Just like Rick Flair stepping out after decades of wrestling, the grizzled bull rider finally meeting his last ride, or yours truly when I was training a sharp group of sailors during my last time underway, it might be time to hang up your literal or figurative spurs.
When it comes to the matters of the heart or the pants, some people have failed. A few have no skill at it. Some just can’t “club the baby seal”, no matter how hard we tried. Multitudes have had a string of exes that George Strait would find puzzling. I know that I have had my good runs, but I also know that there might be a point where I won’t throw my wheels on the track again.
I’m not sure if this qualifies as advice, but I don’t have platitudes for some of you. You put in a great effort, but your best didn’t pay out. Some slot machines pay out good for some people, but there are some of us that end up sober with ten nickels in our pockets instead. I would put my hat on the coat hook and toss my spurs in the back with that busted tuba your neighbor pitched out.
I’m not trying to be ugly, but for some of you, your broken last marriage should be it. You shouldn’t be ashamed. You ran a 5k, made a decent time, but you ended up in a pile up. It happens. Count your blessings you didn’t have a heart attack when the starting pistol went off. Find a way to make a small win out of it.
Some of us weren’t fit to be rodeo clowns. When some of us were born, the doctor slapped our mothers. Y’all couldn’t when the pageant, but you can still hold the door and flip the spotlights. But don;t feel bad, you can still be a kickass person in all of our lives.
The lucky keep running. The smart run somewhere else when our feet won’t do a 4.1 sec 4o yarder. I personally suggest the subway. Plenty of people make good time on the subway.
I am just hoping that a decent cross section of you guys won’t get despondent when reality hits. Just hang up your spurs or toss your jiujitsu gear to someone else. Say f*ck it and move on.