Remember when you were a kid (assuming you were a kid about 30 years ago) and getting constantly peppered with flyers from the police, your teachers and your Cub Scout den mother about the dangers of blasting caps? I do. I didn’t understand it then, and I don’t understand it now. Was I really going to find a cache of blasting caps and high explosives lingering around my suburban neighborhood? Would anything that cool ever possibly happen? No. it wouldn’t. Maybe other parts of the country were different. Perhaps little Johnny Cheesehead in Wisconsin grew up to be Johnny No-Nose. I don’t know. But I do know this is a sweet PSA from Mr. Baseball himself, Willie Mays.