My life’s greatest regret happened during a baseball game my nine-year-old son was playing in. It’s a day I hate to remember, and yet I can’t forget it. Bottom of the last inning, my son’s team was up by one run, with runners on second and third base and two outs. If we got an out, we would win the game. The windup, the pitch. It was a high pop up to the left side of the field. It should have been an easy out – but wait! The third baseman and th…
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