Ring Spotting

Sometimes the skills you develop in your pastimes help out in ways unexpected. I’m referring to my “change spotting” hobby of scouting for spare coins here and there.

This past Fourth of July my extended family of brothers, sisters, their children and their significant others gathered for a picnic at the home of my parents. Volleyball is our favorite game to play at these get-togethers. We set up a net and split up into sides. Rather than mark out boundaries, my nephew Vic decided that we should play on the honor system. That meant we spent as much time deciding which balls hit out as we did playing. Winning is sometimes more important than honor in our family.

As you might imagine then, these competitions are fierce. Vic plays basketball regularly in leagues and in tournaments. He was diving here and there, making some spectacular shots. But the games were close. Then Vic discovered his wedding ring was missing. Oh, oh. He’s only been married less than a year. After doing a perfunctory search, we played on. As much time as we spent diving for balls, and ending up face down on the ground, one of us was bound to see it.

But the ring eluded us. Knowing the ferocity of our spikes and digs, the ring could have flown off and ended up in the next county. Finally volleyball was done. It was a five-game match, with my side winning three, coming from behind in the last game to win against Vic’s team. Then the real search for Vic’s ring began. My wife walked the yard in her bare feet, hoping her tender soles would discover the band. Rakes were brought out. My brother crawled on his hands and knees. I searched in the next yard, my eyes sharpened to the glint of metal from years of change spotting. Then, lying right between my feet was a circle of silver. “I am da man,” I said triumphantly.

Vic was very happy to have his ring back. Somehow though, I think he would have been just as happy winning that rubber game of the volleyball match.