We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I can only remember bits and pieces of the game. I was psyched. I had a feeling of euphoria. I was zeroed in on the (catcher's) glove, but I didn't hit the glove too much. I remember hitting a couple of batters, and the bases were loaded two or three times. The ball was small sometimes, the ball was large sometimes, sometimes I saw the catcher, sometimes I didn't. Sometimes, I tried to stare the hitter down and throw while I was looking at him. I chewed my gum until it turned to powder. I started having a crazy idea in the fourth inning that Richard Nixon was the home plate umpire, and once I thought I was pitching a baseball to Jimi Hendrix, who to me was holding a guitar and swinging it over the plate. They say I had about three to four fielding chances. I remember diving out of the way of a ball I thought was a line drive. I jumped, but the ball wasn't hit hard and never reached me.
I have no Idea why that struck as so funny. Well I guess I do have an idea. A 'close friend of mine' once sat in a barracks bathroom and listened to the symphony of the toilets flushing for over an hour until his friends convinced him the stereo would be better.
The melting balls are in the melting pots you silly girl.
BiW - one guy in the barracks once collapsed in the hallway in yet another heroin OD. He was completely non-responsive and were even uncertain we could detect life signs. Slapping, shaking, the whole nine yards with no response whatsoever. Eyes pegged in the back of his head.
He was so bad we decided there was no choice and he'd have to worry about the consequences IF he lived through it so we had CQ call for an ambulance. "Hang on, buddy, hang on. The ambulance will be here soon."
He heard that! He literally jumped up and ran from the building. He couldn't get far though and they found him. It wasn't that incident but he eventually wound up with a DH and did, I think, 12 months in a different barracks - one was in Kansas.
We lost some guys that way but the Army got it pretty much cleaned up. A year or so later Geraldo rolled in and did a show about military drug abuse. There is a rumor there was some woman in town he didn't hit on..
I got out in "83" and left those experiences behind. It was a wild time in Germany in those times. I had an experience like yours in Amsterdam. The guy never recovered though.
I was in a hospital over there and it seemed like what MASH would have been like in peacetime. Good people, largely unattached, with a lot of free time and some disposable income. I feel for the young men and women now who are actually in harms way.
Once against the Reds I recall he hit five straight batters to start the game. Can't remember anything else, whether they pulled him or if he settled down or what. One of the strangest things I'd seen.