Nick Nunziata
09-18-2005, 10:49 AM
Steve and I are thinking about playing winter baseball because life is short, so we took all my equipment up to the park to get practice hitting and pitching. One gets behind the screen and throws BP and the other takes his cuts. Pretty straightforward. We played in the big ballfield at Ocee Park over here. I think centerfield is about 360 and left and right around 330. I'm more of a gap hitter in softball but in baseball I'm a power hitter, pretty much a pull hitter whereas in softball I can hit to right just as easily as left. So we're plugging away.
Our last at-bat I decide to just air it out a little and see if I can crank a few balls out of the park. I did, all to left field. AS few really nice shots. Now, Ocee Park has a jogging track around the ballfields and whenever walkers or jogger or biker were from leftcenter to left I'd wait for them to pass on the outside chance I hit one out while they're there. It's their job to be wary but I wanted to make sure.
Steve throws a high one over the plate and I destroy it. I mean, DESTROY it. Moon shot way out. Problem is, it's to center where two Asian folks are walking. The odds of hitting them were tiny but they were oblivious. So I start screaming at them. Steve starts screaming at them. Waving our arms.
BAM!
I hit the old lady in her STOMACH. From like 375 feet away. She literally had like five or six seconds of warning and just kept walking. In the stomach! She screamed and grabbed her side. Steve and I rushed over there. Her husband's smiling and waiving his hands like "It's OK" and he tosses the ball to us. Meanshile she is hating life.
Turns out they knew ZERO English. Turns out they didn't realize that balls sometimes fly out of ballfields.
I felt real bad, but I was also kind of upset. I didn't get to enjoy what was possibly one of mt best swings ever and now I'd hurt someone. Steve was bordering between feeling the same way or giving me some special award. We waited there trying to see if there was anything we could do but eventually she began walking and the pair continued their somber journey.
Steve and I packed it up and left, but my wife said that she hoped the lady went to a doctor because her spleen could have been ruptured or something. Yow.
The morales of the story:
1. Prepare for balls at ballparks.
2. If you don't know English, at least learn how to say "I'm Hurt" or "I'm OK" or "What a blast, slugger!".
3. I'm ready to play winter ball, provided there's no fielding.
Our last at-bat I decide to just air it out a little and see if I can crank a few balls out of the park. I did, all to left field. AS few really nice shots. Now, Ocee Park has a jogging track around the ballfields and whenever walkers or jogger or biker were from leftcenter to left I'd wait for them to pass on the outside chance I hit one out while they're there. It's their job to be wary but I wanted to make sure.
Steve throws a high one over the plate and I destroy it. I mean, DESTROY it. Moon shot way out. Problem is, it's to center where two Asian folks are walking. The odds of hitting them were tiny but they were oblivious. So I start screaming at them. Steve starts screaming at them. Waving our arms.
BAM!
I hit the old lady in her STOMACH. From like 375 feet away. She literally had like five or six seconds of warning and just kept walking. In the stomach! She screamed and grabbed her side. Steve and I rushed over there. Her husband's smiling and waiving his hands like "It's OK" and he tosses the ball to us. Meanshile she is hating life.
Turns out they knew ZERO English. Turns out they didn't realize that balls sometimes fly out of ballfields.
I felt real bad, but I was also kind of upset. I didn't get to enjoy what was possibly one of mt best swings ever and now I'd hurt someone. Steve was bordering between feeling the same way or giving me some special award. We waited there trying to see if there was anything we could do but eventually she began walking and the pair continued their somber journey.
Steve and I packed it up and left, but my wife said that she hoped the lady went to a doctor because her spleen could have been ruptured or something. Yow.
The morales of the story:
1. Prepare for balls at ballparks.
2. If you don't know English, at least learn how to say "I'm Hurt" or "I'm OK" or "What a blast, slugger!".
3. I'm ready to play winter ball, provided there's no fielding.