As I begin to get older, incidents from ancient days often pop into my fertile mind. (Fertilizer, if you will.) For no particular reason, I will relate these occurrences from time to time.

One out, runner on third...

Shortly after another trip to the E.R. to reduce my oft dislocating right shoulder (13 to this date), I was playing catcher on our city league softball team. I usually played an infield position, but since my arm would not allow hard throws to first base, I spent rehab time as catcher. I would like to claim that my bat was a necessary ingredient for our success, but, in truth, we just needed a body in order to have enough to legally play.

The batter lifted a fairly deep fly to left field-- a sure sac fly. The runner on third was fast, so a put out for a double play was a long shot. Our left fielder had an extremely strong arm, but regularly had control problems. (His throws to the cut-off man had been known to end up in the stands.) Surprisingly, the throw looked pretty promising. Indeed, it was. It could best be describes as a single hop laser beam about three feet on the infield side of the plate. The ball was caught, the body pivoted toward the plate, and a sweep tag caught the runner's sliding shoes within the cloud of dust. No muss, no fuss-- double play. Crap, what a great throw!

The left fielder with the Star Wars light saber arm-- Grandpa John! He should have been arrested for concealed carry!