Ping-Pong Senority

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.