The Ball

As a member of Cub Scout Pack 33, I was assigned automatically to a baseball team—even though I hated baseball, because I sucked at baseball—and so didn’t give baseball a second thought until I learned we’d won it all, and that I was to be awarded . . . a baseball.
     My mother suggested I give it to Eddy, my friend, who, although he’d not been on my team, had certainly worked harder than me. Except I wanted the ball and felt, in a way, I’d done my part, because we certainly wouldn’t have won had I bothered to show up.