I think I can still toss an egg.
That was the highlight of my youthful Fourth of July sports skill on the streets of Little Norway.
I couldn’t catch one, but oh how I could hurl that store-bought projectile to my partner.
Unfortunately in egg tosses, you are not supposed to be the greatest pitcher in the world and you need to be a decent catcher.
Thus, my egg-tossing teammates were unsuspecting visiting relatives or young girls with crushes.
Even then my reputation as a lousy teammate grew. I had to find entrance in other festive day sports.