Sports watching

When I was a small child I was a participator in many physical games from softball to tossing around a football, kick ball, figure ice-skating, swimming, canoeing, bicycling and the like.
You name it, I would be out there to play it and hopefully not get injured, and yep I was the one. I enjoyed being the catcher for soft ball since I always would be the one to see the action and be part of it first hand. But even with that I got a nasty one right to the throat and got the wind knocked out of me by my fifth grade teacher, Miss Mion, wow was she scared. And sure I was alright I was young and those things don’t hurt so much then.
When tossing a football around with my good buddy Mary I caught it wrong and sure enough I broke my right middle finger and just wearing the splint was embarrassing due to its location and me being a wise gal at the age of twelve and all; I annoyed everyone by showing them my war wound and subsequently not realizing what I was doing was bad, come on I was twelve! Ah my unsuccessful Tom-boy days.
Scraped knees were the norm and bruises and nasty ouches were my second cousins. I remember one time trying a flip over jump while figure skating that landed me flat on my back at the ripe old age of thirteen while on vacation and ended me up in bed for a few days but I survived that too. And the time I was on that road trip with Mom and Dad going across country the summer of 1965 when I dove off the diving board at a hotel in Amarillo Texas and felt a strange reaction in my back that seemed to make my legs not work for quite a few minutes but I used my arms to paddle my way to the side of the pool, Mom and Dad were none the wiser until I reached the side and my voice came back, it wouldn't come out either and I told them!

As a teen after that summer of Dad’s first vacation in forever, he had owned his own businesses for over thirty-eight years by then, and we had visited forty states in eight weeks, when my older father, he was already fifty-eight with a fifteen year old, had retired he took up his joy of having the time to watch on the TV every sport that he enjoyed. Which was all inclusive of the one he played as a kid, basketball, my short dad was actually the captain of his high school team, at only five foot eight, but in those days it was a popularity contest more than anything else he told me not due to his ability, but I really think that it was due his to wonderful sense of humor and for that I am sure.

And so each weekend night that I would arrive home from a date, Dad would be watching this game or that and I would join him on the sofa he would get my details of the date during commercials and I would learn the games from his perspective. After all at this time I had been a cheerleader, only a short stint in junior high really, but this was after that. The same year I had gotten myself into a car accident with a neighbor her aunt was driving and I was a passenger but we got t-boned on my side…. Jinx here, what can I say! But that pretty much ended my cheerleading career; I was out of school that time for a few months.
To this day the only sport that still confounds me is football, not the points but the positions and hold that line reasoning and stuff of that nature. When it came to the cheer I was pretty much monkey see monkey do type gal, a copycat.

Now to the point of all this being a spectator from the comfort of your own home is rather nice when you think about it whether watching NASCAR, believe me I had been to the Daytona track for the 500 and sitting in air-conditioning beats it all to heck plus the camera angles are much better and if you miss something instant replay is just wonderful! I even had the pleasure of going to a Yankees game at the age of ten being a safety-patrol kid we all received that privilege. But being small seeing over and around people is difficult. Sorry folks nothing beats the recliner in the living room with a great temperate climate to be just right!

Today’s choice for Hubby and I was the 75th Master’s Tournament out of Augusta Georgia, and it was just won in an amazing upset by Charles Schwartzel, just twenty–six years old from South Africa with a -14! A Nike guy too!

On that note of a happy surprise let me be the first to wish you all a very happy good night and ask you to kindly count your blessings and share those overages and we will too!

And next time please be here or be square L7, ya hear?