And I’m going to have a pair of ball-shaped bruises, one each leg, to prove it.
And by “play baseball” I mean act as catcher during batting practice. Mark pitches, one boy bats, the other plays outfield.
And by “act as catcher” I mean stand as far away from the plate as I can, and let the balls hit the backstop before I grab them. Clearly I wasn’t very good, vis-a-vis the aforementioned matching bruises.
I’ve long accepted that I’m afraid of the ball. Damn thing HURTS when it hits you, seems like a pretty reasonable fear.
Baseball practice was a follow-up to a wienie roast (with smores for dessert). Yum.