baseball field;

The roar of the crowd used to ring in the ears of child baseball players. They loved the thought of a ball heading high speed for your face. The rush of hitting wood against leather, running like your life depends on it to the next base. But the sport started to die, and the kids grew up to play pro. On the side of the baseball field are the stands, filled with old rotten food and sticky soda pop, and the dugouts where left are only old equipment and posters. Felines that take refuge here usually keep watch for prey from the stands.