I remember when I was a kid, we would organize actual tackle football games in the neighborhood open space where I lived, on the Mean Street of McLean.
To do so, was no small feat. It required somebody calling multiple home phones, running through the parent gauntlet to get to your buddy, asking if he could come by around 1 p.m. to play, and then repeating the process until you had enough kids to get a game up.
And yeah, we would tackle each other. Luckily the worst injury was a separated shoulder to one Greg Planicka, a rail thin speedster, who was like trying to cover the equivalent of Desean Jackson.
Well, fast forward about 35 years, and I am now putting on a single semi-organized game every fall, on the most gloriously absurd patch of home football field this side of the Mississippi.
Should I be having my buddies over to play flag football games every weekend in the fall?
But I haven’t done a good job networking with adult male family men out in the hinterlands where I live. So I settle for getting a handful of them to bring their kids out after Thanksgiving.
I’ve got to do better.
I remember those neighborhood games fondly, and the highlight plays I made (every kid had a few) were exhilarating. My brother Jim, who you see above in the Fightin’ Donkeys jersey played in all these games with me. I am quite sure we tackled each other, more than a few times.
I would kill for a handful of pictures from those games. Sadly, none exist. Kids don’t think about taking pictures of themselves so they become priceless artifacts 30 years later.
Andy Pollin, my longtime radio sparring partner, is seen above wearing his JV high school jersey! And it still fits! The big tall chowd in the black is neighbor “Boston Billy”, who is a great guy, with a great family. Sadly, he’s a Pats fan. Of course.
Well, maybe I’m compensating for all of that now. Because to have a stupidly awesome football field, with $600 of paint and over 15 man hours of my time, is apparently not enough.
I have to have a drone. I mean, hell. Why not? They are so f’in cool!
So who knows if the kids out there last weekend will cherish this little video when they are old and fat and working like a mule for “the man.”
I know I like it. And that’s enough.