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And most of the time when parents complained my practices were too hard I would tell them I used to ride a bicycle three miles to practice, either with a friend on the handlebars, or I was on the handlebars with a friend pedaling. Then practice and ride back. Then Dad might ask me to cut the grass, and then I would spend time before dark throwing a baseball, or a hard rubber ball about the same size as a baseball, against the 2 feet of brick above the foundation, just before the asphalt shingles, getting hundreds of ground balls to field. And if I missed and broke a shingle Dad didn't say a word. Most of my off the field practice time was on ground balls. I can not imagine how much time I would have spent if I only knew about tees and nets back then.
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