This is me back in 1971 at Commack High School North on Long Island. I was 17-years-old. I’m not posting this photo to show off my then-26” waist or the fairly large biceps on my 110-pound body. And I’m not going to gloat that I placed 2nd in my League and 4th in Suffolk County on the Still Rings that year. Or that I could do the iron cross, handstands and giant-swings with relative ease. That’s not important any more. That was then and this is now. Last month I was visiting my five-year-old Granddaughter. She loves to play Charades. And, as you all know, if your granddaughter wants to play, you play. No questions asked. She’s really good at the game. I’m not. There were three stacks of cards, each stack representing an age range. I’m not good at the game so I was picking from the age five-to-seven stack. I still had a hard time. I finally picked one I could handle. The card said “somersault”. Wow, that’s easy. I can do that. I was a gymnast. So I do it, rolling over and landing with a loud bang. Ouch. When I tried standing up, I felt like I took a ride in a clothes dryer. It took ten minutes to regain by balance. Not what I remembered from back in 1971. The next day my neck hurt like a son-of-a-gun and it still does. The upside of this story is that my somersault was recognizable enough for my Granddaughter to guess correctly. I guess that’s a good thing. But I do believe my gymnastics days are over.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 19:39:46 +0000
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