Well, the old guy couldn’t do it. Here it was, early March again and although he had determined within himself to quit senior softball after last season, he had never gotten rid of his equipment. Here he was, going through his gear, hanging around out in the cold garage, and thinking about the game of softball.

He just couldn’t do it although his last at bats to end last year’s season (and he thought his career) had been the best ever, he just couldn’t walk away. There was no real reason for him to quit now, no one actually knew that he had intended to totally quit after this last season; he hadn’t told anyone, it was between him and the game. After all, he was still in pretty good shape and really nothing else has changed. He was the same old boy.

Now he was out in the garage shuffling through his worn-down gear, fishing around in the various bags, he finally pulled out one of his favorite gloves and put it on. As he straightened up, a strange peace came over him there in the gathering darkness of that cold garage. He knew that it was SETTLED, the ring had once again been slipped on, and from now on it was a done deal, he was going to play again!

The first thing he had to do was call the coach. He hadn’t returned the call from him from over a week ago. What if they didn’t want him now? What if he was too late to make the roster? The old gezzer dropped his bags and bats and ran out of the garage at what was considered his full-speed. By the time he made it to the house’s patio door, he had slowed to a trot (which probably saved some broken glass). He fumbled with and dropped the phone a few times because he unwittingly still had the glove on his left hand. With his heart pounding as he looked up the phone number and called it, he finally found his way to the sofa and slumped down into it. After a few minutes of jumbled conversation, he and the coach understood that he would be glad to return to the team for another season.

"Whew", he thought, jumping back onto his feet to pace around in a circle around the sofa, "If it takes this much out of me to just talk about coming back this year, WHAT is it going to be like to actually go out there and play!"

Plopping down into the sofa, a thin smile began to crease his face. Then a low chuckle rose from his throat and came out of his mouth like a horrible noise that ended in a snort. Hadn’t he done this same kind of thing last season, or was it the season before? "Let me see," he thought, stretching back and settling in, "Wasn’t it two years ago that I was ready to retire, when I was 64? I even told a couple of my softball buddies about it, of course they laughed at it and not another word from them about that since then. Are we really all alone in this_?"

Wait a minute; I decided to stay because the team really needed someone for the outfield whose legs were still ‘viable’. That’s a word a coach likes. Then my bat finally got hot---that was fun. I must have hit .600; maybe it was closer to .650. I ought to check on that sometime but_never mind. It was my best batting year in the seniors by far. Last year was just o.k. but now I’m sure that I can get back to that other level again. It seemed so easy then.

He sat there quietly for awhile, happily thinking of those most recent years and even reaching back into the ancient archives for more inspiring information. He happily drifted back into his well-worn path of haze. He really should go out there and polish up the gear, but he had another month until he really needed it and, after all, the game would always be there for him.

"I’m not in a hurry anymore, nothing gets settled until you’re on the field_I’ll be out there again, that’s one thing I can count on, for better or worse."

"I’m a hard quitter", the old Gez said to his buddy Ed as they soft-tossed on the cold March day at the practice field. Ed didn’t say anything back. The Gez figured that this would happen and went on with his story: "You know that I thought about retiring last year, don’t you?" No reply from Ed. For a long minute the cold ball slapped into the stiff mitts until the Gez pitched his voice up a tone higher and held the ball as he addressed his friend. "Sometimes a guy wonders if he should come back out, you know? Go through all of this and then find out that he might not have it, might not be good enough to carry his weight?"

Ed walked a few paces toward the Gez and stopped. He held his catching arm down at his side, which meant ‘Don’t throw the ball’ and barked out a few crisp words. You could almost see the frosty words formed in the chilly air. "There ain’t no quit’ in in softball!"

"Nobody knows," thought the Gezzer, "All of this struggle I’m going through. Guess I’m just lucky. Good thing the coach didn’t know. Or maybe it’s just that I’m too young to retire. Anyway, there is always this, the game will always be there for me, until I’m not ready to be there for it."

Post Script: The old Gez hit .651 for the season, played left center field and made the all-star tournament later that year. He was voted the Most Inspirational Player of the league at the end of the season. Think you are ready to hang ‘em up? Don’t do it till you die, the game is always there and besides, you need each other.