What is with today’s youth who never seem to get out of the house, but instead spend hour upon hour playing video games, watching movies, and social network on five websites? When I was young, it was impossible to keep kids indoors. Our fun was outside the house. My favorite boyhood years ran from age six to eleven. Back then, baseball was my dream. Playing the field, pitching, batting, chasing taped up baseballs – everything about the sport – I loved. Most of the kids in the neighborhood joined in, so it wasn’t difficult to set up a game. In whatever weather, hot or cold, rain or shine, we met at one of a few pieces of cleared or half-cleared property we transformed into playable fields. Word spread quickly from one house to the other when a game was called. Teams were picked the old way, by tossing a baseball bat to a team member. Where caught, another other boy would place his hand around the bat above the other’s hand, then the other kid’s hand went on top of his, and if one of them was lucky enough to be able to “cap it” by setting his palm on the upturned round bottom and reach his fingers down to touch the other’s hand, he won the first pick. I still recall the names of our favorite professional ball players, the Pittsburgh Pirates. Dick Groat, Bill Mazeroski, Roberto Clemente, Harvey Haddox, Rocky Nelson, Smokey Burgess, Bob Skinner, Dick Stewart, Dean Baker, and others. They were our life, our passion, and a big part of our radio and TV listening. Owning a ball, glove and a bat was all a kid needed to stay for most of the day out of the house and away from trouble. During one game near the Nixon house, in a vacant lot that was anything but, we managed to gather five or six to a team. The perimeter of the lot held scattered brush and trees, thick enough to hide inside if nature called. My brother, Denny, in need of such a break, headed into the woods and was gone for a few minutes when we heard from his direction a loud cry for help. While squatting, he’d lost his balance and fell onto a protruding piece of glass that sunk into his knee. Blood was all over his leg when I got to him. With my T shirt off, I wrapped his knee, tied it, and ran to ask Mrs. Nixon for care. She insisted Denny be taken to the emergency room of the hospital where he was stitched. That scar can be seen to this day.