The Changing Game

It’s a funny old game. Just when I think I have the rules figured out they seem to change. New rules aren’t good at my age, too much new for me to learn. But every day seems to bring more changes, more strife I could do without. I need consistency, I think our audience needs consistency, but nobody ever listens to me.
I don’t really know why I complain so much, at least I’m in the game and reap the rewards, such as they might be. The rules change so often that we don’t have much of an audience, who really wants to watch a sport when a top player one day can become a has-been overnight; for no other reason than because the powers that be think that should be the way of it, they add another twist to keep things fresh. But the game is too random now, too random by half.
I love this game. It is my life, my blood. But in my long career I have seen far, far too many changes. It wasn’t always this way, it pains me to see how far this game has fallen. The game once was great, with many skilled exponents. Now the game is too much luck, many rule changes have made the public weary of our sport, the skills of the past now replaced with strength and speed. When I retire I will miss the game as it once was, not as it is now.
I am glad that my career will soon end. The fickle nature of this sport means I will not be missed, nor will I miss the sport or seek to play again. I was once a great player, but I have now succumbed to younger, faster, stronger who can play the new game better than I ever would want too. They are welcome to my gauntlet, for I have fought well but lack the strength to carry on.