Me too - that last phase of virtual USA-rounders didn't involve me doing much and my star boy, Charlie Marx, did an admirable job as I knew he would. I'm tempted to go for bifocals next time; probably not as much fun as seeing the blind, slow-motion swing that on mystically rare occasions causes the bat to connect with such profound power that it deforms the ball into an ovoid and propels it into high orbit, though.