Am I really ready to be sent out to pasture at the ripe old age of 41?
I find it amusing we describe professional athletes as being past their prime at 32 and down right ancient at 35.
Of course, I do not profess to be a professional hockey player, but I was questioning how much longer I could play the game as I surpassed 40.
However, thanks to some new friends I now know I have a long ‘career’ ahead of me yet.
The Okotoks Hi-Lites gave me the call to fill in for the playoffs in their old-timers league.
It was like getting called up by the Senior team — literally.
The league is for players 48 years old and over, but when I walked into the dressing room I thought they may have forgotten a zero at the end of that number.
Granted, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust because they stung so badly. The team must bathe in A5-35.
I thought I was in real trouble when along the bench one player was rubbing enough ointment on his knees to numb a water buffalo, another had so many bandages, braces and tape I was wondering if he was even human. Then I was given a real shock when as I dressed the fella beside me stood up to adjust the wires on his heart monitor — yes, his heart monitor.
I was waiting for the team to start handing out back-up batteries for their pacemakers.
Oh man, I hoped the arena had a defibrillator or a medical team on hand because I questioned whether or not we would have enough players to finish the 60 minute game.
My concerns were unfounded.
Over the week we played some intense hockey including a 3-1 thriller in the semi and a 2-1 shoot-out win in the final.
These old boys showed plenty of grit, passion and giddy-up.
Most importantly, for me, they showed there is no age limit on one’s love of the game.
Thanks fellas, it was a blast and that pre-game prune juice smoothie was a great tip.
