Some people call it cheating. I call it being smart.
Mom was throwing the ball for my cousin Eddie and me. Eddie would stand right in front Mom, body tense, trembling with anticipation, completely convinced that he was about to win the Olympic gold medal in Ball Retrieval.
I had a different strategy. I would back up a little so I could get a head start. Genius, right?
Well.... not exactly.
It was Eddies backyard, and he knew that place like the back of his paw. Every tree, bush, hole, corner, and hiding spot was apparently stored in his brain's GPS.
I managed to get the ball every once in a while, but Eddie usually beat me to it. And just when I thought I had finally figured out his secret, I discovered his most outrageous tactic.
He had balls hidden all over the yard!
If he didn't get the ball Mom threw, he'd disappear for a second and come back carrying a completely different one.
Excuse me, Eddie, but THAT is cheating!
I was using strategy. He was running an underground ball-smuggling operation.
Still, rules are rules...or apparently, they're more like suggestions in Eddie's backyard. Either way, we had a great time, and I suppose I can forgive him...this time.