As a child I had my share of going to watch my Dad play softball. I’ve always heard the older guys griping and complaining about not being able to do this and that anymore, feeling pains in places you didn’t know existed, having to arrive at the ballpark an hour early to start stretching, wanting to play catcher so you didn’t throw your arm out, etc. Here I am now, right smack in the middle of the mix, assuming the role of one of those old farts. After a season of softball, a double-header last night, and a lose-this-one-you’re-out double elimination second game tonight……..I am almost hoping we lose so I can put the nail in the coffin for the season, lol. Actually, I enjoy playing and would much rather win so my spirits are somewhat uplifted. There’s nothing worse than becoming an old fart and leaving a season bitter! What kind of a life is this?