'You do that move well...you make it look really good.' My teacher smiled, and I really believed him. Taking a break between sets of kobudo basics, we had just done 'baseball' swing. I thought about it for a moment, about baseball, and it brought back memories.

'Can I play?' It was another summer Saturday morning in the early '60's. Another baseball game played in a factory parking lot by the kids on Kensington street. And it was the question I asked every Saturday.

'NO! Girls don't play baseball! But you can watch if you want to.' I looked at the mitt I'd 'borrowed' from my cousin, hoping it would gain entry into 'the game'. Then I glanced over at the designated onlooker area...a chain link fence that several girls had already perched on.

'But I have a mitt...maybe you could use someone in the outfield?' Again, the answer was 'No.' 'Besides...we have enough players.' The boys returned to the game, and I made my way to the fence, being careful to avoid the sharp, unbent ends of the fence, as well as the cold stares of the other girls.


'And you do that move well on both sides.' Brought back to the present, decades slipped away, and I looked at my teacher's quizzical expression.

I smiled back. 'Yes, I really like that technique. It feels good.'