"Hut 1, hut....ike"

Caption: "Come on Paul. We're just getting started."

 

 

I look back on this story now with some awe. It was truly a different time. So this is what's meant by another ERA?

 

For instance, it was around, but the drive towards health enmasse wasn't there?

 

Drinking was clearly more casual.  And beer was way out front as a choice. And while not talked about in this story, smoking was generally accepted...and that included smoking at your desk in the work place. Non smokers were the ones who had to go outside. I was not the only member of the "smoke WHILE you jog" club.

 

Lifting weights consisted of taking the trash out once a week. "Six Pack Abs" just meant that is where you kept your beer.

 

Before I get too far off track, this is not a comment on the relative values of either era. It is just a clear document to me that we have clearly moved on. Therefore, let us move on to:   

 

 

                    ATHLETE’S ANONYMOUS

                                  Part 2

 

Let’s get one thing clear. We have, in fact, participated in the artful play of jogging, golf, tennis and skiing. It’s just that we’ve always had a little different take on the fundamentals and rules of these games. Explain? Okay!

 

Jogging:  As joggers, we see no good reason to be up before the Sun. And we see no good reason to be going though all that heavy exertion in bad weather. We jog when conditions are perfect. That typically translates into about two weeks out of the year.  And you know? Maybe jogging is the wrong term to describe what we do.? Coach always told us the quickest way to get into shape is to run wind sprints. So that’s pretty much what we do on those days. How to spot us?

 

Look for us around 10 am in the morning on a holiday or weekend, hugging an oak or elm tree. Do not interpret this to be a form of perversion. We are just hanging on for dear lifeafter elevating our heart rates for two blocks. You will never find us in groups. This is no time for peer pressure to be applied.

 

If and when we get back to the front porch? Look for the guy wearing his high school gym shorts over the top of his tattered sweats. The dog is there waiting. Fido has been back for half an hour and wants to play.

 

Now I’ve already indicated Tennis is not our game. However, we’ve dabbled in it. When? Typically around midnight after downing a few beers. The rackets are the same ones we stole from the tennis players brave enough to cross our football field back in high school. The average number of strings left on a racket? Five!

 

The ball we get from Fido who has been chewing on it for about six months. Warm up? Why? We try a few times to hit the ball into the court, but discover we are more adept at seeing how far it can fly. If we’ve had enough beer, this typically disintegrates into seeing if we can hit each other with the ball. Soon the ball loses all capacity for flight. That reduces us to turning our tennis rackets into epees and we have a few sword fights. None of this lasts long. That’s Tennis!

 

Now Golf. We have tons of fun on golf courses. We typically start on the 19th hole to loosen up. We are not the kind of citizens you can convince that golf is a finesse game. It’s a power game and that is the way we play it. Most of us can REALLY drive off the tee. We can really drive off the tee right into the rough. Then it’s a real male bonding thing to form a safari and go looking for the ball. We play a sort of elimination tournament. If you lose you’re ball, your out. We have a rule that if anybody hits his ball into a water hazard, he has to wade in a get it. But that’s not all. We don’t let him out of the water until he’s got a ball for all of us. Starters don’t like us much because we don’t let people play through. We don’t think that’s polite. And we have ways of dealing with rude golfers. Golf for us is a dawn to dusk affair. So we don’t hit the links very often.

 

Skiing is definitely not for us, or anyone within three miles of our effort. We are the guys, who, when tired of hanging on to a rope tow, just let go? We can be seen laughing uncontrollably as we are knocking off skiers below us like bowling pins.

Lessons? Why? We just get to the top of the hill, spread the sticks apart, and “let ‘er rip!” We are bit hard to spot skiing. We spend a lot of time in emergency rooms and bars with our lift tickets torn in half. We don’t ski much because of the long recuperation time.

 

But there are activities where we are far more identifiable as somebody you know. I’ve saved those revelations for the final chapter. Maybe after you identify us, you’ll want to organize an intervention or two.  See you tomorrow.