The Olson twins and the aging athlete

Yeah, I used the Olson twins to hook you. This post has very little to do with them and quite a bit to do with getting old. Er. Older.

It was the last softball game of our season and my team was sitting in the dugout waiting for the rain to stop. Terri's kids were there and they kept quoting lines from Full House. So, wanting to make a little conversation, I blurted out, "Is Full House like The Brady Bunch was to us when we were growing up?" What I wanted to know was if Full House is this generation's cultural touchstone. Do kids quote certain episodes to their peers? Do kids watch the reruns over and over, finding comfort in the predictability and happy endings? Is "You're in trouble mister" the "Mom always said don't play ball in the house" of today?

My question was met with silence. Oh, they didn't hear me. Louder, "Is Full House likeThe Brady Bunch was to us growing up?" Another beat and then our pitcher frowned and said, "I watched Full House when I was little."

Thunk.

Geez, Mag, know your audience. The funny thing is is that this season in particular I have been hyperaware of being one of the older players. See, the league is for women 19 and older. Our team isn't the most egregious offender when it comes to being stocked with 19 year olds but we have our share of younger players. I guess I am not used to being one of the old ones yet. I am still shocked when I realize that some of these girls are right out of high school; high school being a lifetime or so ago to me.

What hurts isn't being old, though. It is for the first time in my life realizing that not only am I not one of the best on the team, I never will be again. This season I was put in right field. Right field! Oh, if the younger me could see this, she'd DIE of shame. One game I was even put in as catcher. Like, on other teams the catcher is frequently played by the grande dame of the team, too old to play the field, too well-liked to be told to take up golf.

No one ever talks about how the recreational athlete feels when it's time for her to hang up her cleats. I mean, as realitively old as I am, I can still hit the ball. I can still track flies. Inside, I feel so young. But I am slow,and I am carrying around 20 pounds of baby weight and two massive feedbags that these younger girls won't have to worry about for years. Do I want to play until I suck or do I retire with a shred of dignity?

What would Carol Brady do?