It's been many years now since my daughter played T-ball (a sport based on baseball and intended as an introduction for children to develop baseball skills and have fun) at the ripe old age of four. At her first game, a little boy on her team named Cody, stepped up to the plate. He swung his bat at the ball and missed. He tried again, yielding another miss. On the third try, his bat connected with the ball and sent it flying. He was so thrilled, that instead of running to first base, he excitedly ran over to his parents for praise and affirmation. It was adorable. His dad pointed to first base and told him, "Now run to first base as fast as you can, son!" Cody, hungry for more success in his new found sport, turned and ran toward first base as fast as his little legs would carry him. And kept running. And running. And still running. Right down that foul line towards the end of the field. We all roared with laughter, as it was just about the cutest thing we'd all ever seen. I still smile when I think about it. That was the day that an enthusiastic little ball player in-the-making and his team mates learned what first base was.