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Thanks, DaddyO. Yes, keeping a ball around was a challenge, wasn't it? My Dad bought me a mitt in the Sears bargain basement. I was so excited. we got home and played catch for about five minutes. From then on, I was on my own - dad was in no way shape or form an athlete or interested in athletics. But it was cool.

I was a pretty bad ballplayer, and usually struggled to not be among the last chosen. One day I hit a fairly lazy grounder to right field. Of course, the one player worse than me was manning right field and it rolled under and last him for a home run.

That home run moved me up a few notches in the pecking order for a couple weeks: "Pick Rick! He hit a home run."

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