Basketball, Bean Bags and The Backstroke

This . . .
I remember playing basketball with my boys as they were growing up. I had an uncanny skill of making amazing shots and it was fun amazing them.
I'd be going by when they were playing and I'd say,
"Here you go, one shot".
Then I would stand on the sewer manhole cover about thirty feet out.
I made more than I missed. It was called, "The sewer shot".
.
That . . .
I went thru a time of letting them win.
Then they got better and I got older.
One day, Nathan beat me one on one - straight up.
I gave it all I had and lost a bit of pride,
but gained a measure of pride as well.
.
This is That . . .
My son Elliott is here visiting this week, and he brought a backyard game of the bean bag variety. In days gone by, I would beat him near every time at stuff like that.
I think I might be related to a bean bag.
We went for the best out of two games for the world championship.
Long story short - I am not the world champion.
Bummer.
.
My daughter Tarah was never very competitive.
She was on the swim team and did every stroke beautifully, but didn't care much about winning or losing.
I remember her racing the backstroke once.
She finished in the middle of the pack, got out of the water and asked me,"How did I look?"
"You looked beautiful", I said.
And she did.
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