Turkey Bowl 37

Editor's note: Lars did, indeed, return the MDF Bowl. Just not to me. 

Let’s begin with the elephant in the room: Lars will not be playing in the Turkey Bowl this year. While not having Lars to lock down that all-important 3-yard circle five yards or so past the line of scrimmage, on the downhill side of the field, will be a difficult-enough challenge to overcome, the real problem is that he won’t be bringing with him the passel of nephews who’ve been the lifeblood of the Turkey Bowl for the past few years.

More egregious is that, as of this writing, he has not arranged to return to the Most Dominant Force Bowl, so that it can be awarded to this year’s outstanding player. That’s just poor form. However, without Lars’ kith and kin, the MDF race is wide open. Can Michael Nulty step up to the challenge with his Trubisky-esque ‘stache? Can Owen bounce back in his return from injury? Can Kesin just show a little athleticism for once?

The BIG NEWS is that the Commissioner got engaged in the off season!  Kate Myers’ spirited-and-successful debut at last year’s Turkey Bowl (who can forget this wily rugby vet’s willingness last year to lay her body out on the cold, hard Orchard Park turf!) sealed the deal. The nuptials will take place over the summer in the Finger Lakes. Stop by if you’re around. Dodger will be in the wedding party. If you haven’t met Dodger yet, you’re missing out on one of the cutest dogs around. Just ask Kate to see a picture. She might have one or two on her phone.

Speaking of cute dogs, the Nulty family just adopted Bea, a deaf, 12-year-old shih-tzu.

Look at this picture. If you can identify everyone in the picture, I’ll buy you a beer at Nulty’s Thanksgiving Party. I was able to identify everyone except for one person. I also have no idea who the photographer was. Kesin, perhaps, since he’s not in the picture? I would also love an explanation for why I’m wearing that hat. Best guess is this picture is from circa 1994, back in the tackle days. Everything in this picture reeks of optimism. Why else would Nulty be wearing that outfit?

Most of the people in this picture haven’t played in the Turkey Bowl in years, some more than twenty years. I used to get irritated when I’d run into past players, like at a high school reunion, and the subject of the Turkey Bowl would come up and they’d say, “Oh, are you still doing that thing?” As if the Turkey Bowl can be reduced to a thing. But now I look at pictures like this and I think about how great it is that we’ve had so many people experience this great tradition over the years. I imagine that at least one of these people, one of the ones whose names have been lost to history, will be sitting at Thanksgiving this year and feel a twinge of nostalgia, or a transitory pang of middle-aged pain, and remember fondly for a moment or two their experience in the Turkey Bowl.

This year I’m not sure how the parents v children breakdown will manifest itself. I’m pretty sure that the adults have gotten slower over the last twelve months. I’m also pretty sure the children haven’t. The kids are on a two-year winning streak, and while two is clearly in the fluke range, if they win this year and make it three, I’m going to have to seriously consider some rule changes to curtail their rampant cheating and loophole exploitation to restore a competitive balance.

I got a panicked DM from Grampa Doug MacDonald this morning explaining that Brian’s nephew is now 6-feet tall, wearing a size-13 shoe, and is this the year we’re going to abandon the kids v parents model. Good question. However, because I don’t know who’s going to be playing this year, I can’t answer it right now. Like most good TB-related things, it will have to be a game-time decision. However, I’m leaning towards keeping the rivalry going for at least one more year, then we can call it “adults” vs kids and draw the line appropriately.

While we’re looking at pictures, here’s one of the extremely photogenic 2018 Crew:

This year will be the 37^th edition of the Turkey Bowl. There have been some lean years, where only six or eight people would show up to play a half-hearted game mostly just so that we could say the tradition continued for another year. There are 22 people in this picture, more than that picture from 25-or-so years ago. That feels good.

I’m thankful for the place this game has in my life and for everyone who plays, has played, has thought about playing, might one day play, watches, or just worries about those playing or watching. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be on Thanksgiving morning at 10:30 a.m., than at Orchard Park, sharing a cold beer and a warm Taylor Ham sandwich with people I love.

See you on Thursday!