Revisiting an oldie but goodie

Baseball is a young man's game. No doubt about it.

Oh, we -- the senior, over 60 player -- kid ourselves into thinking we're young, but deep down we  know the clock is ticking and our skills are leaving us, wavering...ready to blow away in the wind.

Yet, we still step to the plate and await the next pitch. For some of us on the Tucson Old Timers (TOTS) -- the oldest organized baseball team in the country, we try desperately to make every play, throw out every player at first base, run down every fly ball in the outfield and cradle the catch with a smile on our face.

We do this three days a week, 52 weeks out of the year and some of us add a few more games to our yearly total by competing in the MABL/MSBL World Series in Phoenix, every October -- a diehard TOT can play 175 games a year and step to the plate over 600 times.

Those are major league numbers, although the players in the majors gain their totals in seven months, we do ours in 12.

Of course, being retired helps get those numbers up. Some members of the TOTS, the players between 60 and 65, are still working...still bringing home the dough, while the bulk of the players sit back and get used to the fixed income.

If I didn't play ball and pound away on the computer with my daily writings, I'm not sure what I'd do with myself. I've left the fast-paced world behind. I leave all that hustle and bustle to my 40-something sons, who battle daily with mortgages, home repairs, college tuition...and the daily routine of getting up every morning and going to work.

I turn 69 in less than a month, just a year away from 70! There is no longer a race against time. The clock on the night stand no longer rattles at four in the morning. Instead, I awake every morning, read the paper and begin my day. I'm no longer a bowling ball, rolling down the interstate -- heading for an eight, or nine...or ten-hour shift, instead: I'm more like a bunch of drifting leaves, bouncing around...looking to fill up all the hours in a day.

Being retired takes some getting used to, but as the years fly by, you get the hang of it and you find ways to fill up the day. In my case, and for most of my fellow teammates on the TOTS, we have baseball. My life started with baseball as a six-year-old and the jury is still out on how long I will play the game. Will it be deep into my 70s, or 80s...or 90s?

Like those drifting leaves, I, along with my teammates, will bounce our way to the ball park and play for the "love of the game". We will continue to do so until the wind decides not to blow and the leaves lose their steam.

Until then, "batter up!"

Note: I blogged the above five years ago...it still rings true today...the TOTS keep on swinging.