The End, I Think...
I'm going to go ahead and get straight to the topic, I'm getting older and it sort of stinks a bit to admit it. There was a time, albeit ten to fifteen years ago when I thought I'd be able to run forever, catch a football forever, or better yet trick the youngsters on the futbol pitch, forever.
Tonight at the tender age of forty something, I pulled my hamstring for the umpteenth time in the last five years or so. This single act took place after eight glorious minutes of play on the basketball court (note to the readers, I haven't played organized basketball in ten years). Tonight, my stats went something along the lines of one assist, two rebounds, one tuuuuurrrrible airball from close range, one airball from the 3pt line, OH and one tweak of the left hamstring which immediately caused me to mutter, "What am I doing out here?"
I personally think I'm a little too young to call it a day in order to start working on my old man bod but all signs point to the end being in sight. C'mon now, I was the one who was absolutely torching guys on the football fields yesterday and now I'm the one looking for the torch, well perhaps just the Icy Hot!
Is this the part where I cry for my wife to show me a bit of lovin'? "Hey babe, can you give me a little help here please... Babe... Hey uh, babe, can you apply this... Where are you going... Babe." Don't pay any attention to me, I'm not married and if I were I'm smart enough to know that my wife wouldn't assist in the healing process instead I'd more than likely receive the, "You're not young anymore, you need to stretch out properly" speech. Thank goodness I'm not married; I'm still apprehensive about letting my mom know though.
I think I'll take up walking for now, preferably on a beach in Asia somewhere or perhaps in Hawaii. Tonight might have been the night where I retired ,quietly, in front of twelve guys whom I've known and who've known me during my electrifying run of athleticism. There weren't any speeches, balloon drops, or family present for this retirement however, I left my sweaty wristband in the corner of the gym (it has my initials on it); perhaps a kid will find it next week and wonder who lost it... the athleticism of course not so much the wristband.