When I played Little League I was terrible. When I played basketball in junior high I was terrible. Then I played in a softball league one summer while I worked at CMU. I was terrible.
The other day I was saying this to KR and she said no, I was good at softball. How could that even be?
Maybe like this: A few years ago KR and I were walking in Squirrel Hill and I stepped into Beacon against the light to see if there were any cars coming so we could cross. She grabbed my arm and I jerked away violently. It frightened her and me too. It had been a purely reactionary, involuntary, unfiltered action in response to KR's protective move. I think of that moment every time I cross that street.
And KR has no recollection of it.
Memory funny.