For excitement I chase Jimmy, the cat, around the house. If we both time it just right, Jimmy goes running into the living room through one door and I through the other, and Jimmy comes flying up over the back of an easy chair—with his vertical leap, if he were 6'4" he could spot up on top of the glass—and whump, hits me right in the numbers. And I wrap him up, as they say in coaching clinics, so it's sort of like a tackle, but it's also like catching a pass, and a little bit like Yogi jumping into Don Larsen's arms after the World Series perfect game.
Then Jimmy goes wairrrr and wiggles away. But solid contact has been made, on the fly, and that is the essence of—
"Wait a minute. That's what you do now? For excitement? Chest-bump a cat?"