When we were young, we could make a ball field, or hockey arena, pretty much anywhere.
Across the road from Eric’s house there was a field, with some large rocks arranged in a rough diamond. Though pretty small, we’d often play ball there, especially when we only had a few people as the small size worked better.
On one particular day, and while I don’t remember the date, I know it was likely in the 80s as it was an election day, and mom was working as returning officer in the old school in Apsey Brook. So it was before it was torn down. I remember this because as events unfolded, I ended up driving in to show her the results of my encounter…
We often used to play ball with those old red and blue and white sponge balls, but this particular day, we were using a hockey ball. And not one of the softer ones, it had absolutely no give whatsoever. And it “encountered” me.
For anyone that remembers, the field was approximately between where Barry’s house and Eric’s houses are now I think, and we used to pitch from about 20 feet (if that) away.
I had just gotten new glasses from Dr. O’Halleran in Clarenville, not sure if same day, but not too long before. Eric and I, and I think maybe Bernard and Craig and Jim might have been there on the field. I was pitching to Eric, and he smacked the ball hard, right back at me, and right square in the glasses.
I remember looking down and the twisted mess and thinking, “Oh No, my new glasses” until I saw the blood start dripping on my sneaker.
The frame of the glasses had dug into my face making a circular cut all round my eye, and a nice bruise and swelling already starting.
A week or so later, Eric said he could count 7 colours there! So there lies the face of many colours story!