Dre, can you bunt?

Brian was the best player on our neighborhood baseball team. He was a year older than me, and was a serious player. He was a starting pitcher at his high school. And he was also kind of a dick. Brian was the kind of person who I would verbally attack and clown mercilessly these days, if I had a good reason.

I was in high school myself, too, but not even thinking about joining the varsity baseball team, mainly because I sucked at baseball. That was a good enough reason. 

After I struck out -- again -- in one of our neighborhood league games, Brian asked me the bunting question on the bench in front of a couple other players. Everyone on the team knew me for striking-out habit, thus Brian could have been seen as trying to help me and the team by asking his question. And as I said, Brian was, clearly, our best player. But Brian asked the question in quite a condescending way. Plus, Brian's personality was more apt to complain about a less-skilled teammate than offer any useful, constructive help to said player.

Like I said, Brian was a jerk. A damn good baseball player. And a jerk.

(If you don't know: in baseball, a bunt is when a batter makes the slightest contact with the ball so it travels a few feet, usually somewhere between the location of the pitcher and catcher -- see the image accompanying this post. The idea is, the batter who bunts will try and get to first base before the pitcher or catcher can retrieve the ball and throw the batter out at first base. Bunting is utilized by speedy players who trust their ability to outrun the defense’s fielding, or as a “sacrifice” by a batter to help move an already-on-base teammate on to the next base, i.e. from first base to second base, while the bunter himself is throw out at first base. The below video explains it well enough.)