If kids are playing baseball, maybe things are getting back to some kind of normal.

Well, they're finally playing baseball down in the Omaha, Nebraska area. How would I know that? I have two Grandkids that are finally our on the diamond and they couldn't be happier!

And then this happened.

I played Little League baseball back in the day. The two things I remember are: 1) I could pitch OK, and 2) I couldn't hit worth a toot. I mean, I couldn't get wood on the ball at all (Yes, back then the bats were wood). A pitch would come in, it might be afoot outside, and I'd dive out of the batter's box 'cause I was absolutely 100% sure it was going to hit me. As it turns out, I discovered you couldn't hit really well if you were convinced every pitched ball was going to smack you right in the face. So it would pretty much be 3 pitches and sit down and thank you very much.

Thankfully, it's not that way at all for my Grand Young 'Un Bennet.

He just turned 12 and for the very first time ever he hit a Home Run! And I mean an honest-to-goodness, over the fence and into the grass beyond center field Home Run. I'm talking about a race-to-first and then see it go over the fence and slow down into a Home Run Trot Home Run.

There are a few times in your life that you experience what I call a benchmark moment. Something like getting the keys to your very first, very own car (No more driving Dad's).

I'm sure hitting that first-ever over-the-fence Home Run is one of those moments. (Although, of course, I wouldn't know for sure about that). That ball he autographed with the date, that ball he's holding? I sure hope that will go in a case somewhere and fifty years from now he'll show it to his family at a reunion in the park. By that time, I'm thinking he'll tell his family it was a 400-foot dinger down at Kaufman Stadium in Kansas City.

Can you tell I'm proud and happy for the kid?

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