"Chalk One Up for the Old Guys"

As I returned to the back corner of the dugout, there sat Dave Loomis, father of our team captain and manager Matt Loomis, with, as always, the team's scorebook in hand. This time though, he had a goofy grin on his face. As I approached, he looked at me and said, "Chalk one up for the old guys!" I chuckled as well, although somewhat breathlessly.

Here's the deal. We were only two batters into our game when I came to the plate. Our leadoff man, Alex, was already on base. As I peered across the field, I noticed the third basemen was playing a bit off the third base bag and the left fielder played me even more so toward left center field. I just wanted to put the ball in play down the line. I got a good inside pitch and did exactly that. As soon as it left my bat, I knew the line drive would be an easy double. 

As I rounded first base, I glanced toward the left field corner, It looked like the left fielder maybe took too sharp of an angle and couldn't quite cut off the ball as it headed to the fence. Now, I'm an old guy (turning 62 this December) so extra bases in softball are nowhere near as plentiful as they used to be. But hey, I can still run pretty well, you know, for an old guy. I just kept chugging. Our third base coach waved me home and I crossed the plate with an in-the-park home run, meeting my teammates with high fives and fist bumps as I entered the dugout. Then I made my way to Dave in the back corner.

Hmmm, the last time I hit a legit home run was, was...I couldn't remember. Shoulder surgery in my mid-50s precluded any such statistic so it had to be in my early 50s or even late 40s. 

Four days later, I found myself on the King Ranch Golf Course in Frenchtown, Montana, teeing it up with my son, Jace, a mutual friend, Brandon, and my brother, Alan. Little did I know but lightning was going to strike again, although in a slower, more methodical fashion. 

To make a long story shorter, I hit some marvelous (especially for me) shots on my way to a 2-over par 38. Two-over! That was my best showing since the mid to late 1990s and just two strokes off my best 9-hole score ever. Just craziness! 

The most wild part was carding back-to-back birdies for the first time in my life. On the 302-yard, par-4 third hole, my approach shot landed about six feet from the pin. That putt found the bottom of the hole. The next hole was even crazier. My 155-yard approach shot on the 407-yard, par-4 fourth hole was a 7-iron that I did not hit flush. In fact, it was more of a worm-burning scorcher but it was on line with the target. Because of the lay of the land, I did not see it once it rolled over the lip of the green but Jace yelled that it hit the flagstick. We made our way up there and sure enough, a tap-in 12-inch putt for birdie. Go figure. Chalk up another one for the old guys!

Mark Twain Got It Right

Mark Twain got it right when he said, "Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter." That's a mantra I've been riding for a number of years now. 

This past winter was the first winter of my life when I didn't play one single game of pick-up basketball, not one! I was frustrated because those guys I played with for years just plain fizzled out. But a chance encounter with a former hockey teammate led to me signing up to play in the Glacier Hockey League's spring session. Suffice it to say it was absolutely wonderful being back on the ice for the first time in 12-13 years.

When the roster came out I recognized three names - Bill Bevis, Brandon Moore and Nick Adams. I'd met Bill years ago as he maintained a pond at a city park in Missoula for ice skating. Brandon is about the same age as my oldest daughter and lived down the street from us when we lived in Lolo and Nick is a former softball teammate and foe. 

I showed up about 30 minutes before our first game and as I walked in, there was Bill. We had a nice little chat. The funny thing is after being the "old guy" playing basketball or softball, I no longer fit the bill. That's because Bill, a lifelong hockey player who played semi-pro back in the day, was 82. Eighty-two, and still playing! Then I took a few minutes to watch the ongoing game on the ice to check the skill level. I heard a couple of voices behind me and two more guys entered the rink with their hockey bags on their shoulders. The first was Brandon, our team captain. Thought I didn't know him, I recognized him. And with him was his half-brother Nick. 

In the locker room, Brandon asked what position I'd played. I said mostly center but would play wherever would best help the team. He asked me to play defense so I settled in along the blue line. Though not a great defender, I did the best I could. Our first game was a dandy. Our center followed up a rebound and put in the game-winner right at the final buzzer. From there, we struggled losing the next three in a row. 

One of them was against a team with a bit of a reputation. They played rough. Our division calls for "no checking," although body contact is a given. Still, these guys where throwing their bodies around and ramming us into the boards. They got whistled for four penalties and could've gotten another four. One time, during a dead period as the linesman was waiting to drop the puck and both teams were casually changing lines, a 6' 2" center on their team skated past me and put a shoulder into me as I stood on the blue line waiting for action to resume. I mean, really? In one motion, I reached out and slugged him between the shoulder blades as he continued to the faceoff circle. He turned around and raised his arms kinda like, "What's up with that?" Dang, I wish we could've beaten them.

With a record of 1-3, Brandon asked me in the locker room prior to our fifth game if I wanted to play center. I was all about that. "Do you want to be eased in and maybe do so by the third period?" he asked. "No, I'm ready right now. Let's go." That turned out to be a solid call. Brandon is better on the blue line with a better understanding when to jump in on offense and when to stay back. I was helping the team win more faceoffs in the other team's offensive zone so we could get more shots on net. As a team, we rallied and improved. We won our next three games 3-2, 11-0 and 7-1. That set the stage for our one-game playoff for third place in the league. 

Before we knew it, we trailed 2-0 not even six minutes into the game, and this was against a team we manhandled twice during the regular season. Our defense and goaltending stiffened, allowing our offense we take over. I put home a short slapshot from the right circle to tie the game at three. Then I went to the bench and our other center, Ryan, won the subsequent faceoff at center ice, beat a defensemen and went top shelf to put us up 4-3. We got an empty net goal to secure the 5-3 win and clinch third place, just one point out of second.

The Sweaty Sweaters (far right kneeling next to Nick, our goalie, and team captain Brandon)

It was so, so fun being back on the ice again. Having played a lot of different sports, there's just something different about hockey. I ended up scoring three goals over my last four games, all victories for our improving squad. And you bet I'm looking forward to playing with the same group this fall. Gotta love hockey...and Mark Twain's wisdom!

Grateful for my favorite fans