Once during batting practice back in my softball days, I was fielding ground balls at third base when the batter hit a line shot one-hopper that took a bad hop and hit me square in the nose. The next thing I remember was coming to with my teammates around me and a pool of blood on the infield dripping from a very sore proboscis.

We did get the bleeding stopped after a few minutes, and (whether wise or not) I went back out and took my position at third base.

That’s when I learned that I had a real friend. The guy taking batting practice did something that only a real friend would do. He looked at me, made sure we made eye contact, and proceeded to hit the next three or four balls in my direction, doing the best he could to get those balls on the ground and directly hit at me.

That might not sound like a friendly thing to do given that just a few minutes before I was prostrate face down in the infield dirt. But I took it for the gesture it was meant to be. We both understood what he was doing, and neither of us had to explain it to the other.

A number of years later I was recounting this incident to him, and in his Oklahoma-style way he nailed the theory. “You needed to get back up on that horse.” We both understood. The best thing to do in that situation was to face the same challenge again and succeed at it before I had a chance to think about it.

Bucked off the horse? Get right back on and ride some more.