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The Old House on Saxon
By walt | July 18, 2011
Dad said I would knock those red bricks loose if I kept pitching the hard ball against em. I’d draw a strike zone with an old sheetrock chalk on the red bricks and pitch as hard as I could; hoping some scout would drive by and see me then sign me to the minor leauge Houston Buff’s . Those dreamy summer days in the 50″s.
Most of the time my pitching practices ended abruply with a crash of broken glass windows to the right. Another wild brush back pitch flying high and way inside.
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