Daddy, Who Was That Guy?
In about 2008, we were in Tractor Supply in Tullahoma shopping.
As we waited, a fellow in line in front of us turned around and looked at me. The look was not threatening, but it was not friendly either. It was obvious he or I one was about to say something. He spoke first, " You don't remember me do you?" After a short pause, I smiled and said, " I'm trying to remember your name. You are going to have to help me out." He had a kind of a blank, semi-angry stare. After a few seconds, he said, " You hit me with a baseball when I was 12." I heard what he said, and I waited for him to smile and laugh and slap me on the shoulder or something.
After an awkward couple of seconds, I said, "You know I didn't do that on purpose." He turned back around and didn't say anything else.
The wild pitch that was still causing him problems was at least 30 years earlier. I was reminded that not everyone's baseball memories are the same.
On the way to the car, one of the kids said, "Daddy, who was that guy?" I said, "I have no idea, but we must have played baseball together."