That is so me…. waaaay out in right field…where I was always sent, in order to keep me and my several left feet as far away from any important action as possible…and where it always managed to find me anyway.
My first reaction to an incoming ball…. of the base, soft, volley, or what-have-you persuasion…. has always been to duck and cover.
And I’ve been told I throw like a girl.A girl!!but… but…. I am a girl… it’s soooo not fair!
Hi Susan! I blame the computer gremlins. I hit submit – nothing. Waited, reloaded (not refreshed) the toon, submit – nothing. Reloaded again, nothing there. So I gave up and moved on. Played right into their hands. That’s what they were waiting for. I was just about to shut down when a nagging voice said check once more. Aargh! Quick, delete! At least I got to say hi to you. : )
Usually after Tee Ball my son would tell us what a beautiful sunset we had. Others worried about how badly we had been beaten. He neither cared nor expected otherwise..There was one peculiar instance, though, in which someone hit the ball straight at him. He caught it by reflex, stared at the unexpected ball in his hand, threw it flawlessly to first base to make a double out of the other kid who also expected failure from such a disinterested player.The unexpected hero.
Lots of possible reasons. If we had hours to babble about psychology, some of them would surely pop up. But there are lots of young kids out there for no particular reason. IMO there’s a lamentable belief that each of us has more control over our lives than is the case in reality. For various reasons that I sometimes ponder about after living long years, I tend to think that other’s expectations of us drive us much more than we think.
That second panel gave me a long LOL: "…those people screaming “catch it, catch it…” Are the clamdiggers worth it, Agnes? I remember going to day camp and HATING the day we played softball because I was terrible at it. This was before the soft days of pseudo-inclusiveness, when childhood embarrassment could still be acute.
Parental influence, his mother’s.Nobody was kept from playing because he was there.He enjoyed his interests while playing: watching sunsets, kicking dirt from the hole which marked his right field station, watching the parents scream and cry while claiming it was all about the children.He was a happy child.is a happy manstill confused by the lunacy around himstill enjoying sunsetsone of the two best sons in the known universe.
Arianne over 10 years ago
Dare we hope? I can’t wait for tomorrow. Hang in there Agnes. It’s only a game.
SusanSunshine Premium Member over 10 years ago
That is so me…. waaaay out in right field…where I was always sent, in order to keep me and my several left feet as far away from any important action as possible…and where it always managed to find me anyway.
My first reaction to an incoming ball…. of the base, soft, volley, or what-have-you persuasion…. has always been to duck and cover.
And I’ve been told I throw like a girl.A girl!!but… but…. I am a girl… it’s soooo not fair!
SusanSunshine Premium Member over 10 years ago
Nice to see you, Arianne!Twice as nice, in fact, this time.:)
Arianne over 10 years ago
Hi Susan! I blame the computer gremlins. I hit submit – nothing. Waited, reloaded (not refreshed) the toon, submit – nothing. Reloaded again, nothing there. So I gave up and moved on. Played right into their hands. That’s what they were waiting for. I was just about to shut down when a nagging voice said check once more. Aargh! Quick, delete! At least I got to say hi to you. : )
rshive over 10 years ago
The right fielder’s prayer.
I was afraid that this would turn into a Charlie Brown-type thing. But this is soooo Agnes. Congrats to Tony.
J Short over 10 years ago
magicwalnut over 10 years ago
Poor Agnes…I know exactly how she feels…memories from sixty something years ago…
David Huie Green LoveJoyAndPeace over 10 years ago
Use your head, Agnes.It should be big enough and soft enough.
David Huie Green LoveJoyAndPeace over 10 years ago
Usually after Tee Ball my son would tell us what a beautiful sunset we had. Others worried about how badly we had been beaten. He neither cared nor expected otherwise..There was one peculiar instance, though, in which someone hit the ball straight at him. He caught it by reflex, stared at the unexpected ball in his hand, threw it flawlessly to first base to make a double out of the other kid who also expected failure from such a disinterested player.The unexpected hero.
rshive over 10 years ago
Lots of possible reasons. If we had hours to babble about psychology, some of them would surely pop up. But there are lots of young kids out there for no particular reason. IMO there’s a lamentable belief that each of us has more control over our lives than is the case in reality. For various reasons that I sometimes ponder about after living long years, I tend to think that other’s expectations of us drive us much more than we think.
joegeethree over 10 years ago
That must be the highest fly ball in history if Agnes has time to say a full on prayer.
dogday Premium Member over 10 years ago
That second panel gave me a long LOL: "…those people screaming “catch it, catch it…” Are the clamdiggers worth it, Agnes? I remember going to day camp and HATING the day we played softball because I was terrible at it. This was before the soft days of pseudo-inclusiveness, when childhood embarrassment could still be acute.
chriscc63 over 10 years ago
I see a bonk on the forehead coming.
bfr Premium Member over 10 years ago
At her age, I WAS Agnes!!!
David Huie Green LoveJoyAndPeace over 10 years ago
Parental influence, his mother’s.Nobody was kept from playing because he was there.He enjoyed his interests while playing: watching sunsets, kicking dirt from the hole which marked his right field station, watching the parents scream and cry while claiming it was all about the children.He was a happy child.is a happy manstill confused by the lunacy around himstill enjoying sunsetsone of the two best sons in the known universe.