Hammer & Bat

One summer we were playing

a pickup game of softball

and short on players.

Dad was swinging a hammer

on a new room addition.

I bugged him without mercy

to come and play with us.

He finally gave in

and laid his hammer down

and picked up a bat.

I was the pitcher.

On the very first pitch

Dad connected with a line drive

to the center field...

of my nine-year-old mid-section.

I picked up the ball on the ground

and threw Dad out at first base.

Keeling over,

I dropped to my knees,

cupping my stomach with my glove.

Dad ran over to me and

put his arm around me.

He asked me if I was okay - I was.

I was more in shock than in pain.

He lifted me up.

As I was wiping away the tears,

Dad was consoling and

congratulating me

for throwing him out at first base.

I quickly recovered and

the game resumed.

When I lived at home

Dad taught me a lot about

swinging a hammer and

swinging a bat.

He was good at both.

After that day,

he elevated my pitching game.