Boys of Summer....
Yesterday, the 8th of October, the mercury in Boston spiked at 82 degrees. Needless to say this is rare. Usually, as we head into October, our population has exchanged shorts and tank tops for an endless reserve of hooded sweatshirts, wooly caps and leggings. Yesterday, however, armed with only towels, water bottles, and a football, four grown men and one striking Greek photographer took a 200 yd walk to the hardened sand of low tide and the gray expanse of the Atlantic.
For over two hours we played, and played hard. This was no lazy catch, no lackadaisical jog down a sunswept strip of sand, but rather a crucible, where exercise ability, athletic talent, and the competitive spirit met under the glare of the Atlantic Sun. For some of us, decades of brotherly completion never forgotten shone clearly evident on our faces as we turned a corner in pursuit, jockeyed for a ball in the air, or broke the pocket and turned downfield. And as we battled one another for Sunday supremacy, we became boys again. For a few hours, our competitive spirits allowed us respite from the inadequacies, dishonesty, and apathy of a declining world. We played. Hard. To Win. To Enjoy. To Improve. To Live.
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