Thoughts on baseball

I really like baseball. But sometimes I wonder if it likes me. Some people seem to easily get foul balls or home run balls and have nice baseball souvenirs. My only encounters with foul balls are when they hit me. Years ago we were at a Tucson Toros game, and a foul ball came right toward me. Mr. Beisbolfan said he had it, held out his hand to catch it, then pulled his hand away at the last minute, so the ball smacked me on the thigh, and I had a huge bruise for weeks. To add insult to injury, a bratty little kid got the ball, then proceeded to play with it for the rest of the game. Then yesterday, we went to see the Colorado Rockies & Texas Rangers play at Hi Corbett. The heat got to me, so we left our seats to sit at a table by left field, in the shade of an umbrella. Wouldn't you know it, a foul ball hit the post of the umbrella on our table, then smacked into my arm. Notice the imprint of the stitching on my arm. Ouch. At least this time I got the baseball, as well as a round of applause for "catching" it.