My routine was playing back yard baseball (hitting a tennis ball) with the kid across the street, using an old wooden vegetable crate as a strike zone, throw to the target at the bases to get him out running. A hit over one fence was a home run, over two and you were out.
If we were lucky enough to have three players, we would play "running bases" in the front lawn, between the driveways, trying to throw each other out stealing. We wore the grass down to dirt where we played.
Also - I am not a teacher now but I went to school to be one and did two stints of practicum, the second one lasting 5 weeks. Those five weeks were *exhausting*. Maybe the hardest I've ever worked at a single job in my life. Being with the kids, even when they are fun and rewarding to be around (which is most of the time) is still mentally exhausting, and then you have to mark and plan and all that? I'd leave school, go home, nap until dinner, eat, then work for about 3-4 solid hours before going straight to bed. I'm sure it gets easier with experience but if while I was doing curriculum you'd asked me to also write a baseball blog, I would've punted you into next Tuesday.
All of that to say, I reject your apology and embrace a new installment of the JBLC
Great to see you back writing! When i was a kid in Niagara Falls, we'd play what we called 'wall ball' in the empty loading docks behind the Towers/Food City building. The ramp provided the 'mound' and we'd pitch downhill to a batter who stood on either side of a 'strike zone' box painted on the wall. Cement pillars at the edges of the ramp provided foul poles, single was anything past the ramp, doubles were line shots off the grass, triples off the fence, and homers were over the fence. i'd forgotten how much fun that was until i read your posting and it brought it back. Hat tip to you Sir.
I grew up in a bedroom community surrounded by farms, so if we couldn’t bike there we couldn’t go until our parents got home. Most often it was hopping off the school bus, walking home and grabbing our gear to play in someone’s backyard. Given that we wouldn’t have 9, let alone 18, it was variations of HR Derby’s (can you hit it into the neighbours backyard?) or a little hot corner action trying to snag line drives and grounders hit by 10 year olds.
Sunday evening softball practice and a twice weekly game in June/July was a nice change to the routine!
My routine was playing back yard baseball (hitting a tennis ball) with the kid across the street, using an old wooden vegetable crate as a strike zone, throw to the target at the bases to get him out running. A hit over one fence was a home run, over two and you were out.
If we were lucky enough to have three players, we would play "running bases" in the front lawn, between the driveways, trying to throw each other out stealing. We wore the grass down to dirt where we played.
First of all great article.
Also - I am not a teacher now but I went to school to be one and did two stints of practicum, the second one lasting 5 weeks. Those five weeks were *exhausting*. Maybe the hardest I've ever worked at a single job in my life. Being with the kids, even when they are fun and rewarding to be around (which is most of the time) is still mentally exhausting, and then you have to mark and plan and all that? I'd leave school, go home, nap until dinner, eat, then work for about 3-4 solid hours before going straight to bed. I'm sure it gets easier with experience but if while I was doing curriculum you'd asked me to also write a baseball blog, I would've punted you into next Tuesday.
All of that to say, I reject your apology and embrace a new installment of the JBLC
Great to see you back writing! When i was a kid in Niagara Falls, we'd play what we called 'wall ball' in the empty loading docks behind the Towers/Food City building. The ramp provided the 'mound' and we'd pitch downhill to a batter who stood on either side of a 'strike zone' box painted on the wall. Cement pillars at the edges of the ramp provided foul poles, single was anything past the ramp, doubles were line shots off the grass, triples off the fence, and homers were over the fence. i'd forgotten how much fun that was until i read your posting and it brought it back. Hat tip to you Sir.
I grew up in a bedroom community surrounded by farms, so if we couldn’t bike there we couldn’t go until our parents got home. Most often it was hopping off the school bus, walking home and grabbing our gear to play in someone’s backyard. Given that we wouldn’t have 9, let alone 18, it was variations of HR Derby’s (can you hit it into the neighbours backyard?) or a little hot corner action trying to snag line drives and grounders hit by 10 year olds.
Sunday evening softball practice and a twice weekly game in June/July was a nice change to the routine!