I have a usual route that I take when I go running, though it changes slightly on occasion, taking a new staircase here or following some barely lit path to see where it ends up. Tonight, I was running along the train tracks when I passed a building on my right that stood slightly lower than the platform so I had a near bird's eye view of what was going on inside. Upon first glance, I saw referees in purple track suits with black whistles dangling from their necks and hands posed seriously on their hips while they focused intently on what was in front of them. So I figured, "Oh cute! It's a tiny indoor football (soccer) field where little kids play at night!" But when I stopped for a moment to get a better look, I realized that this was no little children's football league with juice boxes and oranges and trophies. No, instead of a baby soccer field, there were--from what I could see--three ping pong tables set up. And scattered on both sides of the tables were men over the age of 70 dressed in sunny sky blue polo shirts holding their paddles with confidence and staring intensely at their opponents over the five-inch net. "Gee whiz!" was all that kept running through my mind. I watched them play for a minute or two, checking out their moves and tricks with the tiny white ball. Not bad, guys. Not bad at all.
I'm just bummed that I'm not old enough to take part. Hmmm . . . Maybe I'll ask JP if he knows anything about this league. Perhaps he can persuade his peers to allow a 22-year-old to come play once or twice. I'll even offer to bring juice boxes and oranges and trophies if they let me in on the gig! But only if I get a shirt. Besides, I think that color blue would really bring out the color of my eyes.
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