Cooking pork chops this evening reminded me of when I was
about 12 or 13 years old. I had a nickname of Pork Chop for a few months.
Somehow or another, there came to be a neighborhood group of
adults that got together and formed a few things for us youngsters to do outside of the summer break from school. Don’t know what it was for the females
but it was basketball for us males.
I sort of knew the rules of the game, so was invited to join
up with the squad being formed. My mother must have okayed it since she figured
I couldn’t get hurt, too much. After all, the game consists of running back and
forth and making a score.