Got this note from a long-time, many-time NTL Weekend Camper (mostly Santa Barbara but he got up to Portland NTL once, too).
“So about a month ago I decide to get a little cardio work in anticipation of Santa Barbara on a Saturday afternoon. There is a very popular hiking trail in the mountains near my house that is 3 miles up a steep trail to a peak overlooking LA. I walk up the hill at a brisk pace and then start jogging down. I’m about halfway down and pass a young couple (in their mid 20s probably) heading up the hill. As I go past them I hear the young man say to the girl: “I get really inspired when I see old guys like that trying to stay in shape.” First time anyone has ever seriously referred to me as being old. Devastated my ego.
Switching direction for a minute I need to tell you about how my son broke my heart. I’d been coaching him at the local YMCA youth basketball league since he was 5 years old. In 5th grade tells me that he doesn’t like basketball anymore and is going to quit playing. Broke my heart. But you gotta let your kids make those kinds of decisions for them-self so I say fine as long as he picks some other sport. Over the next couple years he tries some other youth sports and in his freshman year of high school finds true love: tackle football. His problem is his body. He’s 6’3″ 155 pounds his freshman year. Freshman basketball coach drooled over him, football coach wondered what position the twiggy looking kid could play. He lifts weights like crazy and finally his senior year starts at left offensive tackle. He’s 6’6″ 185 pounds. The other four offensive lineman all weigh 230-240 pounds. The tallest kid on the basketball team is 6’4″.
So anyway, my son comes home from his freshman year of college for spring break a few days before I go on the hike I mentioned. He tells me he had been playing pick up basketball games in the gym at school and is having a lot of fun and is getting pretty good. He tells me he’s getting so good he can probably kick my ass. Upon thinking about it some more, he tells me, he’s sure he can kick my ass. Not only will he kick my ass, he says, he will beat me down so bad I’ll never play again. This trash talk goes on for a few days. Finally, I get sick of it and tell him to meet me at the high school gym after my team practice on Monday and we will play 1 on 1 to 15 points. He shows up and takes a few warm up shots all the while talking trash for the benefit of the couple of high school kids who were still in the gym. We start the game. I kick his ass 15-4.
Moral of the story: never f*^k with a guy who just got told he was old for the first time.
See you in Santa Barbara.”