a quick ten-mile run around the streets of New York City.

Steve left his apartment, breathed in the warm June air, and began his jog. Good runners could finish a mile in five minutes. Steve could do it in under two.

Steve made his way downtown and to Forty-Second Street, then cut over to Broadway. As he ran, Steve looked up at the giant billboards and bright lights of Times Square. Steve definitely preferred the old Big Apple.

Steve ended his run downtown in front of a newsstand and was instantly greeted with a “hiya, Cap” from the guy working the stand, whom everyone called Old Joe.

“Just Steve, please,” Steve said.

“The usual?” Old Joe called out.

Steve nodded, and the man handed him the . Steve still couldn’t believe a newspaper cost a dollar. He remembered when they were just five cents!

“Glad you’re still buying the paper,” Old Joe began. “You’re my best customer. Most people today get their news from phones or computers. You even pay with actual money. It’s like the 1940s all over again,” he said with a smile.

Steve smiled back, took the paper, and walked across the street to get a cup of coffee. Usually, he’d go to the local Diner. But after hearing Old Joe talk about the ’40s and how different things were today, Steve thought he would try something new, so he made his way to the trendy coffee shop down the block.

The shop was buzzing with people. They barely stopped moving long enough to order their drinks, all of which sounded weird to Steve. He stared at the chalkboard menu. When it was his turn, Steve asked for “just a cup of Joe,” and the kid behind the counter stared back at him blankly.

“You want what?” the server asked, confused.

“A cup of Joe, black,” Steve replied, but there was still no response. “You do sell coffee here, right?” Steve asked. The kid was amazed that someone wanted just a regular black coffee with nothing else in it. Steve paid for his overpriced drink, then took his paper and sat on a bench outside.

So much for trying something different, he thought.

Steve looked around and sighed. People were walking with their heads down, busy with other things, oblivious to the world around them. Everyone was connected to technology, but not ... to one another. In Steve’s day, people talked to each other. They read and conversed rather than losing themselves in their own virtual worlds.

But before he could continue thinking about how different things were, a strong voice called out to him. “Captain, we have a situation ...” the voice began. Steve looked up to see his Avengers teammate Sam Wilson, code name ,standing before him. Steve instantly rose to his feet.

“What’s the mission?” Steve asked, ready to jump into battle.

Sam began. “I’ve got an extra ticket to today’s Yankees game and no one to go with me. What do you say? Want to take in America’s favorite pastime?” he asked.

Steve smiled. It wasn’t an actual mission, but a baseball game with Sam would still be fun.

“Count me in,” Steve said. “Besides, I haven’t been to a ball game since Joltin’ Joe played.”

“Joltin’ who?” Sam asked as they walked back uptown.

“Never mind,” Steve said with a sigh. Little did he know that day would be the start of the most dangerous mission of Cap’s career. Qq2++lWQulVoS11DbrcrwMs/u/DU6EHsjjm/gT83R8wXs3lxl7xq5SDzt2jHdVdl