A baseball weights 5.2 ounces. The American football three times that. These objects are made to soar, propelled independently by hands, feet or with assists from bats or other sporting instruments. Decades of design tweaks and variations have perfected their potential for distance and accuracy. The baseball alternating between rubber and cork centres; the MLB siding with whatever material’s latest technological advancement would send it the furthest. The football moving from inflated animal bladders to balls made of vulcanized rubber, for obvious reasons.
Neither balls, however, compete with the natural throwing competency of the cantaloupe. The man in the middle of the street proving this as he hurls a medium-sized one (roughly three-pounds) nearly ten-yards, over a string of parked cars, and onto the head of another man. The sound of melon-on-melon an anticlimactic thud. No theatric explosion of tasty orange fruit and roar of the home team crowd. Just a whimper and a curse as the cantaloupe rolls underneath a Camry.