Rise and Shine --- The art of hitting

Good Morning and welcome to a brand, spanking-new week!

Somebody once said the hardest thing to do in sports was hit a baseball. Well, way back in the day, I lived through the statement. I probably would have done better not even taking a bat up to the plate. My Major League dreams died after the first pitch.
Still, I had fun. I remember the days of walking with my friends to the fields. I remember the first time I actually got a hit. I remember the last game I played.
Now, I see the perspective through other eyes. Each of the boys are playing baseball this year. They struggle with the bat. It's something I expected. I tried to give the warnings, but it looks so easy when somebody else is doing the hitting.
So, they practice. They get frustrated. They want to practice some more.
I did make the mistake of one day sitting them down in front of the television to watch the Phillies game.
"Look," I said, "see how they hold the bat. See how they swing. See, they don't get hits every time, either."
Well, in these days, most times.

Rise and Shine ---- Hitting the links

Good Morning and welcome back to another week!

For nine months of the year, it's not even a thought. Then, June comes along and boom, the begging starts: 'Can we play miniature golf? Can We play miniature golf? CAN WE PLAY MINIATURE GOLF!?!?'
Now, it's a game that can be fun, but, while there are a few around the area, nothing beats the miniature golf down the shore.
Maybe it's the hot sun. Maybe it's the calling of the seagulls. Maybe it's just that there are so darn many. You can drive past a miniature golf place around here, but, get down the shore, and it calls.
Hitting a brightly colored ball through a windmill makes us all seven years old.
The funny thing is, though, when you really are 7-years old (or 9 or 4), miniature golf is 'real golf.' So, having the opportunity to get down the shore for a day this weekend, the request started before even packing the car.
By the time the smell of the sea salt hit the nose, it was constant.
Finally, the course was picked out and everybody had the right colored ball.
Then, boom. It was time to hit drives. The swings from the putters could have put out an eye.
Then the rules start to change. Forget where the ball actually rolled to, pick it up and put it close to the hole. Knock it in for a two.
Wouldn't have it any other way.


If you have any cool links or photos, send them along to onlinedelco@gmail.com