I wonder what the story is behind this lost baseball. When I was a kid, a baseball was a valuable object. If I lost one it was because either I or one of my friends hit it over a fence or the result of a foul ball hit into deep bushes off the side of the field. We would never, and I mean NEVER, have left a baseball lying in an open field. But that is exactly where I found this ball. In the middle of Pacific Crest Park. And it is exactly where I left it. I’m hoping the story behind this lost baseball has a happy ending.
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