My “baseball academy” as a kid was loading up these items onto the handlebars of my bike and playing 8 hours of unsupervised games at a park with the friends I called using a rotary phone with a cord...
“Mom, wherever there's a cop beating a guy. Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries. Where there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air. Look for me, Mom, I'll be there.”
My favorite army man is the guy who’s just chilling on the phone. “Hey, boo, what’s up? Aw, I’m just in some stupid kid’s fucking battle right now. I think we’re fighting Weeble Wobbles or some shit. Yeah, totally, hit me up later.”