During my formative years, I used to spend Friday nights in the Fall at Wilbur Field in Oswego, NY. The Oswego High football team plays their home games at that venue. My sister Donna and oldest brother Jeff used to play in the marching band at intermission of the Buccaneer home contests. My mother would bring my brother Kevin and I along to the games so we could pal around with our friends, while she proudly watched the band.
I was already forming a life-long love for sports, so it was fun for me to watch the game on the field. There were also countless pick-up football games for kids my age surrounding the 'big field'. Although I never played organized football, a passion for the grid-iron game remains with me today. Fortunately, the losing culture that has surrounded the Oswego program hasn't deterred me from loving this sport. I guess that's why I'm an avid supporter of the Buffalo Bills and the Duke Blue Devils football teams respectively.
Anyways, it was a cool, crisp night in the Autumn of 1986. A clear sky filled with stars and a full moon shone over the crowd. I believe the Bucs were hosting the New Hartford Spartans. After a highly spirited 1st half the band took the field. I stopped to watch my brother Jeff on the field, blasting his trumpet. After their performance was over the two teams emerged from their locker rooms.
As I remember it, New Hartford began to have their way with the Bucs in the 3rd quarter. As my interest in the contest waned, I was beckoned to join another pick-up game with my friends. I was tearing up the field,running and throwing for multiple touchdowns. It was as dominating a performance as Oswego fans had ever seen. A small crowd began to form around our little battle, as word of my legendary play began to filter through the crowd. As I whipped my new found fan base into a frenzy with my play, I could hear my name being chanted by the on-lookers. I believe a petition was formed to shift our contest to the main field as the Spartans were cementing their strong-hold on the Varsity game. Although a shift over to the 'big field' never came to fruition, a new star was unleashed nonetheless.
Following our spirited contest, my classmates and I returned to check out some of the 4th quarter action between our hometown boys and the hated Spartans. Some of the people on the sidelines began taunting New Hartford in an attempt to distract them and possibly get them off their game. However, the Spartans remained in control with the exception of one player. Apparently he'd had enough of the chatter and chased us away with a full water bottle that he hurled at us. Fortunately the fence stopped his missile as we ran to safety.
Many of the kids in our posse had aquired quite a thirst as a result of pursuing me all over the field during our game. Not me though. I could have played all night. I ventured over to the concession stand with them anyway. And that's where the evening became even more memorable.
As they were all scrambling for loose change to grab a soda, I had my eyes on a different prize. I was a sucker for sour apple Blow Pops. If you don't know what they are, then shame on you. I'm not sure who invented the Blow Pop, but it was nothing short of pure genius. Its a lollipop that rewards you with chewing gum when you reach the center. What boy, a mere few weeks shy of his 11th birthday, wouldn't be in heaven with such a prize.
So, as I dug a shiny brand new dime from my pocket, I quickly marched to the front of the line. There was a very attractive co-ed manning one side of the concession stand, so naturally I went to her. I walked up to the counter an plopped my dime on the counter and said:
"Can I have a Blow Pop?"
Her jaw dropped. I thought, maybe I wasn't clear enough. Then I realized what I had done, so I requested again. This time with proper manners.
"May I have a sour apple Blow Pop PLEASE?"
There, that should have done the trick, but to no avail. Again, her jaw dropped, and I still had no Blow Pop in my hand. So...I figured why not try this one more time. In a very deliberate voice I, again, requested:
"CAN...I...HAVE...A...SOUR APPLE...BLOW POP...PLEASE!!"
It was then that I realized why my first three attempts had not been rewarded. What I was actually saying to her was:
"Can I have a sour apple BLOW JOB please?"
I'm not sure who was more red in the face at that point, me or her. I do know, that when she finally gave me my sucker, I'd never ran so fast (not even during my domination on the side football field earlier that night). I wish I knew who the girl was that waited on me that brisk, Fall evening. I know one thing though, I'm sure neither one of us will ever forget the events of that night.
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