During the Depression, my dad grew up a New York Giants football fan. His parents managed to keep their heads above water but there was no room for amenities. Therefore, it wouldn't be until dad was sixteen, (November 12, 1944), that his friend's uncle hooked them up with freebies to a Giants game. More importantly, the uncle's influence was so great that they were also promised the equivalent of backstage passes, (meeting the victorious players in the locker room after their anticipated shellacking of the Philadelphia Eagles...who, two weeks earlier, had handed them their only loss that season).
A wry smile always came to dad's face when he told me how secondary the game was compared to meeting his heroes like Arnie Herber, getting autographs or the ultimate jackpot, the gift of a pro football.
Of course it wouldn't be a story if everything went right...but the gargantuans of the gridiron didn't lose...they tied 21-21. Some how, the team was so disheartened by the manner of this outcome that non-essential visitors to the locker room weren't permitted in.
The opportunity of a lifetime...spoiled! My poor little immature dad was pissed-off. His disappointment was so strong that he not only turned his back on the Giants forever but he became New York City's most ardent Philadelphia Eagles fan. Even when I became a New York Jets fan in 1963, his loyalties were still flying high with the, "Birds."
When I was eight, Dad wanted to indoctrinate me into being an Eagles fan. Ever so clever, he incorporated a visit to the Eagles training camp with a vacation to Hershey, Pennsylvania. That day I got a ton of Eagles autographs. Through all the time and moving around the country, I still have this treasure.
The one autograph that I know is there but I can't make out, is Timmy Brown, (#22). I know its there because he was my father's favorite player. Dad would ramble on about Brown's exploits so strongly that soon he became my favorite. When we got home, dad even painted green Eagle-like wings on my red, toy football helmet with the number twenty-two printed in the back.
|I WAS ABLE TO TAP INTO MY 1974 DISNEY TRAINING WHICH IS WHAT THEY WANT. TO ME, IT WOULD BE A PRIVILEGE TO IN A PLACE WHO'S VERY NAME MEANS, "MERRIMENT." I JUST HOPE I MADE MY POSITIVE ATTITUDE AND EXPERIENCED ABILITIES CLEAR.|
|TIME IS RUNNING OUT. BUT I WILL REMAIN OPTIMISTIC. MAYBE IN THE FINAL DAYS, I'LL ADOPT THE MANTRA OF HUMMING, "TWENTY-TWOOOOOOOOOO."|