. . .And then his lanky, now a bit of a wiseacre, dark-haired, thirteen-year-old son kicked the new size 4 ball over his head – and over the goal – into Dutch Buffalo Creek, which formed the farthest property line of their Mount Pleasant (NC, USA) back yard. The father had been practicing soccer/football with his son for about twenty minutes on a mild March Saturday morning before the ball went splash in the still-sediment-laden, slow-flowing drink. “You toed it again, Billy,” John told his son. “You’ve got to strike the ball higher – and without using your big toe – to keep it down, son. Even a regulation soccer goal’s crossbar is only eight feet [2.44 meters] high.” “Yeah, yeah; I know, dad.”. . . Read More