It looks like baseball, from this distance. The bat is the same. The ball is different. Apparently during the depression baseballs were cut in half, so you got more baseball for your dollar (or probably a lot less than a dollar). A game developed around these oddly-shaped balls: half-rubber. In some places in the south, it is still played, and we met a family who are enthusiasts. Because the father who invited Thomas to play with his sons came from a large family, the siblings and their children can get a pretty good game together now when they gather for family holidays in the summer.
Thomas gravitated toward the action as soon as it started, of course. His instinct that a sport is being played is uncanny. And he's instantly riveted. I was glad for the hospitality of this big family, who included him in the warm-ups and taught him how to hold a baseball bat. Thomas took to it straightaway, and would have played all afternoon and the next day, too, but we were winding up our time on Tybee and parted with great disappointment.
Our time at the beach was fantastic: a good time was indeed had by all.
