Woke up kind of sore Thursday following an 11-inning baseball game Wednesday night, even though I played third base rather than catcher. Had a ton of balls hit my way, and being fortunate enough to pick up a few hits, I did a fair bit of baserunning too.
We won by the totally ridiculous score of 21-20, in 11 innings, at West Albany High. This is 38-and-over wood bat baseball, and typically the victor triumphs with fewer than 10 runs, but well, I guess you’d just have to say this wasn’t a typical game and leave it at that.
Anyway, as I said I rolled out of bed the next morning with varying types of discomfort. That happens after games with some regularity these days; I am nearly 48 years old after all.
On such mornings, I often find myself thinking, “I wish we had a hot tub.” It would feel so good to immerse myself in that warm water, and in fact on occasion I will seek out the tub at Corvallis’ Timberhill Athletic Club (which didn’t revoke my membership for questioning its shirts-only basketball policy) or the Albany Athletic Club (which is part of the same health club network as TAC).
An aside: I like both clubs a lot, but I prefer the tub in Corvallis, which is a large, coed variety right by the swimming pool. At the AAC, the tub is a smaller one inside the men’s locker room, and I pretty much only use it if no one else is; it’s kind of cramped, plus the norm there is for guys to sit in it sans trunks, and I’m not really into being naked in a hot tub with anyone of my own gender.
Anyway, on those occasions when I wish I had a hot tub at home, I quickly change my mind and decide that having one, in total, likely wouldn’t be as much fun for me as thinking about having one. The expense, maintenance hassles, etc. would probably render it more trouble than it was worth from an ownership standpoint.
Probably the ideal thing would be having a next-door neighbor with a hot tub who let me use it whenever I wanted.
For me, there are two other things I’ve often thought about owning that I ultimately decide are more fun to imagine owning than to actually own.
One is a boat. Not that I have done this for years, but water skiing is a blast and I would love to do that every now and then, but I just can’t see myself ever buying a boat. Again, the headache-to-enjoyment ratio just wouldn’t be there for me, the best solution being for one of my good friends to buy a boat and regularly invite me.
The other is a pool table. While never being terribly skilled at pool, I’ve long been fascinated by the game, including the geometry aspect — I’m kind of a math geek, remember — coupled with the fact, I suppose, that it’s always seemed a pastime of tough, cool guys everywhere.
But then I think, where exactly would I put something that requires so much space, and how much would I really play given that I’m not exactly awash in spare time?
The answers are, I don’t know, and probably not that much.
Still, I love thinking about that clattering of billiard balls in my very own home and probably always will.