Old guy kicking field goals in the park

There’s this old guy alone kicking perfect field goals in the park 

I watched in awe as this dude with a half dozen footballs teed up

Scored one extra point after another halfway down the field on a Saturday afternoon in the park 

I stopped a couple walking nearby and asked, ‘Hey do you know who is this guy is?’

‘Yeah,’ the young woman replies, ‘he comes here several times a week, what of it?’

‘He’s really good!  Is/was he in the NFL or something?,’ I ask.

‘We dunno,’ the young man chimed in, ‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’ as the couple walked by me.

I bought a few bottles of water from a kid selling them from a cooler nearby, then walked up to the ‘kicker.’

As I approached him, I was shocked that he looked like me, but with more grey hair and older.

I’m never at a loss for words, but I found myself speechless as I tried to speak.

The kicker smiled and said, ‘Is that for me young man?’

Pointing at the water bottle 

Still unable to speak, I nodded, and he grabbed the bottle of water from me, and smiled.

Nothing quite prepares you for the day when you meet yourself.  I guess I never really paid much attention to my own reflection to really notice me.  I suppose people who are twins wouldn’t be too shocked.  I gave myself quite an impressive first impression.  

‘Thanks,’ the kicker said, opening the bottle and taking a long drink to quench his thirst

I began walking around the kicker, trying to wrap my mind around what was happing, then he literally took the words right out of my mouth!

‘What... in... the... Twilight... Zone... is going... on?’ the kicker said in the cadence of William Shatner acting as Captain Kirk, while shaking his fists in jest.

‘Every time we do this, you hand me a bottle of water and think the exact same thought,’ the kicker chuckled 

‘Is this a dream or something?’, I ask.

‘Yes, or something,’ the kicker chuckled.  I’m you, you’re me, we’re not time travelers...  this is the part where I ask you how you got here.’ the Kicker cried, a little annoyed, like he’d rather be kicking more field goals instead of talking to me.

‘If you drove here, then where are your keys?’ the Kicker opined.  ‘Why were you walking alone in the park?  Why am I kicking footballs into the end zone?  We don’t have a lot of time, in fact you can only ask me three questions, that’s how this works, and no, you’re more dead and this ain’t heaven or hell.  Go!

What am I supposed to do?  I begin.  ‘Wrong question,’ the Kicker replies

While setting up more footballs to kick.

Why are you kicking footballs?  I ask.  You’re getting warmer.m, the kicker laughs.  ‘Turns out we’re pretty good at it, the kicker proclaimed as he kicks another perfect field goal.  Damn shame we didn’t figure that out until our mid 60’s.  

So that it?  our purpose and what we’re good at and enjoy is kicking a football?  I ask.  No, and that’s two question buddy,  I’ll see you again real soon, and we’ll get to do this again, and again, and....