I don’t remember how old we were the first time my dad explained to my brother and me the layout of the bases in our small living room. I just remember that he did it before sitting in the middle of the living room and softly tossing a Wiffle ball our way. I honestly do not remember a time without baseball and the person responsible for that is my dad.
Eventually my mom made us move the game outside so we wouldn’t break anything. We started in the side yard, with my dad again calling out modified bases.