“Papa, guess what!”
Capt. R.E. Ludlow smiled at his nine-year-old grandson George.
“What?”
“Tomorrow is the day we start getting you back into condition for your one-on-one with Mr. Stepforth so y'all can close the deal with all the deal points!”
“It is?” the captain said.
“Yeah, because you cannot go over there and embarrass us!” eight-year-old granddaughter Edwina Ludlow said. “You have to be handsome and victorious, and you are six inches taller so you just need to add basketball to your workout routine!”
“Y'all really need to ask me about these things before committing me,” Capt. Ludlow said. “I haven't picked up a basketball except to hand it to one of you since before I adopted y'all.”
“Yeah, but, once a champion, always a champion,” George said. “The same thing goes for Mr. Stepforth. Y'all can still play because it's in you now.”
“We are working on the pom-poms!” seven-year-old Amanda Ludlow said as she and ten-year-old Glendella Ludlow came to dump out the entire papier-mache bin before Mrs. Thalia Ludlow could chase them down to stop them. “We just need the long shreds, and some food coloring, and some tape!”
“Or, we just could have shredded some fresh construction paper in any color you wanted,” Mrs. Ludlow said.
“Oh yeah, that is a better idea!” Glendella said.
“As soon as y'all get all that shred back in the bin,” Mrs. Ludlow said.
“Oh, yeah,” Amanda and Glendella said, and then got to work with the work they had just made for themselves.
“OK, while they work that, I've got your entire workout playlist together,” George said. “I went back to the prehistory of basketball because Mr. Stepforth is still playing those old guys, and His Airness can still mop the floor with him, so, you just have to figure out how to do what Michael Jordan, His Airness, does, and you can beat Mr. Stepforth!”
“I mean, we like him, and we like his grandkids, but still, Papa, there's Ludlow standards to uphold!” Edwina said.
“Problem,” Capt. Ludlow said. “How many NBA players were at the level of Michael Jordan – and just how much time do you think we have to work on this?”
Capt. Ludlow found a good highlight video, plopped himself and his four grandchildren down in front of it for about ten minutes, and then asked for their thoughts.
“We're going to need bigger pom-poms,” Glendella said.
“Oh yeah, Papa, because when you get that good, you're going to deserve it!” Amanda said.
“We really gotta start tonight, because you're not even that tall,” Edwina said.
“Yeah, Papa,” George said, “so we're going to start with nighttime basketball, because we have a lot of work to do.”
Mrs. Thalia Ludlow started laughing gently.
“Guess what? To them, Robert, you are the greatest, so go on,” she said.
He sighed and went out and started getting back into one-on-one basketball shape, that night, to the delight of all eight Ludlow little ones … and Mrs. Ludlow peeked out and saw her 58-year-old husband's muscle memory kicking in as he handled and shot the ball. He was in optimum overall fitness for his age, so this was not as hard as it might have been for another man. And, he was a West Point champion – sixth man of the year, that year.
“Once a champion, always a champion,” Mrs. Ludlow said as her husband passed the ball to five-year-old Lil' Robert and then picked him up so Lil' Robert could dunk it for his grandfather.
“OK, but, he's the wrong Robert Edward Ludlow – we love Rob but you gotta actually get up there tomorrow, Papa!” Edwina said.
Much later, after his grandchildren had gone to bed, Capt. Ludlow picked up the basketball from where he left it, and sighed.
“When I was young, I was a champion because my team needed me to be that … nothing has changed but the name of my teammates.”
He stood on the porch, aimed, and shot the ball – nothing but net – and then went and got the ball and put it away for the night.
“Great game, champ,” Mrs. Ludlow said as he came in.
“Thank you, my love,” he said. “Ain't no way I'm beating Thomas Stepfoth, a D1 first-string college champion who has played one-on-one consistently all these years … but I will do y'all proud in not going down in defeat without a fight!”
Inside the Trent home, Mr. Thomas Stepforth and his wife Velma watched Capt. Ludlow sink that last basket, just as they had watched him playing gently with his eight grandchildren.
“Now that is a man who loves his grandchildren, and also has some ridiculous muscle memory,” Mrs. Stepforth said. “You can tell he must have been really good back in the day.”
“Oh, he was – at only six-foot-three, and sixth man of the year at West Point?” Mr. Stepforth said. “He also is known for playing pickup games with officers over the decades, and up to at least age 53 he was still making people younger and taller than him look absolutely stupid. He's rusty, but if he works on it, given his height, weight, and slight youth advantage, he's going to put up quite a fight – and he's going to have time because General Ira Hamilton has found more money for the workers at the Ludlow Bubbly to put into the deal so they will owe me less in the end.
“Well, it should be entertaining,” Mrs. Stepforth said. “Did you call His Airness for some tips?”
“I told him about this and he is probably still laughing,” Mr. Stepforth said. “All he told me was, 'Don't lose, man – I ain't never gonna let your old behind live it down if you do!'”
Mrs. Stepforth laughed.
“Well, I guess that's that!”
“Yep!”