I've
written three posts for today. All whiny drivel. I decided to go
back to my photo album for inspiration for something to write about
that wasn't depressing, medical, or would cause you all to call the
men in little white coats to come get me.
It's
time you learned Backyard Fence Ball. This is the game you and your
siblings invent when you all want to play baseball, only there are
only 3, not 18 of you.
Rules:
Teams:
Each
person is his or her own team. When you're up to bat, you hit the
ball, run to first. Get there safely? Go hit again. Get to first
safely again? You are now figuratively on second. Hit again? Get
to second? You're home! Simple arithmetic. You get around the bases
on singles, doubles, and triples, and each play is added to the one
before. Still three outs.
Outs
The
other two players are BOTH trying to get you out. One pitches, the
other fields, as does the pitcher once the ball is away. To get
someone out, you just have to hit THE BASE, or hit the person. First base was the fence
you see in the back ground. We were fairly reasonable about what was
close enough to first base, although this is the point we argued the
most. We should have just drawn a circle in chalk and called it
done. We did like to fight though...Second base was the big tree.
Anywhere on the trunk was fine. Third was a lawn chair. Again,
anywhere was fine. Home was a home plate. Well, a circle drawn in
the dirt.
We
played this game for hours. When we lost our wiffle ball (um, yeah,
I never said it was a real baseball) (but a wiffle ball does sting if
thrown by DataBoy) we'd play a kickball version of it. Yes, I did
get over my kickball trauma. Eventually. DataBoy usually won
because he had three skills that us girls didn't possess many of:
hitting the ball, throwing the ball accurately, and catching the
ball. Sigh. It was fun though.
“It's
a simple game. You throw the ball, you hit the ball, you catch the
ball. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes it rains.”
~Tina,
challenging you to quote the movie
