Turkey Bowl 2011 - Payback's All I've Got
I find myself longing for the Turkey Bowls of yore, when—not yet slowed by the burdens of being the main breadwinner for a family of four and having to worry about disability insurance—I could fly around the football field with equal parts speed and abandon. I miss those days when a younger version of me could easily adhere to the strict Turkey Bowl training routine that included closing O’Reilly’s on Wednesday night and without benefit of an alarm clock still show up early to Orchard Park on Thanksgiving. The only concession to overindulgence would be the ibuprofen I’d wash down with a beer illegally consumed in a public park. (What does it say that I shuddered as I wrote that sentence?)
I miss being able to back up my talk with a pain-free walk.
I’ve felt the effects of regret this fall. I guess after a year that’s seen hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, and a freak pre-Halloween Nor’easter, I find myself wondering, what’s going to happen next?, with the full knowledge that my football skills are not going to get better next year, no matter what I tell myself after the game on Friday morning.
Sure, I can focus on what’s really (but not really) important: how the game is more than a game, the camaraderie, the food, the company, the award ceremony--it’s a ritual and a reunion all wrapped into one. Sure, Lulu Kesin’s enthusiasm, Sam Shelffo’s quiet intensity, Alex Novak’s athleticism, and Mr. Hogenauer’s visits are all things that I look forward to. And with more and more kids playing, I don’t have to worry as much about whether or not we’ll have enough players to take rightful ownership of the field for a day. On the eve of its 29th incarnation, the game’s in good hands.
But, I have to ask myself, what’s in it for me?
I heard recently that Michael Nulty is looking to even the score against Andrew Kesin, and that made me smile. Owen Shelffo told me that he’s focused on three things: “M-V-P,” as he puts it. I can already picture the cool confidence the MacDonald boys, Kyle, Drew, and Ian, will bring to Orchard Park. Sure, they can put on a typical teenage “been-there-done-that” air, but that’s merely cover for their intense enthusiasm. They’re the elder statesmen among the second generation set. Don’t let their kindness fool you—they have enjoyed having that Dominant Force bowl at their house all year and they’re not going to just give it away without a fight.
That’s what it comes down to, really: self-promotion, bragging rights, and winning. Brian O’Neill’s evil laugh still rings in my ears from years ago. Inspired by his sweet touchdown passes to Kesin, the sound mocks my inability to stop the successful duo from scoring. The only way for me to make it stop is to prey on the weaker and smaller, the fruit of my loins. That’s right, the kids.
Most of the kids are at the age now where they may not entirely believe the stories we tell about past Turkey Bowl glory, but they’re willing to give us the benefit of the doubt. In other words, we still retain something of a hero status. I’m not saying very much, but a little something. So I say, let’s use that status—and our superior height and enhanced weight—to our advantage and put all the kids on one team and show them that a victory at the Turkey Bowl is something to be earned first and savored later.
If I can’t count on beating my kids and rubbing it in over dinner, what else do I have?
You can tell me on Thursday morning at 10:30 in Orchard Park. I hope to see everyone there.
