This is the best article I’ve read this summer because it reminds me so much of the summers of my youth.
Home plate was a grassy patch behind our house. From there, the fence in center field measured the same as the fence in left and right — about triple the length of our clothesline. That’s how it is, you see, when the outfield fence is a chain-link fence that separates the back yard from the alley. Behind the fence were our trash cans, the color of silver turned rust. They stood alongside the crumbled concrete where the noisy garbage truck would pass. Weeds would stand up to its wheels. Beyond the weeds were the neighbor’s trash cans, and chain-link, and back yard with the dogs.