One of the greatest years of my life was playing Wiffle Ball every day in the Ferguson driveway of my buds, the Funke brothers, using the batting stances of the Cardinals and Tigers from the World Series. Mrs. Saylor's front yard across the street was the home run marker. Any bomb landing on her porch was worth an extra run, and that wooden corkball bat could really launch those baseball-size Wiffle Balls. Jackie H., Diane H., and Gayle O. from up the street would come down to watch us preen for their attention.
How I wish I could have this guy build a replica of Busch Stadium #1 (Sportsman's Park) in my yard, so I could launch some bombs toward the screen-fronted right field roof: https://www.nytimes.com/athletic/641966 ... Id=7541559
Your Ultimate Wiffle Ball Venue
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