I played hundreds & hundreds of stickball games in the ’50’s and 60’s, and it was mostly “fungo,” which we called “hitting out.” 2 sewers was an incredible shot; on the roof = out (lost ball). The best part of the rules was that WE MADE THEM, NOT SOME LITTLE LEAGUE OFFICE SUITS! We learned how to get along–to argue, but how to give in (“Okay, cheater–you can have your way! Let’s play!), and was that ever empowering (although we never heard that word). I’m 50, and I’m ready for someone to “call on me” to play next Saturday morning! Whattayousay? I STILL have my stickball bat from Brooklyn (circa 1968)…