I'll note up front my coaches, and the parents of teammates and opponents, were all very supportive.

In practice I could hit well. That was with a coach tossing batting practice sorts of pitches. But in games I was terrified of getting hit by the baseball.

I tried pitching. In practice I was fairly decent. My one part of one game on the mound was a disaster. Maybe I was afraid of hitting the hitter. I got the hook and never saw the mound again. With good reason!

I played outfield well. Could track down and catch most anything nearby. My arm was OK when I needed to get the ball back to the infield.

My baseball career was over by 5th grade. It was brief, but I enjoyed it.

Subtle brag much?

JK

...Left field in an all-star game, fly ball right into the sun; I move sideways and step in what might have been a woodchuck hole, falling backwards. On my back, I hear cheering, look at my glove, and see the ball. "What a great diving catch," said the coach when I came back to the dugout. I just shrugged and made a face like this:



(I think about half the league made it to the all-star game.)