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    The Old House on Saxon

    By walt | July 18, 2011

    Dad said I would knock those red bricks loose if I kept pitching the hard ball against em. I’d draw a strike zone with an old sheetrock chalk on the red bricks  and pitch as hard as I could; hoping some scout  would drive by and see me then sign me to the minor leauge  Houston Buff’s . Those dreamy summer days in the 50″s. 

    Most of the time my pitching practices ended abruply with a crash of broken glass windows to the right. Another wild brush back pitch flying high and way inside.

    Topics: Family | No Comments »