Last night was a softball night. We headed into the game undefeated (6-0) but let the second game of the doubleheader slip away, leaving us 7-1 on the season.
The biggest loss of the night, for me, was the loss of my youth. I know, I know, I'm 31 years old so my youth was actually gone a long time ago, but I still felt like I had something in the tank. I could still run pretty well, play solid defense and send the ball over the fence every now and then.
Well, last night that all changed. Here's a list of the things that let me know I'm not young anymore:
1. I misjudged two fly balls right away and, consequently, allowed the other team to score.
2. I hit the ball about as hard as I could and the old guy in left field easily caught it.
3. I didn't have a single hit the whole night.
4. I stretched to catch a short fly ball and it went off the tip of my mitt. I was sure I had it.
5. This is the worst of all. During an inning I was pretty sure not to bat, I volunteered to coach first base. Not much happened in our half of that inning, but as I trotted to the dugout to get my mitt, I felt a pain in my right knee. That's right, I somehow injured myself coaching first base. I could barely walk this morning when I got out of bed.
So, there you have it. I'm not young anymore. Now, this doesn't mean I'll never be any good at sports again, but the home runs, diving catches, perfect throws and extra-base hits are going to happen much less often for me.
Sad, but true.