First Ups ...
 

I was referring to the way we, as children, figured out "first ups" in our sandlot baseball games.

It seems that modern kids, for the most part, only seem to play "organized sports" (manicured, lined fields, real uniforms and equipment, adult coaches, certified game officials, etc.)

I learned a lot of life lessons on sandlot fields, asphalt driveway courts, and pond ice "rinks".

How to get along with each other? How to settle problems? How to "make do" with what we had? How to improvise?

How to have fun?

Yeah, I know that the good ole days really weren't the good ole days, but some parts were actually good.

Note: My cousin Jimmy once used a large bag of his Mom's baking flour to line his backyard wiffle ball field. My aunt wasn't very pleased.

Cow Pies ...
 

For those of us who were fortunate enough to have Santa Claus bring us football helmets, we would play tackle football on a a field that was unoccupied by cows at the time of the game.

We, of course, had to watch out for "cow pies".

I did not play football in high school. My only tackle football claim to fame was on a late afternoon with the sun already setting. Tie game. It was decided that we would have only two more possessions, one for each team, in the waning sunlight. Other team had the ball and tried to pass it in my direction. Pick six from deep in our territory, and I was the hero. It was the last time that I ever played tackle football. Fifty-five years later and I still remember how good I felt as I rode my bicycle home, arriving home in the pitch dark.