The first big impressive word I learned at a rather young age was ambidextrous.

When walking to the plate at my first tee-ball practice, I hesitated for a moment not sure which batter’s box to step in. Am I right-handed or left-handed? The only thing I knew for sure is that I was confused. My coach, with a concerned look on his face, ran over to me and asked, “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Which side do I hit from?”

He smiled and said, “Either one. Whatever feels the most comfortable.”

I thought about it for a moment and innocently offered, “But both of them feel comfortable!”

“Aw, that’s okay. You must be ambidextrous.”

“Yeah, I must be.” Yeah, what he said.

The end of this story is that I went home and told Mom and Dad that I loved tee-ball and I learned that I was amphibious. But this story was the beginning of a life-long search, never quite knowing if I’m a lefty or a righty. Here are my experiences to date.

I did find out that I bat and throw a baseball left-handed. This goes for basketball and football. The few times I’ve gone bowling, I nailed the gutter every time left-handed. However, I play tennis right-handed. I kick a soccer ball with either foot. I shoot pool right-handed, although, if finesse, strategy or a trick shot presents itself, I’ll shoot from the left side. The first couple of years I went hunting, I always shot from the right shoulder. But then early one mornin’ when the sun didn’t shine, I heard some rustling to the right of me and that big oak tree was not going to let me “scope up” right-handed, so I went lefty. I didn’t get anything that year but I did find out that I shoot just as good from the left side as I do from the right. But that still ain’t saying much for fine marksmanship!

I eat with my right hand but I prefer my drink on the left side. I write with my right and wear my watch on my right wrist. I brush my teeth with my right, can effectively sweep out my garage holding the broom from either side, and when buying a new pair of shoes, I always try on the left shoe. When I cross the street, I’m never sure which way to look first so I only use crosswalks on one way streets.

And here’s the most complex: Golf. I drive and hit all my irons from the right side but come time to putt, I switch to the left side. For those of you keeping score at home, when I hit in a sand trap, I pick up the ball with my right hand and throw it on the green with my left. Okay, so I stretched it a little bit here, but nonetheless, if you’re playing golf with me it can get pretty confusing!

I coached a 13-year old baseball team one year and one of the kids was in awe of my subtle ability to hit from both sides of the plate. “How cool is that that you can hit from either side!” Well, quite honestly, it’s only cool if you can really pull it off. And I never could “really pull it off.” Any base hits, home runs and first-place trophies that I have were all earned from the left side. So I regretfully shook my head to that impressed little leaguer and offered, “Hit from whichever side you can get on base with. People pay to see you get on base; not how you get there.” About that time, another coach walked up behind me and said, “That’s right. It’s all about what you do; not how you do it.”

And you now, as long as what you do is the right good thing, it really doesn’t matter much how you do it. Although, I still wished I could’ve hit just one home run from the right side to brag to my grandkids about one day!