It is softball season again for Jim. Skye and I went to Jim's game this evening. Skye wanted to shase the ball (of course), but once she realized that she had a fence between her and the ball she was okay. A gentleman with a white beard on Jim's team came by to pet her. He asked us "Whose we were". I told him Jim's family. He introduced himself, "I'm Fuzzy". He had a long white "fuzzy" beard which made perfect sense. He looked a little older than Jim and the others but I didn't think much about it.
Jim got a couple of hits, as did Fuzzy. I noticed Fuzzy had a hard time running and everyone seemed to really be pulling for him every time he got up to bat. It wasn't just the usual, everyone seemed concerned everytime he got a hit and ran to the base.
I told Jim when we got home that Fuzzy had introduced himself to us. Jim smiled and said,"Fuzzy is 95."
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat??? 95??"
"Yes and his 60 year old son is on the team too."
Now I see why everyone was concerned each time he ran! When I met him I thought, at the most, he was about 75.
Now that I think about it--I probably couldn't run as well as he does--95 and still playing softball--cool!
