Imagine this.
You are a father taking his son to his first major-league game. You have splurged for choice seats. They are close enough to the dugout that you can hear the baseball thwack into the catcher’s glove. Your son can pick up occasional chatter from the players.
Your son has his hot dog and soda and wears his new baseball cap. You have a cold beer. It’s perfect.
Until a foul ball comes screaming off a bat at 90 to 100 mph and reaches your son’s face in less than a second. The perfect day at the ballpark has turned into a nightmare.