Naptime for Ringo

I got nothing...in more ways than one.

A friend called last week to see if I wanted to play softball in a 60-and-over league. I told myself 7-8 years ago that I wouldn't ever play again. Too many pulled muscles...mostly hamstrings. Instead I asked..."What time is practice?" (Where else can you be sixty years old, and be the youngest guy on the field?)

I showed up at 1 p.m. this afternoon. It was 45F, and raining. 4 old fools guys were throwing the ball back and forth. From my very first throw...I knew it was going to be bad. I got nothing...no arm left. I found myself wondering whether it was from lack of play, or from my shoulder surgery. Regardless...I was short-arming everything. No power in the arm.

I might go to a couple more practices...just out of curiosity. But...my Boys of Summer days may be over.

I got nothing as far as pictures go, either. It's so nasty outside...even the horses don't want to venture out of the barn. And...I don't blame them. Ringo was preparing for a stand-up nap. I might do the same. (Not standing up...but laying down.)

One of those kind of days. I need my rest to be able to watch the NCAA basketball championship tonight. Who would win a fight between a wolverine and a cardinal? The wolverine, of course. GO BLUE! GO MICHIGAN!