"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!