FORTY-THREE. Athletic shoes are fitting
for Golden AgersA prime number. But is it a prime age? Twenty years ago, it seemed old. Twenty years from now, it will seem young.
Birthdays are supposed to be mind over matter. If one minds, it matters.
So how to deal with yesterday's "milestone?" Gracefully, the way one should handle aging.
We're not supposed to get old. We're supposed to grow old, a subtlety in semantics that reflects a gradual process.
At least this is what one of my older friends tells me.
Payton Jordan is 82-years-young. The Stanford track coach emeritus runs daily and is in the kind of shape those four decades younger envy.
Jordan is quietly campaigning to have corporate America recognize the value of the older consumer, especially in fitness. Athletic apparel companies are missing a huge market when overlooking the Golden Agers, particularly in footwear.
"You can't find athletic shoes for older athletes that address their special needs," said Jordan, the track coach for the 1968 U.S. Olympic team.
Jordan hopes to change that thinking. He once had a fellow named Phil Knight in one of his classes at Stanford, the same Phil Knight who founded Nike.
"I wrote him, telling him he could get two Jordans for the price of one," said Payton, alluding to Michael Jordan's endorsement contract with Nike. "It's a shame that these companies don't recognize the older athlete."
It is a shame because all of us are going to get there eventually. Old happens. It all depends on how much it matters.
'Tis the season for heart-warming stories, especially when the sports pages seem to be filled with everything contrary to good sportsmanship. Damon Myers, a junior wide receiver for the Naval Academy, missed Navy's win over Army a few weeks ago after being diagnosed with an advanced form of cancer. He watched from his hospital bed as the Midshipmen, with "DM" stickers on the backs of their helmets, ended a five-year losing streak to the Cadets, 39-7.
Myers received a couple of early Christmas presents. One was from the doctors, who told him the malignant lump under his arm had dissolved following three days of chemotherapy.
The other was a package sent from West Point. It contained a football signed by the Army team and the following note:
"Dear Damon: Congratulations on your victory over Army. The members of the Army football team wish to present this autographed football to you for a job well done as a participating member of the Navy football squad throughout the 1997 football season. We have learned of your valuable contribution toward the successful 7-4 season of the Navy team. We want you to know that our prayers are with you each and every day as you fight another battle there in Bethesda Naval Hospital.
"Sincerely, the 1997 Army football team and coaching staff."
It's nice to see that for this one rare time, both teams came away winners.
Time for some New Year's resolutions. I confess to not keeping as many as I should have during the past 12 months. In particular, the one about the running shoes that were supposed to be worn during the recent Honolulu Marathon. It didn't happen. Resolve continued to come up lame . . . actually, to come up with lame excuses for not training.
So here goes a resolution for the upcoming year. As the saying goes, a candle loses none of its brightness or its flame when lighting another candle.
Let's all light more candles in '98.
Happy New Year.
Cindy Luis is a Star-Bulletin sportswriter.
Her column appears weekly.
