This crazy story just popped into my head!

There is no pattern or intricate system that governs the entrance of old ideas or memory flashes ... into the brain of a 69-year-old. They come and go just as they please. We try to have the good and kind ones tarry and linger and the ugly, evil ones chased out instantly so as not to disturb our homeostasis. No Rhyme - No Reason!

I am not even sure of the date of this incident but I am positive it truly happened. Here goes!

As was my custom on Saturday afternoons in the autumn, I returned to my home at 29 Marshall Lane in Westbury at about 2 p.m. I had practiced dentistry in my Jamaica office starting at 8 a.m. and seen about seven or eight patients. I was pretty fatigued when I came through my door.

My daughter Cara was in the house with a boyfriend. He was about 6-foot, 1 inch, and he lived on the South Shore -Oceanside, I think. Cara was about 16 or 17 years old and the boy was about 19. He said he played basketball for his high school team.

Cara then said, defiantly, "My father is a very good basketball player and I bet he could beat you in a game of One on One." I almost dropped the tunafish sandwich I was munching on. My daughter had just challenged this tall young fellow and I was the challenger even though I was just eating lunch.

Naturally I declined instantly! On Saturday after work I usually just plopped down and watched any football game that was telecast. Cara would hear none of it and pushed and prodded until we were on the basketball court at the end of Hunters Lane in Westbury. As I write, I begin to surmise the year was 1981 or 1982 and I was about 48 years old.

Under my agent Cara's urging, I was faced in a contest with somebody one-half my age and about 5 inches taller. The first to hit 10 points with a 2-point advantage was the winner.

The trumpets blared - "Let the Games Begin!"

In deference to my advanced years, I took the ball out first. We both played well and he jumped to an 8 to 3 advantage. As I took the ball out, I could see my opposition was tiring. He was the younger but he was breathing heavily and moving sluggishly.

Somehow (my memory fades), I scored five straight baskets and we were tied at 8 apiece. I was tired but he was "bushed." I proclaimed, "That's enough of this silliness, let's call it quits since the score is even." He agreed quickly!

During my teen-age years I was anything but magnanimous during sport events, but this was different. I am glad we stopped even though I was sure I would win. There was nothing to gain.

Enough was definitely enough!

Till this day I wonder why my daughter arranged this match between her aging father and her boyfriend.