By the time I was in college I could claim versatility. I could hit like a pitcher, run like a catcher, field like a designated hitter and had the sharp vision of an umpire.
In my senior year, our seminary was challenged to a game of softball by the largest dorm on campus. Since I had never played fast pitch softball, they made me umpire.
Then we played a second game of slow-pitch softball. Being from Chicago, where we played with a 16 inch ball, I thought 12 inch slow-pitch was ridiculously easy. I was the one who helped with fielding practice. As the ball was lobbed in to me I could hit it just about anywhere I wanted. Since our left fielder needed a lot of practice, I hit a lot of balls to him. After hitting line drives in front of him, he came in too much, so I hit a few over his head. The other team apparently noticed this, so in the actual game they shifted their outfielders toward left. When I got to hit for real, I just sliced one down the right field line and circled the bases, even though I was a very slow runner. That was a lot better memory from college than Latin classes.