Milestone Monday arrives this week. My body clock turns 50 tomorrow.

No mid-life crisis happening here, just a bulging midsection. That's come from late-night snacks, a love affair with pasta and time spent on my derriere watching roughly 400 high school football games, 1,000 basketball games, etc., over the years.

Turning 50 is no problem for me, really.

But what about my own athletic career?

Now that's depressing.

My Little League team went 2-18 when I was 11, losing games 56-0, 40-4 and 36-0 along the way. No 10-run rule in those days, boy.

That same Little League team went 14-6 when I was 12. We reached the playoffs, but were eliminated in the final half-inning of the final game, three runs crossing the plate as I dove into a mud puddle trying to catch a fly ball.

The ball rested in the puddle, not in my glove.

On to Pony League, where I struggled at the plate so badly that our big slugger, Jim Howard (we called him Hondo) threatened to beat me up if I didn't get a hit during a critical late-season game.

I was riding an 0-for-20 slump at the time and hit ninth in the batting order — and I doubled into the gap in left-center out of pure fear.

Then there was the slow-pitch softball team I pitched for in Bethel Park. We had a right fielder who couldn't see, a center fielder who couldn't throw, a second baseman who couldn't run and a first baseman who couldn't catch.

And I served up so many gopher balls that a power hitter on the league's best team once offered me $10 to pitch to him the night we played them.

I didn't take the money. I pitched anyway — and he hit a ball across the road, which sits atop a 30-foot-hill, which sits behind the left-field fence.

Speaking of softball, I was struck out by a girl after covering Ohio University's women's fast-pitch softball team in college. I made the mistake of mentioning to her coach that she pitched pretty well — for a girl.

Next thing I knew, I was in the batter's box, whiffing on a changeup while being mocked by the entire team.

Ahh, memories.

When I worked in Xenia, Ohio, the newspaper's publisher entered us in a flag football league. We lost our opener, 76-0, I threw three interceptions that were returned for touchdowns in the first five minutes.

The team disbanded after that.

When it comes to golf, well, I can drive a ball 200 yards if the ground is dry.

Bowling is a sport I'm OKat, even won a couple of league championships and finished in the money at the state tournament twice.

I've never sniffed a perfect game, though, I once got thrown off an ice rink because my skating style was digging up ice, never perfected a jump shot in basketball, had my butt kicked in horseshoes more times than I care to recall.

Turning 50 is not the problem. Going through all the crap to get to 50,

that's the problem.Can't play sports? Write about them.Works for me.