My brother and I play one-on-one on a handball court in Queens. We chalk a strike zone on the handball wall and pitch as fast as we can throw. A ball hit over the court fence and over the roof of the 7-storey apartment building across the street is a home run. I am 62 and my bro 58. We hail from the Bushwick section of Brooklyn. It’s as much fun as tennis or racquetball and a hell of a lot cheaper.