Balls

Day 74: Balls
I've made a resolution to say "yes" every time Sam asks me to play Pig. Pig is a one-on-one shooting game. Often I don't feel like playing, because I'm focused on the garden, or I'm tired from a long day of work, or I'm in the middle of a game of solitaire, or I've already walked the dog plus ridden my bike twelve miles that day. But I never regret saying "yes" to a game of Pig with Sam.

It's a little like Calvinball, except all the kooky rules are designed to let me stay in the game a little longer. So:

(1) I get to defend against Sam, but he doesn't get to defend against me

(2) There are no fouls, so I get to pull his shirt, grab his arms, kick at the ball, and push him aside

(3) I get to use a broom to try to keep his shots from going in the basket

(4) When I'm on defense (and sometimes when I'm on offense) I get 5-6 attempts for every one of his

(5) When the score is P-I-G to nothing, I get 5-6 Hail Mary's, which means if I get a shot from a particular spot in the driveway, I get to go back to P-I.

The game makes me laugh so hard my ribs hurt. Sometimes I even "win."

Sam wants to save his balls to give to his own child someday,
but skimming off three deflated duplicates will still leave plenty.