I knocked a kid out when I was in 9th grade. I don't think he deserved it. It just happened. We were playing baseball. I was up to bat. He was catching. Here comes the pitch. I take a cut at it with more swing than a $5 thousand dollar Rainbow Play system. Bam! I connect. As soon as I hit it I start to run. In the process I didn't set the bat down, I just let go of it. The bat flew unobstructed with full force until, my then buddy, Jim Sandburg interrupted its flight path with his face. oops. My bad. He was out quicker that Gen. Petraeus after a date night slumber party. Everyone gasped. I was stopped short of 1st base, (As often happens to me.) Jim laid a waste on home plate, (Another place I don't get to near often enough.) He was out colder than Melissa Etheridge at a surprise screening of "Magic Mike". After about a dozen stitches, a little creative dentistry, and some sincere apologies our friendship seemed to be back on track. Some people just aren’t meant to play baseball. Were you ever involved in a sporting accident? Not your fault, right!?