As I grew up playing baseball every summer from fifth or sixth grade onwards, I became known around my neighborhood and on my baseball team as a hitter. Not a power hitter mind you, but a solid hitter who nearly always got a base hit and my coach often used me to drive home runs. One summer was particularly dry and that day was particularly hot so the entire ballpark was hot. There was barely any wind in addition and I was sweating as much as a ******* could sweat which made my old aluminum bat especially slippery (old wrap and no batting gloves). There was a runner on third and I had already gotten a strike or two and a couple balls when a huge gust of wind hit the batter's box and a virtual whirlwind of dirt enshrouded the catcher, the ump, and me. After it cleared away I was pretty sure I was blind in one eye but I swear something about that dirt made my swing stick and I hit the ball clear into center field and was able to drive the run home and got one of my few doubles ever.