Fun with throwing things

Although you wouldn't realize it by looking at me now, I can throw things pretty hard and accurate. Like any other boy growing up I liked to chunk rocks, sticks, dirt clods, eggs, balls, or anything else I felt like throwing. But I threw better than most boys. I know this because I would play catch with them and some of them would look like they were using their wrong hand. I would say, "Why are you throwing left-handed?" and the other boy would say, "Because I AM left-handed."

"Are you sure?" I would say, because it looked so clumsy and awkward. I wasn't cruel enough to say, "you throw like a girl" but usually one of the other guys said it. Most of these awkward-throwers didn't have a Dad to play catch with them so I cut them some slack in that category. I didn't have a Dad to play catch with me either. I had a Dad but he just usually didn't play catch with me--my Mom did.

My Mom is by far the most athletic person in our family. She was a Jr. High girls' coach for 30 years and she's tough as nails. At the age of 57 she is still playing in the most competitive league of summer softball for our hometown--something she has done since I was 2. In Highschool my mom lettered in 5 sports (basketball, volleyball, softball, track, tennis) all 4 years. Naturally, when she got to college she played some sports there too, like basketball. So my Mom and I would be throwing a baseball out in the yard and she would yell at me, "Throw it harder, you're not gonna hurt me." and then she would zing the ball back to me with a perfect overhand throw. I learned from the best.

So today, I thought I would share a few anecdotes of me throwing different things. Here we go:

DIRT CLODS/BOTTLES
One of the summers when I was hanging out at the baseball fields while my mom was playing softball, me and some other kids were playing on some dirt mounds by the fields. There were some really good clods there so we started launching them at each other and ducking behind the mounds.

I was doing pretty good until a rock hit me in the forehead and I started bleeding. The other boy got tired of throwing dirt and he threw a rock instead. I was in a lot of pain but I was embarrassed to have to walk up to my mom and tell her I was hurt. Some eyewitnesses told her we were throwing rocks. "DIRT!" I protested, but still I got in trouble.

Then there was another time when some kids were throwing glass bottles in an old equipment closet at the baseball fields. It looked fun! I grabbed a bottle and threw it and watched it shatter. No sooner had I done it, than I noticed my Mom charging out of the dugout straight for me. She had eyes in the back of her head. I quickly protested that the other kids were doing it as well. "I'm not their mother.", she said, and quickly administered justice.

EGGS
When I was in highschool I liked to sneak eggs out of the fridge and go out into the street in front of my house and throw them as high as I possibly could and watch them SPLAT! Or sometimes I would mix it up and throw them as far as I could. Once, when I was doing this, a pair of Mormon missionaries were on bikes at the end of the street. Without thinking I threw an egg towards them that flew impossibly far and landed just behind their back tires. Lord, forgive me, I now know that people are only won to You through Your love and truth, not eggs.

COW PATTIES
My best friend, my brother, and I were walking through a field by my friend's house. It was obvious that cows had been there before because there was a lot of dried cow patties. For those of you who don't know, when cow poop dries it looks something like a greenish-brown, flattened cinnamon roll. They also make good frisbees. So one of us grabbed the edge of one off the ground and quickly flicked it at the other. "Eww, you've got cow crap on you now!" Soon it was an all out war and all three of us were hurling cow patties as fast as we could at each other.

Then in a scene that is all too familiar, my friend grabbed a huge rock and threw it at me. It landed on my ankle and I was instantly crippled. I can't repeat what I yelled at him but it was the dirtiest words I could think of. He and my brother just laughed and I eventually could walk again.

What have I learned? When life throws crap at you, there are worst things you could be hit with.