Way back when, a friend and I were sitting behind the wired backstop to the church camp’s dusty softball field, playing chess on a small travel board, while waiting for the game in progress to end.

We had cleverly positioned ourselves so both of us could watch the softball game while playing the grand game of chess. 

Then it happened. 

Later investigations revealed a misplayed softball had found a hole in the backstop just big enough to allow it through with no loss of velocity before ricocheting off my previously unbroken nose. 

And that’s the gospel truth.