Here he is, dropping a fly ball hit right to him in center field. It was the second time he dropped a fly ball that day. As I was leaving the field to turn in my photos, another fly ball went his way. He dropped that one too. I felt so bad for him.
And here he is, doing a face plant in the dirt. He slid too early and got picked off scrambling back to second. He also reminded me a lot of myself. As a wee lad playing Little League baseball I would constantly drop balls out in right field. I remember frustrated parents hated me when I went up to bat because I would never swing. Good times.
2 comments:
great. i'll remember to hit to you in right field at the next company picnic softball game. "why is he pointing at me??"
oh yeah. we don't have company picnics. that's my wife's employer.
I was the kid who not only couldn't catch a fly ball, but got hit by them when I wasn't paying attention.
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