Ouch…

So, I’ve developed a whole new respect for those guys on the field.  You know the ones with the spandex pants and the big goofy helmets.  The ones that throw a ball the length of a football field, over and over again and make it look easy.

I threw a ball about 20 feet over and over again and I can barely move my arm.

I dearly love my brothers.  My sister too for what its worth, but this little tale is about my brothers.  We were over at the folks’ house this weekend and they very kindly invited me to play catch with them.  I think they may have invited before but I’ve never played before.  At least that I remember.  This time; however, I decided to give it a go.

My parents front yard is not huge, but it’s well maintained with short cut soft green grass. On this occasion, four of the 7 brothers were arranged on opposite corners with two actually running in and out of the street. We played for about an hour and a half during which time I managed to hold my own against four guys who are in much better shape than this ole man. You wouldn’t think it had been years since I handled a football. We had a great time. We very quickly had two football’s going and at one point my brother Jared joined in making it five of us.

The weather was perfect. A very light breeze blew through the neighbors trees but didn’t make it hard to throw the ball. It just kept the temperature down on a clear sunny day made for being outside (if your into that sort of thing).

We played until we were exhausted and I must again thank Adam, who works out regularly for giving in first and thus not making me look like a total whimp. I gave in too and spent the rest of the afternoon sounding like an asthmatic with a 5 pack a day habit; but other than that I felt fine!

Until I got home.

Shortly after getting home, I started to really feel my shoulder. It didn’t take long before I could barely move it. A very long night followed where I woke up frequently barely able to move. Cut to work and I groan when I reach for the mouse.

All of that said, I would do it again in a New York minute. That evening, at about eleven thirty, I got a message from one of my little brothers expressing his appreciation for my coming out to play with them. It meant a lot to him. It was a great afternoon for me and this simple note had made it all the more meaningful.

I love my brothers. I appreciate their invitation to play. I had a great time and I dearly hope they will invite me out again.

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