The Six Days A Week Sports Regiment

Since the beginning of July, as I first wrote about in last month's Old Timer Rant, I've been immersed in a 6-days-a-week sports regiment (ball hockey, lacrosse, basketball and 3 days of soccer), which I've been absolutely loving. However, this week, out of nowhere, I was suddenly blindsided by an unexpected seventh day and I've gotta tell ya things are no longer looking quite as rosy for me. In fact, now, believe it or not, I can no longer even walk to the fridge to get a beer, let alone run around a field. Though, thankfully, I can still hop.

"You know how I know you're old?" I heard myself ask myself. And I guess it did creep up on me a bit. I mean, I don't really feel any different than I did in my twenties, but recently a couple of things made me realize that I may, in fact, be older than I feel.

On January 28th we jumped on a jetty and headed over to Fort Kochi in search of Rafi and a game of soccer. We had called Rafi, the guy we'd met on the beach about 10 days earlier, that morning, but his dad had said he was out, so we headed over to the "parade ground" (sports field) in the hope of finding him and, if not him, at least a game of soccer. We arrived to not only find the depressing sight of a bloody cricket game once again taking up a perfectly good soccer field (what'd we expect, really?), but also the awful spectacle of a couple of foreigners (who turned out to be Aussies of course) joining in and encouraging the young local guys in their sad and depressing waste of life. Just as I was about to turn and leave - cursing cricket all the way - I noticed a couple of guys off to the side kicking a soccer ball around. I went straight over and joined them and over the next half hour or so many others started showing up as well. It turns out they play there every evening from around 5:30. Not on the soccer field, which is of course reserved for cricket, but over on the side of the field.