I can't believe it!

I'm not that hurt. And I don't know why. Well, maybe I do...

Normally after a rousing game of Thanksgiving Day Football, I wake up on Tuesday barely able to get out of bed, let alone make it to the bathroom for a hot shower in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain in every muscle I had, and some I didn't even know I could hurt.

The ultimate was a couple of years ago when I blew out (quite literally... I heard audible "pops") both hamstrings, making me a veritable invalid for months. The old fuckers at work got a real kick out of that one.

Since then, I have discovered the art of stretching.... good times! I get to writhe around on the grass before the game instead of during. A fair trade-off, I guess, but it causes much less long-term pain. And only a little of me dies on the inside with the reminder that I am not, in fact, young enough to just run at full speed and hit other equally old people also running at full speed and not pull anything without adequate preparation.

I remember sitting in lines with a number of these same people before playing *real* football, and making small talk instead of stretching when we were in high school, since, really.... who stretches anyway? Homos? And we weren't homos!

Maybe it's homos and old people.

And me......