How to Grow Old, Sometimes Gracefully, Sometimes. . . .

The Tucson Old Timers, who by definition are defying--well, maybe delaying--age, celebrate their birthdays by the seasons:  four times a year.  Today the September through December guys had their party, brushing their teeth, wearing their uniforms, just generally doing their best to be good guys getting a wee bit older.  

The grill was going before the game began.  

. . . sitting down, on the job

"Maybe some shoulder pads--not much,
mind you; just to get a good profile--
and then we can talk about fielding,
and batting, and throwing. . . ."

"Oh, Lord!  Here they come!"

Made sure Jerry came.  He's going to be 86 in January.

The Celebrants

The Secret World of Baseball

"Did you say that was a strike?"

Best foot forward

So very . . . almost.

"Someday, Son, this will all be yours!"

How to win at Scrabble

"I've got it!  I've got it!"

"Just two or three decades ago, I could reach that!"

"Don't even think it!"

Study in Blue

"Got it!"

Looks like a fish story.

Denny Heath wanted proof that he was at the ball park and not at the Pub.
(For at least one inning.)

"Something new under the sun:
never saw that before."

Adjusting to the Sun: Starting One Hour Later (Notice how dark it is?)

Steve Tanaka, visiting from Seattle

Runaway Capitalism:
Open Pit Mine down Left Field Line

Runaway Baseball:
Fugitive from Tombstone

A Day at Play with the Old Timers

The Days Dwindle Down to a Precious Few . . . November 1

Ernest Hemmingway wrote a short story titled, "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber".  That is Francis Macomber on first base, looking down the barrel of Reed's Mannlicher rifle.  

Life on first base is not to be envied when Reed comes up to bat and the whole outfield shifts pointlessly toward right field.  Today, Reed literally trimmed the branches of a tree out toward the highway.

Reed hit two home runs today--one with the bases loaded--driving in about seven runs and himself toward the all-time TOT's season home run record.  

That's Ed, beyond the fence, already on his way to look for the ball, while the spotters congratulate Reed.

In the beginning. . . .

The end.