The Corner Bar: November 2009

Thanksgiving is always a time to remember things, as all holidays are. I remember most of my childhood Thanksgivings being at my grandparents house, most notably the table angling perpendicular to its usual direction to allow for an extension. It always drove me insane because I would always be seated on the abutment that was on the carpet, and it would make massive dents in the carpet.

I remember one year it snowed heavily and we made a fort in the snow. I always would sweat in my heavy jackets, but then again I sweat when I chew gum. I think snow around Thanksgiving would be nice, then I could make fun Folger's commercials in my head.

I picture, in the early morning hours, me putting the coffee in the pot making all funny faces while I sniffed it, my eyes coming alive with the aroma of the beans. Then the camera would pan out and I'd be completely in the nude.

What happened to our tackle football games? I miss playing that and getting all muddy. Chris F. would be the quarterback, wearing a St. Mel's Letter jacket and winking at Danielle on the sidelines. Did they get married yet? I think Billy was the running back.

Ray would also qb for the other team with his father on the sidelines. Ray would get mad at an incomplete pass, and his father would say, "Calm down Raymond."

Ray would retort, " I don't want your life."

Now, if we play, its two hand touch, everyone smokes in between touchdowns, and Steve wears a 200 dollar jersey.

"Ok, you go deep, you stay short, then zig zag."

Steve would call me up the night before and say, " I gotta pick you up early so we can stop at DePhillips and get receiver gloves."

ck

Sunday, November 30, 2008

11-30/Thanksgiving Recap
Some things never change. I keep thinking that they do, but as time goes on, you can count on certain things.The Wednesday before Thanksgiving is still, in fact, the largest impromptu re-union nights in the country. Former high school co-eds still meet up at the same places every year.

The Friday after Thanksgiving is still, in fact, the only day that guys get together and play football. Unfortunately the biggest change when it comes to this, though, is physical fitness.Already marked for the Queens flag football league, we claimed a field at Crocheron Park, slightly muddy as usual. Half of us wore baseball cleats, the other half sneakers.

Some had football wide receiver gloves, I had batting gloves.Most wore a football jersey, I wore a "baseball at night T-shirt." The "B.A.N" t-shirt had high potential to be the go-to T-Shirt for me. Unfortunately mysterious grease stains presented themselves at the appendix area, so it was now designated to "work out T-shirt" duty.

At first, it appeared that only 5 of us were going to show up, but Sal's colleague arrived with 4 friends. The difference between us and them, was that their receiver gloves were actually used before.

After a mini debate about whether to revert to our olden days by playing tackle, Steve's mechanical knee brace did all the talking for our side. After one drive we had to take a water break and Mike could get his Puma track suit dry-cleaned.

On the twin field next to us, a small group of kids multiplied into about 20, and a full blown tackle game ensued. Before taking the snap I shouted "Omaha, Omaha. 34, 34" to which I got not even a giggle.

I scrunched my nose and gave a nice Farley giggle, but just then a large 20 year old brute, took down another 20 year old with a horse collar tackle on the sister field. The tacklee got up and threw the ball at the tackler's legs, to which he responded with a loud " WHOOO!!"

I yelled hike and threw a 2 yard pass for a 3 yard gain to Sal. " WHOOO!!"

It seemed that our adversaries were jealous of the tackle game, and wanted to remember their olden high school football days. No dice for us, as Taco Bell was calling anway. After losing the first game badly, and then mixing up the teams for another, we ran for the border.

At TB, I learned of Steve's new invented soda beverage. Since he, "doesn't like the taste" of plain diet pepsi, he filled the cup then added a splash of wild cherry. Delicious and ground-breaking, I'd like to go ahead and call it "the Steve."

We sat in the "Rat Pack" booth. It was a circular booth in the corner that seemed to offer the most room, and also gave a little pride to the habitants. I could just see Frank now, ripping open the fire sauce with his teeth and doucing it on his 89 cent soft taco.They should hang a framed Rat Pack picture above the booth with the caption of Frank saying,"Who do ya gotta f--k around here to get a chalupa?"

I'd like to see this Friday-after football game evolve into playing video games in one of our dens. Hopefully, though, we won't be drinking wine and checking out the new lawnmower while waiting our turn.

ck