My aunt and I played ping pong for 50 years. Madge beat me like a rented mule. At age 93 she had a stroke. When I visited her farm on Watchic Pond, I mentioned her decades-old victory streak and she said she could beat me even attached to an oxygen machine. I said a game to 7. My niece said throw the game. First serve from Madge was a wicked slice that dive bombed off the table for a score.
"I'm not dead yet."
My niece clapped her hands.
I used every dirty trick in the book.
Madge had written them all.
I lost 7-6.
She never got old only out of breath.
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