Last night was the third game of the basketball league I just got involved in after not playing at all for several years. While I have been in some of the best shape of my life of late… well… let’s just say my hoop skills are not what they once were. I mean, not even within the same ZIP code. It’s not that I was amazing at any time in my life, but I was a solid outside shooter, played good defense and could push the ball decently well on a fast break.
Now? Hoo boy. It’s not just the skills being rusty, but the lack of confidence in not playing in such a long time. Well, that and the fact that I really don’t want to put my team in a bad spot… which probably just makes me more tentative. Kind of a vicious cycle.
After I subbed out with a few minutes left to play and watched the rest of the game from the sidelines, I had a strange moment of reflection. I had to make a choice: (a) work harder on my game; (b) accept the state of my game as it is; or (c) or hang up the sneakers entirely.
I had a moment like this playing soccer this past Fall. I found myself not keeping up with the forwards I had to cover or getting winded too easily. I am someone who has a lot of athletic pride, so the notion of just accepting things as they were was simply untenable to me… at least in soccer. Also, I really was not ready to go gentle into that good night by playing in a less competitive league… so the decision there was to get myself in better shape or stop all together. I went with a personal ass-kicking and the results (at least for the indoor soccer I have been playing) have been great.
But these moments I experienced are likely not going to be passing things. At the delightful age of 37, they will only return and likely with shorter and shorter intervals between them. While I certainly do not feel like I am 37 in terms of my outlook or how I feel, I know that there is a certain inevitably that comes with the wisdom of years.
Part of this is a matter of life getting in the way. We get older and have more job and family responsibilities… we get a little bit more sedentary… play our sports just a little bit less… and then the years slip by and you end up standing on the sidelines of your rec basketball league wondering what in the name of all that’s holy happened to your jump shot.
In fact, I am stubborn about the notion that the problem with aging and athletics is really a lot less about the physical changes from time and more about the reduction in total activity. Of course, it’s totally possible I view it this way because this is a philosophy whereby renewed effort should be able to return some of the sparkle of former glory… and I want my sparkle back.
So for the foreseeable future, I will not go gentle into that good night and will rage, rage against the dying of the light. I have no reason to give up… no reason to quit… and truth be told, few things stir my blood like a good challenge.
And this challenge? Oh this challenge is a good one for me.
And this will be my anthem:
Everybody gets knocked down. How quick are you gonna get up?