Time out from my tour of Scotland to talk about my day.

Thursday, Dale and LuAnn (our local minor-league baseball experts) sent out an e-mail that they had two tickets for sale for today’s game.  Right away I was thinking this would be a good thing for me to do – just sit and watch something mindless.  So I grabbed a kid (the 8yo) and after church (where we heard an excellent message on what is happening with Islam in the Middle East) I headed for the Cougars.

The day was warm, but it wasn’t bad – a nice breeze was blowing through the stadium. We had great people around us (always a help to having a good time at a game). We enjoyed some junk food, like you do at ball games and everything was going well.

Then a player (and I can’t even tell you who) hit a foul ball which went spinning into the crowd – up behind me. I knew it was there and coming down, but I couldn’t see it in the bright sun – when all of a sudden it hit my leg with a thump that was heard for rows around me. (I know that because for the rest of the game people came up to me and told me they heard it hit.) Immediately security and first aid were there – asking me how I was doing and getting me ice and getting my information down.  Yes, my leg stung a lot, but I was just thankful it didn’t hit the 8yo OR my head. And it was kind of interesting how many people asked whether I was in pain and told me stories of when they got hit. (Like the man whose wife was hit by a ball so hard, you could see the stitch marks in her head!)  I think the thing that impressed me the most however, was the four middle school boys a couple rows down who were very concerned that I was ok.

Looking on the postiive side – for the rest of the game they continued to bring me ice (which wasn’t a bad thing on a day like today) and they gave me a ball!

About twenty minutes after it happened, another lady was hit – except she was hit in the mouth – and was obviously in super pain. They called a doctor and took her out of the stadium. So again, I was thankful that I simply have a bruised and swollen leg. I can live with that.

And as the 8yr told me quite excitedly right after it happened, “Now we have a story to tell.”

So I’m telling it. 🙂

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