I got a call from an old friend the other day. He said, “wanna go referee some old guys basketball games?” I thought, sure, I’m an old guy, how hard can it be to watch other old guys stumble around a bit while we make a little money? So I asked, “are we gonna have to do any running?” He said, “naw, just stand and watch em stumble around, make a few calls and pick up the check.” “Great, I said, count me in!”

So last Saturday morning we showed up at the Bloomingdale Recreation Department gym to watch old guys stumble around while we made a little money. It turned out to be one of those learning experiences as I learned something about passion and the fountain of youth. These old guys came from all over the southeast and brought with them gym bags, ointment, knee braces, ibuprofen and a passion for the game they loved, some for sixty years. They played three on three, half court from nine in the morning until two in the afternoon with the “older” guys (those over seventy) at one end of the court and the “younger” ones (fifty to sixty nine) at the other ; then actually walked out of the gym with no help. The morning started with the team captains’ meeting where I met someone I hadn’t seen in forty years, Georgia’s All SEC point guard from the sixties, Allan Johnson.

“Hi, I’m Allen Johnson” he said and all I could think of was, “Hi, uh, I can’t remember my name but may I have your autograph and please don’t foul cause I don’t think I can call a foul on you and weren’t you the point guard for the Bulldogs back in the 60’s like All-SEC and all that?”(Well, that’s what I was thinking anyway.) And my ability to make a “call” got worse as we met players who had played for Rupp at Kentucky and others who came from out west (S.F. State) and played for other coaches I had heard of in years past. Players, who could still move, shoot and pass, maybe not with the speed of days long gone, but with an attitude that said, I want to get this right just one more time! A passion for excellence that, I’m sure, contributed to most of them becoming successful retirees.

During half-time breaks you would see them still working on the skills they had learned a half-century before. As I watched them play I couldn’t help but think, so this is where one finds the fountain of youth…this love of something that continues throughout a lifetime, keeping them interested in life. In this case it was basketball but I could see the importance love of the game and the passion for still wanting to play kept them young and competitive. And competitive they were as an occasional elbow or hard block was thrown to gain position on each other. “Aw common ref, that was just a tap!” I’d hear from the one who gave it of course; while the receiver would complain about being taken advantage of.

In the end they always shook hands and nodded their heads at one another as if to say, “Thanks for letting me play this game I love one more day.” They even thanked the referees which meant a lot to me, knowing I’d done more watching than officiating. After the last game I watched as Allan Johnson walked out of the gym as a basketball player, maybe for the last time. He’s up for partial knee replacement next week. I sure hope it goes well; the guys would miss that sparkle in his eye when he throws up that hook shot or makes one of those great passes. No, come to think of it, what we’ll all miss is the passion, and the love he brought to the game; the fountain of youth each of us must find to be truly successful.