The Game is Over

OK, so the football game is over and I survived, somewhat.

One of the boys brought three friends from the football team to play. We pointed out that the Boy Scout Insurance would not cover them and there was too many liability issues for them to play. “If someone got hurt . . .” was the common refrain. The only people we imagined being hurt by these brutes were us old folks.

The game started early and I missed the first couple of plays. In fact, seeing the game started I rushed in from the sidelines and immediately intercepted the ball to a chorus of “where did he come from?”

That was an error on my part as I now held the ball, and wore no flags. Some industrious youth, not concerned for my health hit me right in the thigh where my car keys were. This gave me a painful charlie horse for the rest of the game, eliminating any hope for speed throughout the game.

Later, I attempted to grab the flag of their remaining football team member. He attempted to stop this by running me over. He was successful and had the added bonus of bending several fingers in my left hand backwards. I can now type with only 7 ½ fingers. Those that know me will recognize this as an improvement.

Despite these maladies I made several one handed catches and another interception. Steve, the football player, asked me in some astonishment, “Where did you get those hands?” The boys started calling out where I was and made sure that someone “had me”. That is quite a point of honor for an old slow man.

Oh, that first interception? I followed it up with a reception and fumble just 10 feet from their goal line leading to their first touchdown. The Patriots won’t be calling any time soon.