#review The oldest memory I have is of catching a baseball. Coming from a sports fan, this may sound like treacly, lump-in-your-throat stuff, but it's true. I was three years old. My father was mowing one side of our front lawn, I was standing in the other, and I underhanded a pop fly into the air. It hung up there forever and I got dizzy trying to follow it. When the ball smacked into my hands, I had no idea how I'd caught it. More »