Sleeve Memories

Maybe as you get older, small things remind you more of the past and a time when life was easier and more subdued. Little events, glimpses of moments, suddenly bring back memories.

It happened the other night when I was rolling an APBA game, of all things. And this may be just some random occurance that hit me at a time when nostalgia has lately been featured heavily in my brain's playlist. It's definitely not a big event and I feel sort of silly even sharing it. Regardless, it made an impression and it brought back a flood of memories of playing this game at an earlier age.

Because Arkansas has unpredictable weather, I didn't really know what to expect the temperature to be when Holly and I prepared for our nightly dog walk the other day. Lately, the climate has varied. One day, it's 65 degrees, as it should be in the southern climes of the U.S. this time of year. Then, it rains and gets cold and the temperature drops to 40 degrees at night. We even had a dusting of snow a few weekends ago which is not ordinary for this area.

I grew up in northern Minnesota and I understand the concept of cold weather - in places it's supposed to be cold. However, down here, you get lazy with the temperatures and don't expect it to be chilly in April.

So, I threw on my Bemidji State University hoodie, a large green hooded sweatshirt bearing the logo of the university where my father taught years ago. Holly got it for me for Christmas a couple of years ago and I've worn it a lot since. It's warm, but not too warm. It's got the hood in case the wind comes a-blowin' and it's got the long sleeves that can either be pushed up or rolled down depending upon the night air chill. It's big, though, even on me and the long sleeves tend to get floppy.

After we walked the dog in the neighborhood, I decided to roll a couple of games in the 1991 replay I'm still doing. I rolled up my sleeves, sat at the APBA game desk in what we call the "baseball room" because I've got all my baseball books, cards, collections and APBA stuff in it, and began rolling the dice.

As is to happen with large, droopy sleeves, they slid down my arms and this is where the memory took over.

When I was a kid in Minnesota, and for a time in Arkansas when my family moved here, I would wear long-sleeved flannel pajamas and a bathrobe. I'd play my sports games late into the night when my parents were asleep (although the clacking of the dice in those old, plastic yellow shakers would often wake my father), and, because it was so late in the evening, I'd be decked out in the pajamas.

The thick, flannel sleeves would invariably get in the way of the dice tosses and I'd constantly roll them up. Back then, I played the APBA basketball and football games, which require a lot of dice rolling. I did the "quick" version of the NBA game, where you'd roll four or five times to finish out a single play. The sleeves became a burden and I'd try to develop a way to keep them out of play. I'd rubber band them up or use a paper clip or try to be conscious of keeping the sleeves up when i rolled. Still, they'd slide down, interrupting a rebound by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar or a slam by Julius Erving or a long rainbow shot from the E-range (APBA basketball fans - all two you- know what I'm talking about) by George Gervin.

All that came back to me the other night when the hoodie sleeve got in the way of the dice roll. More than 40 years later and I've still got sleeve issues. The memories flooded back to a time when I obsessively played the basketball game, tossing long into the night to complete a game. Despite playing the faster solitaire version of the game, it took a long while to finish one contest. I sat in a wooden chair and played the game on the bed rather than the desk so I'd be motivated to finish the game before retiring for the night. I had a rule as a kid - you can't quit until the game is finished. (I find I do that now with the baseball games as well. You never leave a game in mid-iinning).

Back then my only worries were school homework, girl problems and what we'd all do on the weekend for fun. Now, those worries include home mortgages, health issues, finances, if I turned out well enough in life, being a provider, et al. It was an easier time back then; the only real static in those days was the clacking of the dice in those plastic shakers.

So, the other night, I pushed the sleeve back up, rolled a few more plays and noticed it slid down yet again. I didn't stop, though. I didn't get a rubber band or paper clip to secure the sleeve in the upright position. I just pushed them back up every so often and remembered.

Sometimes, it's best just to let things happen for the memories.