Just about every weekend growing up, we played wall ball. Some called it box, but we always called it wall ball. Wall ball was usually two against two and you pitched to the batter who stood in front of a box painted on a wall. The box was the strike zone, whether you were 5 feet tall or 6 foot 3.
We played wall ball until some point in the mid 90s when we all got busy with marriages or jobs or university or whatever. There were two contingents: the Irish and the Maltese. The Maltese were Joe, Harold, Frank and Charles while the Irish were usually me and my two brothers. Occasionally someone else would come for a game, but the core duo was Joe and I.
When wall ball stopped happening every weekend, I remember really missing it. I loved throwing that fast ball down the middle and getting the good part of the bat on the ball and driving it over the fence. A post wall ball slurpee was the icing on the cake.
I visited one of our old wall ball fields earlier today and took this picture. It's King George, and it had a great big field for circus style Shaker Mo snags.
Here's an old photo of a wall ball game that probably took place in 1995 or 1996.
I miss wall ball.
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