A fistful of berries

Spring signifies many things to many people. To some, it’s a sad sequel to the harshness and honesty of winter. Or maybe you despise Old Man Winter and his capriciousness or uncanny resemblance to one, Kristopher J. Kringle. To others, it’s a great time to learn a foreign language. If that language is spoken by a bird incessantly chirping just outside your bedroom window. Whether you genuinely welcome springtime or loathe its annual arrival, there’s no argument that seasonal food is that much fresher. Not so much to eat - though you’re free to do that – but to hurl, toss and chuck. Throwing fruits and vegetables, especially now in the absence of professional sports, is pretty much all we have in terms of exercise and friendly competition. But before heading into your backyard with a crateful of produce and a bullseye, it’s wise to objectively assess each natural projectile. 

Tomatoes are a timeless classic. Long before booing, heckling and Bronx cheering became the trendy way to stop the onslaught of alternative comedy, these bright red juicers gave voice to the voiceless. You didn’t write a five-paragraph persuasive essay to your local rag when the cellist on stage butchered the Brandenburg Concerto. You waited for a lull in the performance and quickly fired one of these babies right into their f-hole.

Apples are a good size for the average palm, easy to grip and when pulverized, release a satisfying spreading of little pieces of fruit. 

Onions give you a lot to cry about. They are, like us, full of layers and complexity. But they squish at a moment’s notice 

Oranges possess the one thing that every ball-like object needs: pulp. While we’ve been sold the erroneous idea that there’s only one proper way to freshly squeeze orange juice. And that’s through a countertop contraption. You want juice? Throw one of these guys against a wooden fence and see what happens. You won’t be disappointed. Nor will you be thirsty any longer. 

Long before activists decided to trade in their mink coats for kale scarves, the hottest, most versatile item at checkout was the avocado. But when thrown, it’s a dangerous little fella. With a pit, not unlike the center of a baseball, they pack a hard punch. 

Berries are ineffectual when tossed alone. To make an impact, you’re going to want to grab a fistful of them. But doing so isn’t in the same spirit as the aforementioned snacks. There are many, many others.

They are snacks. That’s the trouble with most sports. Atheltics make us hungry. But try chewing on a baseball for nourishment. They call footballs “the ol’ pigskin,” but eating one is hardly the same as chowing down on a slab of bacon. This is where fruit and vegetables have a decided advantage over most sports’ balls. You’ll stay fresh if there’s fresh produce in your pocket. 

Don’t even think about going the Gallagher route. I believe that if the suspendered doofus had chosen to throw watermelons like an Olympic shotput event, he’d be thought of on equal footing with the likes of George Carlin. Instead, the mustachioed menace took the easy way out – grabbing a mallet to do a hand’s job.