And then all hell broke loose. Fists were flying, kicks connecting, skin bitten, hair pulled, groins kneed, eyes gouged, ears pulled, noses bloodied, necks wrung, feet stomped on, faces scratched, heads butted, and ankles sprained.
It had been years since Roger had attended a Little League game, and he was loving every minute of it. He joined in with the rest of the crowd’s rowdy behavior, tossing a half-filled tub of buttered popcorn high into the air.
Down on the field, the young ball players could do nothing but bury their faces in their gloves, embarrassed at the adults’ childlike behavior.