Re: TOOTBLAN and other tales of infamy on the diamond
In high school, standing behind the pitcher during pre-game batting practice, I was in charge of catching the BP balls thrown back to the mound and putting them in a bucket for the pitcher to use. I turned around to face home for the next pitch and took a one-hopper to the groin. Of course, I had forgotten to put my cup in. The ball just missed the vital parts down there, but it still hurt enough to force me to spend the game lying on a picnic table with a bag of ice on my crotch.
Burn down the disco. Hang the blessed DJ. Because the music that he constantly plays, it says nothing to me about my life.