Stoop ball is a baseball like game played with a tennis ball which is thrown against a stoop , or stairs which go up toward a house entry.
Our stoop was at 814 Pinewood Ave. in Schenectady, New York.
The “batter” throws the ball at the stoop and the opposing player in the field tries to catch the ball as it caroms off the stoop. The best shot hits the edge of the step and travels a long distance, a good hit.
I was in the field, Dickie Goodman was the batter. He hit a pretty good one out over the lawn to my right. I made a pretty good leap to catch it.
My father and I were sitting on the beach on Hilton Head Island in South Carolina. We had played golf together and were now basking in the early summer sun. Our relationship could best be described as “strained”.
He stared at my left calf and said, “You still have that scar from the fence.”
“Yeah, it’s still there.”
It was a long jagged scar , about six inches long, still very visible after thirty years.
My father had built a little fence to protect the new lawn and used a pretty high gauge wire, where it had been cut it was quite sharp. That wire caught my leg and made a surgical incision which I did not feel.
Dickie said, “Man your pants are ripped!”
I looked down at my school slacks and indeed they were ripped. I pulled them up and my calf was opened wide, an artery was visible and fat and muscle around it. It did not hurt and was not bleeding.
Dickie said,” Jesus, I’m getting Ruth” and ran up the stairs.
I sat on the ground studying my anatomy.
My Dad said “I should have used string on that fence.”
“Dad it’s ok, it wasn’t a big deal.”
I was touched by his guilt after all these years.