Home run classics

Brother Tim and I were always trying to create our own fun. One of the games we came up with was something called "Home Run Classic". Our backyard was full of trees so we needed to get a little clever on just how our whiffle ball diamond would be set up. With huge trees down the leftfield side, we would need to become left handed hitters. The idea of the game was that each player got two outs. You had one pitcher and one batter. The ball was pitched and when you hit it with the sawed off broomstick, either it was a pop out or if it it made it into the tall grass, it was a homerun. Simple rules. Well, after a long summer of numerous games, Ma decided we were wrecking the lawn and declared our league defunct. The remedy was easy. We just waited until she went to her job at the nursing home and would play then. We always asked Dad and he gave us the nod. The only problem was that when she got home, she would inspect the grass in the yard and discover another classic had occurred. One day, she left as usual and we asked Dad to allow us to play. He did. So our game began. Then the phone rang. It was Ma. I heard Dad answer it and rat us out like a fink in the detective's chair under a bright light. He sang like a canary. What the heck? He gave us permission and now he's turned on us? A minute or so later, he came into the backyard and demanded that the game stop. Ma had given him a direct order and he being the good soldier (or the suck-up) had to follow it. Younger brother Corey was his back-up. All of a sudden Corey picked up the broomstick and ran. I gave chase and yelled at him to drop the stick. He did, but instead of just dropping it, he sort of threw it and it acted like a spear and drove into the ground. With luck being no where around, his head and eye ran right into the end of it. Six stitches later, I received a beating for what I had done to the baby. Yeah, like it was my fault. Had the little suck butt stayed in the house like he was supposed to and had Dad not squeeled like an ungreased wheel, none of this would have happened...

I have since married and now encourage "Home Run Classic" in the backyard anytime the boys want. I just don't tell my wife....

Joe