I grew up in a crowded city neighbor hood, with each house having it's own tiny yard, fenced off from the neighbor, with an alley running in between houses of each city block. It was considered impolite to go in someone else's yard. But sometimes playing baseball in the alley, a ball would end up in someone's yard. No one complained if we went to retrieve a ball from a yard in that case, but one old guy would go nuts when we went to get a ball from his yard.
One time he took the ball and refused to let us have it until someone's parents made him give it back. One time, we presumably posed a dire threat while playing ball, and he came into the alley with a bucket of water, which he threw on home plate, and told us to go play somewhere else. It was a cement alley, so two gallons of water had absolutely no effect on the game, and one of my older friends told him he missed a spot that was still dry, which of course was every where else than home plate. I never wanted to ever be that old guy.
So we have less patience with them.
