Since baseball season is in full swing, I thought I was share this funny anecdote from when I was younger. A life lesson when I learned that pop up foul balls aren’t good for windshields. My brother Jeff played baseball most of his life – from t-ball on up. He was rather good and was able to hit home runs, even when playing coach pitch ball.
In our town, at the baseball fields, there was the large, regulation field where the older kids played and then surrounding that field was the little league fields for the younger players. Right behind the backstop at home plate was the concession stand. Behind the concession stand was the parking lot.
Every year, there was a rotation of parents to work in the concession stand. This particular day, Jeff was playing on the “big” field and Mom (Nana) was working in the concession stand. Dad was either in the stands or coaching that year, I can’t remember for sure.
I was running late for the game and was supposed to be helping mom in the concession stand.
At this time, one of our vehicles was a 1982 custom conversion van. I drove this van all around town. (I was cool, what can I say. Okay…. the truth is, Dad took MY car to the game. I had to drive what was left.)
I race into the parking lot and lo and behold, right behind the concession stand is an open space. Right next to an older Corvette and a late model Camaro. (That is important, don’t forget.)
I pulled into the spot and rushed into the concession stand to help mom.
Later in the game, Jeff is up to bat.
He gets a strike.
The pitch comes and he makes contact with the ball.
The ball pops up.
Over the backstop it goes.
Over the concession stand it goes.
We hear it rolling down the roof of the concession stand.
We hear a loud crack.
Nobody thinks a thing about it and the game continues.
After the game, I went out to get in the van to go home. A baseball is lying next to the front tire and there is a big crack/dent in the windshield.
Now, remember earlier when I mentioned the two cars I was parked in between?
What are the odds that ball my brother hit rolled down the roof and hit our van?
Now, I know – the van was higher up than the other two sports cars. But, think about it…. it ROLLED down the roof, we heard it. It could have easily gone any direction.
The life lesson I learned? Don’t park your car where pop up fly balls can land.
As for the van, we drove it with the huge crack in the windshield until the day we put it out of its misery in the junk yard.
And trust me, my daddy never let me live it down.