When I was in second grade handball was all the rage.  We played it with big red rubber balls against backboards on the playground.  One day I was playing against Amy Watson, a third grader, and she went for it- hit an ace, leaving the ball very low to the ground.  I was not about to be shown up by a “big kid” so I launched myself toward the ball as if I were sliding into home plate.  I slid right across the asphalt on my nose.  I stood up in pain, half embarrassed, half proud of my all out attempt.  Turning to Amy Watson, I asked, “Is there a mark?”  Looking straight at me she replied, “No, I don’t see anything.”  Unconvinced I ran to the bathroom to see for myself.  There down the whole length of my nose was a huge scrape.  All the skin was gone.  “How could she not see that,” I thought.