Writing About The Past

It dawned on me recently that I have spurts of remembrance about growing up and then I have periods when I can't remember a thing. Not to worry, I feel this is the natural reaction of all the work we put in and the experiences we all had at our 35th Reunion this past summer.

Now we are in October and the weather is cooler and perfect for those touch football games we used to have on the dirt field at Willard or at "Fireman's Field" next to the Corner Store and Ridgewood firehouse on Glen Avenue.

Today I can easily recall fingers which were bent in unnatural ways and stayed sore and swollen for many months after a touchdown catch. We had no touchdown dances in those days and I am sure if one of us had been so bold as to do a dance they would have been mocked or given a block that they were not expecting which landed them on their back. It wasn't that a touchdown was unimportant, only that making the opposing team look bad after a score was something we didn't contemplate. This likely was because we changed teams faster than today's NFL players do,  even when it seems that professional players in all sports  change teams every year. We knew all too well that we changed teams two or three times every sunny Autumn afternoon and couldn't be aggravating our future teammates. I am always amazed that today's players have so little regard for the feelings of their opponents. One who had played the game for a while would seemingly understand how badly it feels to be scored upon. I guess because we played both offense and defense we felt these slights all the more.

I miss those games and cool afternoons from so long ago. The sore finger are just minor annoyances that healed quicker than they do now at my age. I think it is these small injuries that keeps me on the sidelines. I know that I don't have the time to heal that I once did, or even half the patience.