I immediately dived toward third base and did not see the ball as it dropped and curved beautifully across the plate. I could hear laughter as I rolled in the din and grass. I faked back spasms and crawled to the dugout. The next day, Boo Ferris, that perfect gentleman, called me into his office and confessed he didn't think I could hit a fast ball. And, since it had already been established I couldn't hit a curve, there wasn't much left.
Pitchers can be cruel when they spot weaknesses.
Boo cut me kindly, and my career was over. My roommates were restless, and we left Delta State at the end of the semester. One of them wanted to study forestry, so we headed to State. The other wanted to see the mountains, and there was some talk about maybe trying Appalachian State next if the forestry studies didn't work out. I had shown not the slightest interest in things academic for the first year and a half of college.