David Feherty, an unpredictable and sometimes outrageous commentator on golf,  was interviewing the guest Hall of Fame basketball player, Bill Russell.  Feherty has his own half hour show on the Golf Channel and interviewed a wide variety of famous athletes.  Russell spoke of the close relationship he had with his Boston Celtic’s coach, Red Auerbach.

When Red was close to death, Russell went to see him for the last time.  As Bill Russell was about to leave, Red called him back to the bed and whispered to him, “When you get old, don’t fall.”  When Russell told Feherty, they both chuckled.  They acted like, here we were, hoping for something prophetic and all we got was the musing of an old man.

Well, I’m not so sure it wasn’t great advice.  Remember, Auerbach was the man who said “Records are made to be broken.”  He’s quotable.  You just have to be there.  None of us believes we are there yet.  In fact, those of us who consider ourselves athletic, think we will never get there.  But about ten years ago, I was playing third base in an old timers soft ball game and the throw from the outfield was low.  As it went by me, I realized that I could no longer bend over to get it.  When you have been doing things like that all your life, and then, you can’t, it’s a real shock.  I mentally made some lame excuse and moved on.

Part of being an athlete is knowing how to fall.  It’s nothing you are taught or trained to do.  It’s just inherent.  But it is important.  Sheep dogs know how to herd sheep and athletes know how to fall.  A few years back, when I was 70, I was jogging along and I slipped on some ice.  We are not here to discuss dumb decisions I have made, like jogging on an icy day.  We are here to discuss the art of falling.  And what an art.  I slipped, then tumbled and rolled and came up in good shape.  A few scratches, but overall quite proud of myself for still being among those who know how to fall.  Ah yes, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick.

I’m a few years older now and for Thanksgiving, Carole and I drove from the DC area down to Roanoke, Virginia to spend the holiday with our son, Paul, his wife, Sandy and their two sons, Josh and Jack (PJ3).  Thanksgiving lived up to its name and to top off a perfect day, the Redskins beat the Cowboys.  It is really heart warming to watch Jerry Jones at such moments.

Friday was a kick-back day.  Lots of football on TV and no one had to go to work..  I saw my 13-year-old grandson, Jack, kicking a soccer ball to himself in the cul-de-sac below the house.  They live on Reed Mountain, so everything is up or down.  I announced that I was going to kick the ball around with Jack and headed down the driveway.  I didn’t last five minutes.  About the third time he kicked the ball to me, it bounced higher than I thought it would and smacked me on the forehead.  It just missed my glasses and I was pleased I hadn’t broken or cut anything.  Then, I noticed my footwork wasn’t any good.  I decided to stay away from my bicycle kick.  I wasn’t even going to try my tricycle kick.

So we just kicked it back and forth at about 20 yards.  Pretty mild stuff.  Then the ball got away from me and started to roll down the street.  I started to move quickly to catch it –  and that was it.  I don’t know what happened, but I do know I was falling.  Completely out of control.  I skinned both hands, my knee, my elbow, my shoulder and banged my head.  The pants and sweater I was wearing were later rejected by Goodwill!

I’ve thought a lot about the fall.  First, I didn’t break anything.  Paul said at my age, I should be thankful.  Second, as I was falling, I was turning to the right to reduce the damage.  I think 20 years ago, I would have made pretty much the same move, but my head would not have smacked into the asphalt.  Third, I should have let the ball roll down the hill.  Next time I will.  I will be older and wiser.

Writted by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com