Two boys, I reckon about ten years old, were playing a game of two man baseball as the Hammer and I toured the park this afternoon. One of the boys had taken off both his shoes so they could have a first base. His socks were green because the grass crew had worked on the lawn in the morning.
It became clear they had invented their own set of loose rules as hits to different parts of their diamond were scored according to how far or where the scarred hard ball landed. "That's a ground rule double. No, wait. I think it's a homer. Now you have to run the bases." Most of the hits were ground rule doubles. They were the Barry Bonds and Henry Aaron of ground rule doubles.
One of the boys attempted a bunt. It deflected off the bat into the centre of his forehead. The shoeless boy who had pitched the ball fell over laughing. "Good bunt dickwad!"
I do not miss much about being a boy. But I do miss lazy games of neighbourhood baseball when the hockey sticks were resting in their basement corner waiting for winter.