My two buddies and I would bring beer to the football bleachers on weekend nights while evading school security. We’d sit at the top row and have “poignant philosophical discussions”, such as who was the best rock drummer of all time. At the age of 18, such discussions qualified as poignant and philosophical. LOL
We had “the rockpile” that our marching band practiced on when we couldn’t get the actual football field that the football team always seemed to find access to (in favor of us). I was basically a dirt field that the soccer team also practiced on. And yes, there was a little park right next to it with swings, a slide, etc.
Used to play T-ball and then baseball in my Boys Club leagues. My first coach was Mr. Jordan. He taught us batting and fielding skills. The important things, however, were teamwork and sportsmanship. When we won or lost a game, we’d form a line with the other team, and say, “good game”, to each of the other team members as we walked down the line shaking hands. We had an incredibly cohesive team. We were about 60% white and 40% black. Did we care? No way! Literally, we were a band of brothers just playing ball and having fun. Each dad had a turn at buying the team sodas after a game. Dads, sons, friends… wonderful memories! BTW, our team were champions in our league and we each got a trophy (which still stands on my fireplace mantelpiece). Then there was the other coach. He wanted us to win. Every game. Didn’t teach us any skills. Berated kids (including me) who weren’t the “better” kids. Needless to say, our new team was adrift. We just didn’t care. We didn’t have any drive for winning or even playing. It all came to a head when our coach got into an argument with an umpire’s call at home plate. It was late in the game, and we were up by 7 runs. But our coach had to provoke an argument. The ump put up with his verbal abuse until he got shoved and was called a stupid blind n*gger. The ump put my coach’s @ss on the ground and told him never to call him that again. Coach backed away, but the damage was done. My parents pulled me outta this on the spot. So did many other parents of players from both teams. I heard later that he was banned from the Boys Club, including attending any Boys Club activities. Dang, I just wrote a book here! Anyways, good coaches make good teams. Bad coaches? You know the rest!
I was the Neil fan. Dave was the Bonzo fan. Greg was the Keith fan. We went our own ways, but as for me, I finally found the light. Ginger!!!