As usual if I don't write it means that everything is fine, or everything is so bad that it's too difficult to write, or that I've got no time or will to write.
As usual, if I don't write, it's because I am an asshole.
Anyhow, tonight I've had a wonderful night with some friends, having dinner on a canal, laughing at ourselves and about ourselves... living a wonderful life.
And I am now home, early for a Friday night, but not feeling the need to being out hunting for life. Life is already here.
I've been thinking about my age, about finally abandoning this lifestyle of a young and strong young man and finally entering the mature age I am actually in. Since I moved to Amsterdam I started again to play a lot of football, mainly 5 and 7 a side. It took some toll to get used to it, I got injured, I got frustrated at not been able to run as I used to, be strong as I used to. Mainly I felt so many time that I have no more the same fitness that I really started thinking: "Time for switching to golf, my dear". Legs hurting, but mainly not been able to withstand a full 50 minutes match on the pitch without going out to take a breathing (50 minutes!?!? I used to play 90 minutes... I am really old). "Who am I?", I started wandering so many times. But then, springtime came, I started playing twice a week and maybe adding a weekend of tennis... and the legs started being their usual pair, lungs started responding and 2 weeks ago we had the finals of the 2 tournaments. And I was good... I really enjoyed playing, I felt being able to control the pitch, the tempo of the game. People around me were maybe (for sure) younger and fitter, but not smart enough, not good enough, not experienced enough... and I actually played well and had good impact on the games I played. We still eventually lost. But hey, I felt: I can still play.
And it's nice, being able to compete with 20somethings when you are 40. The last match I played was the deal-breaker. We were at the 4th match of the night, having won all the others, against a younger team, more rested (they were 11, we were... 7) and, as I discovered later, an actual 11 a side team. And there were a youngster that really was a pain in our defence. A real pain in the ass: quick, strong and technically skilled. The worst possible against me. But I kept his pace, I sent him on the outside and actually controlled him with not too much effort (apparent... I was actually dying every time he was attacking me...).
They finally won, 1 to null, when I finally gambled too much and was too up the field when he got the ball. Actually, they scored when I wasn't there to defend. But, hey, I did the job for so long.
Is this important? Maybe not, life now is other things, but it's still nice knowing that I can still be a force on the field, even now, even after all that has passed, and I don't mean only years.
Good for me. Golf can still wait some years.