Getting
older
Saturday 6 May, 2000
I'm sore from my basketball game today. Not too bad, but still sore. It's my legs mainly, and my lower back — that feels a bit fragile. I had some stamina for the game, but speed; forget it. My legs had nothing in them at times. What made it worse was we were playing an under-18 team. Their whole team was more than 20 years younger than me! I'm sure I had as much speed and fitness at their age, but I sure haven't kept it.
At times, when someone would blow straight by me on the dribble, or I'd go for a lay-up and get the ball blocked and a mouthy teenager saying, “get the fuck outa here”, I want to grab one of them, hold them up against the wall and say, “look asshole, when your my age, if you can play as well as me, come see me them and mouth off, until then, shut the fuck up and show me some respect.”
But, of course, I didn't. I would have just got laughed at for my ego-led troubles.
I guess it's good to have some arrogance in sport when you're young. When you're older, you just try your best. I comfort myself that once I get a bit fitter, my hard-won experience and cunning will be more effective. I comfort myself that we'll beat the little shits next time!
Oh, yeah. We lost.
Once I got home, we had a wonderful afternoon. Matthew was still sleeping, so after my shower Deb and I climbed into bed and snuggled. Well, snuggled until we were halfway finished (and no, it wasn't my half) and then Matthew woke up. So we brought him into the bedroom and he played around on the bed with us, reading and doing body-slams. He'd climb up on Deb's side, smiling this almost-evil kind of smile down at me, and then launch himself in a Big-Baby-Bodyslam™ down on top of me. He enjoyed it!
Tomorrow we're going to go and buy him a potty. He's ready he tells us.
Kids, they grow up so fast …