At the time, I was just turning 55, the minimum age of eligibility to play in this senior league. I played a half season with a partial tear of the rotator cuff in my left shoulder, but a backhanded play to snare a ground ball in the hole at shortstop would be the last play of my sandlot career. I felt an all too familiar pop and instantly knew that I had torn my right hamstring. This injury for all practical purposes finally drove home the reality that my brain was writing checks my body was no longer able to cash. Time healed my torn hamstring and arthroscopic surgery repaired my rotator cuff but even my undying love for the game was not enough to tempt me to risk further injury. It is common knowledge that the way a human body ages is very much connected to one's genes. Unfortunately for me, Father Time was forbidding me from playing again.
Well, thank goodness for the game of golf.