My son gets faster and stronger, and I get slower and weaker. This year I've realized that if he takes off
running, even if I try, I might not be able to catch him. (This is so much of a
psychic shock that, in the previous sentence I had to use the verb “might.” I
can't bring myself to write the truth outright.) I used to play basketball
against him left-handed to make it challenging, a la Inigo Montoya. Then a month ago, he beat me straight-out at
HORSE even after I stopped fooling around and switched hands.
He has mastered a tricky top of the garden wall shot and, in that
game, hit it 8 times in a row. So,
unless I simply want to accept my decline, I need to take a break from non-essential activities, like blogging and work, and concentrate on my shooting skills (and my dodge-ball, tag, and slip-and-slid
techniques).
I think I still have a few good years left to be in the game(s),
but it will take a commitment. I'll start posting again in August.
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