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When I was a child, baseball was the only sport I was aware of, and it was everything. I wanted so badly to be a good baseball player so that I would be as admired as much as other friends who excelled in sports and competed on little league teams and seemed to be admired by everyone. So I spent hours almost every day throwing a baseball at a target on the wall of my garage. I was very good at throwing that ball. I developed a strong arm, I suppose, but I was terrible at actually catching the ball.
I love baseball on TV to this day because almost every single inning, some player races to catch a ball and actually catches it and casually tosses it into the stands. Oh, what I would have given to be able to do that. I now walk with a cane to help find the place to set my foot. I would give anything to be young enough again to try to get below a long fly ball and grasp it within my glove.
Don't ask me how many of those balls bounced out of my glove before I could make the catch. You know, if you ever tried to play the game.
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As a kid, I lived way out in the sticks and there were only three of us who lived close enough to play a form of "baseball." One guy would pitch, one would field, and the third would bat. If the batter got on base, the only way he could advance, and eventually score a run, was to get in rundowns from first to second to third and then home. Most games were quite low scoring.
The other version was "home run derby," where we'd try to hit a home run over my mom's clothesline strung between two trees. The fielder would stand in front of the clothesline and try to jump up and catch any balls that were going over the "wall."
I guess we were masters of improvisation.
Edit: We were Pittsburgh Pirate fans and Bill Mazeroski's home run to beat the Yankees in 1960 had us euphoric for weeks, maybe even months.
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Sounds like you have the same skillset today as does Pete Crow-Armstrong of the Cubs
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I bought Detroit Tigers season tickets. Obviously I am an idiot.
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No, you are what we all should be, which is an optimist.
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At 64, I still go to the batting cages once or twice a year to still see if I can hit - gets harder each year
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