Not that Iím complaining (or admitting anything), but all night and all morning today, I could feel everything I did yesterday. Playing so hard with the kids felt good, so the aftermath is all good, too. Thereís actually some satisfaction to the muscle tiredness I feel, and even the occasional aches in my creaky joints. The cost of having fun is a cost Iím willing to pay as often as I can. Which means, I guess, as often as Iím able to get up the next morning at all.
This being Sunday, I of course did not set my alarm and had no thought of getting up at any particular time, except that I wanted to see at least part of Ericís baseball game. Heís just started playing again, a week ago, and this game was at a high school field just a few blocks from my house. The only problem was that it was scheduled to start at 10:00 am, which on a Sunday morning might as well be 5:00 am.
So I didnít try to get up in time for the start of the game, but I managed to coax myself out of bed in time to get my weary bones to the last three innings. I saw him bat twice, and I saw him play second base, and I saw him score a run, which turned out to be the one that won the game for his team.
The quality of play was a lot higher than I remember from the team he played on last year, and it was enjoyable to watch two teams play well and hard. Itís competitive without being mean-spirited or ill-tempered. Because the minimum age in this league is 25, itís not a kidsí game. They play seriously, but they donít take it (or themselves) too seriously. And there are no loud, obnoxious parents in the stands (just mostly wives and girlfriends and at least one uncle).