Samson is absolutely crazy for baseball. We probably spent 20 hours throwing, hitting, and catching this weekend. Not to mention all the tobacco chewing.
When he's in the batter's box, which moves in direct response to the direction he is facing after he swings, watch out. I have to say I'm impressed about how good he is in not getting frustrated when he misses. But he expects you (or more directly, me) to get the ball he's just missed. The rationale: "I have the bat in my hands."
However, when he hits it---which is actually pretty often---he then likes to chase after it. Also, he's not so good with the tee. In fact, and I'll need to check with the good people at Elias, I think Samson recorded the first-ever bunt from a tee over the weekend.
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Needless to say, I know where Sam gets it from. I get itchy plams every February to get a bat in my hands and hit some softballs. But Sam doesn't take after Vicki's Mom. She like to hit the ball but never like to play on the defensive side of the ball.
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