My folks had an extra lot next to the house, on a corner. That was the gathering place for kids all over the neighborhood to get together for football games in the fall and baseball games as soon as the snow was almost gone till football season. My dad would hit me fly balls high as he could, and we'd play long toss, longer every year as I grew up. Turned out I had a good strong arm. The neighbor behind the lot always told me if I could hit the roof of his garage with a batted ball he'd give me 50 cents. Finally I hit a bomb that went over the roof, and I was all excited about getting the half buck. But when we went to retrieve the ball, it was in the house, went right thru the bedroom window. I lost money on that deal.