The townhouse abuts a city park, and a softball diamond is right outside the patio door. It's sort of like living in Wrigleyville - free entertainment on summer evenings.
This afternoon, a couple of dads had taken their boys for a pickup game. These are fun to watch.
I was watching the game when the batter, who looked like he was about 10, hit a chopper up the middle. The shortstop, who looked about 9, just kinda stood there as the ball bounced to the outfield. The batter beat out a standup double.
"It wasn't my fault! I wasn't ready!" said the shortstop. "You shouldn't have pitched 'til I was ready! It wasn't my fault!"
I think that boy has a bright future ahead of him as a manager of an old technology business. Sign that boy up for his golden parachute right now!
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