[BuggBob]

During my game yesterday, the first pitch of the inning I get hit in my left hand. BOOM! My indicator explodes. As I stand there grasping my hand in pain, I look down to see my beloved and much used indicator on the ground in seven distinct pieces; the front cover, back cover, four florescent yellow wheels with raised red numbers, and a metal piece used to restrict the wheel movement to one direction while make a distinct clicking noise. (Say, it just occurred to me, maybe this is why the uniformed call them clickers?)

The offensive coach rushes in to see if I am alright. As he arrives on the tragic scene he sees the mortal remains of my destroyed indicator on the ground. After determining that I am (mostly) unhurt, he picks up the remains and hands them to me. “Too bad about your clicker, now what are you going to do?”

With a twinkle in my eyes, I wryly smile I say, “Watch this.” With a small flourish I reach into my ball bag and pull out my spare reserve emergency indicator, which had just been promoted to lead indicator.

“Wow, you are a well prepared,” says the much impressed coach.

As the game is ready to get back underway, the defensive coach seriously asks, “What’s the count?”

Reaching back into my bag I pull out a few of the broken pieces, “I don’t know.”

“Was that a ball or a strike?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it was a ball.”

Between innings I give the pitcher’s coach the seven remaining pieces of the indicator, “Here coach, your pitcher earned this.”