2012

Turkey Bowl XXX

This past September, I began teaching an 11^th grade English class as part of my regular job duties.  In addition to teaching The Great Gatsby and reading the tortured prose of adolescent analytical essays, I find myself in a frenzied and hormonal whirlwind of teenage high school angst.  And since Sam turned 13 last week, I find myself more and more often suffocating under a cloud of Axe Body Spray and anger.

What does this have to do with football, you might ask?  Well, it occurred to me as I sat down to create this year’s newsletter that the first Turkey Bowl took place when I was in 11^th grade.  And now I’m teaching 11^th grade. So in a sense, I guess I’ve come full circle.  Or something like that.  In another sense, this is the time of the year when I question my own version of history and my ability to do math. How can this be the 30^th Turkey Bowl, I ask myself. What if my recollection is wrong? What if it’s not the 30^th Turkey Bowl?   And then I go over the story in my own head so that I can repeat it with conviction to anyone who asks:  the first game was played over Thanksgiving weekend in 1983 when a group of us gathered in Memorial Park to play football after a night of debauchery at a bar in Newark whose name escapes me (help me, Glosh!) watching Walter HK Tore.  In 1984, my senior year of high school, we played in Orchard after watching Joe “Basadile” Santasiere score on a kickoff return in his final high school football game. I distinctly remember Joe showing up at Orchard to watch us play later that day, too sore from his game to join ours. 

In 1985, we were all in college, and the game was well on its way to becoming a tradition.  In 1987, this newsletter debuted.  The rest, as they say, is history.

But on the occasion of such a momentous anniversary, I longed for more proof.  And that’s when I turned to my journals.  Some of you may be remember that back in the day, I was a bit of a diarist.  I began keeping a journal (not a diary or a beer log, but a journal) in 1982 and kept it up pretty regularly for a number of years.   So I turned to the archives, the papers that scholars will undoubtedly comb through some years from now for clues about…something or other.  (And that’s only if they find my manifesto, which is pretty well hidden.)

Anyway, I dusted off the notebooks from high school and turned to the entries from Thanksgiving 1983 and found---nothing.  No mention of Walter HK Tore, no mention of Memorial Park and no mention of football.  Nothing.  No worries, I thought: it makes perfect sense that I didn’t write about it after the first one, because it wasn’t really the first one until the second one happened, anyway.  Right?  So I opened the next notebook and turned to the entry for Thanksgiving 1984 and found—nothing. 

WTF?

I did find these quality, teen-angst driven entries, though.  These are unedited, though I did redact some names:

9/17/82

Columbia won against East Orange 5-0.  ----- scored.  Saw ----- at the game and she saw me and didn’t say one word to me.  Bitch.  ---- was at the game also. Dick.

----‘s grounded for two months and he says that he’s never drinking again until he’s 17.  Right.

Tuesday, 10/12/82

Another boring day.

Wed. 10/13/82

Another boring day.

10/27/82

Did physics homework for three hours.  Went to the library and found nothing on the Navajos.  Shit.

11/1/84

Columbia soccer lost to West Essex in the first round of the State Tournament. ----, ----, and ----- all missed penalty kicks.  Last night, ---- had a kind of consolation/birthday party, which was fun.  They weren’t as bummed as they could have been, but ---- and ---- really [screwed] up.

12/3/84

Now about Kesin.  Well, for some reason…Rich was talking about swallowing goldfish. Then, fortunately or unfortunately, ---- had goldfish.  These weren’t your little carnival type goldfish, these were five-year-old, five-inch-long goldfish.  Kesin ate one.  He didn’t just swallow it, he chewed it up.   I was pissing at the time and was bummed that I missed it. 

Well, Sunday Kesin and I went to the Union Market and bought her two goldfish.  Then we went to bring them to her house and right when we pulled up out front, we lost it.  We all just started cracking up. It was very hard keeping a straight face bringing it to her. It was funny as shit. The only thing is that now when people hear about it, it will all be out of context. That sucks.

There are dozens of other close-to-the-event recollections of other infamous incidents from my past. Many of the names of those involved now populate my Facebook friends’ list. Which says something about me—or about Facebook. What, I’m not absolutely sure.

But where is the stuff about Turkey Bowls of yore?  Maybe I shouldn’t dwell on it so much.  I should just accept what I wrote down; after all, the record is the record, and I shouldn’t lament an honest document.  There is more to life than the Turkey Bowl, isn’t there.  But it’s a bit of a bummer that there isn’t more evidence.

Yesterday, Owen asked, “What time is our game on Thanksgiving?”  My heart soared at his use of the first person plural possessive pronoun (I’m teaching English, remember?).  And I realized that the evidence, the history of the game, is right there in front of us. It’s part of us.  And not to get too schmaltzy or anything, but the game is now a part of our kids’ lives, too.

In our annual neighborhood Fourth of July block party softball game, my father would always play catcher.  We usually played with one of those big, 16-inch softballs, the ones they use in the Midwest that don’t require any gloves when you’re playing the field.  Dressed in shorts, loafers, and a plain white t-shirt, he’d use his big hands, minus half a digit, of course, and field the position with the proper amount of seriousness, secure in the knowledge that his glass of gin was only a few feet away on the curb, waiting to give him a between-innings boost.  My favorite part was when he would shadow the runner to first base, just in case there was an overthrow from third or short. 

What will our kids remember about us when they tell stories of the Turkey Bowl?  What are they saying—or writing—about us now?  I’ll probably never know, but that’s much more interesting than what I may or may not have written—in cursive, mind you—in my bedroom while listening to U2’s Bad and waiting for someone to call me on the one land line our house had.

I like to think that I have grown a bit since them. As proof I offer the most recent reviews of the Turkey Bowl from my journal.  Note the marginally better syntax and the notably less anger.

2004

The Turkey Bowl.  We had our lamest showing ever—six guys: Nulty, Shelffo, Novak against O’Neill, MacDonald, and Kesin.  We got our asses kicked, too, because Brian was channeling the mad qb skills of Bart Starr.  That on top of the fact that we were just too slow to keep up with Kesin made for a lopsided game.  But I had a great time running around and the weather was awesome: 70 degrees and sunny.  And as soon as the game was over, it started to rain. 

All of that running caught up to me, though.  My knees are swollen and my thighs are tight.  My toe nails, of course, feel like they’re going to fall off at any minute.  The worst thing, though, is this new injury I have.  At some point during the game, I got hit in the ribs, just below my right pec.  And it kills.  It’s a sharp pain that really kicks in when I sneeze or cough or when I try to push up with my right arm.  I think I may have cracked a rib and when I woke up today and it still hurt a lot, it got me thinking about going to the emergency room today.  We’ll see how things progress. 

2005 

The real game officially ended when we started inserting our children into the game.  First came Doug's kids and then eventually all of them got in.  We did this because Jacky Jenks was upset that Doug's kids weren't allowed to play.  I tried to explain to her that it wasn't merely a matter of inserting one kid, that doing do represented a fundamental shift in the Turkey Bowl.  I also wanted to kick some more ass. Whatever.

2006

I had a couple of good plays, but I didn't leave the game with a good taste in my mouth. 

2007

No mention.

2008

When Zusi showed up and went on their side, the game was effectively over.  I couldn’t throw very well and the footing was slow, so I couldn’t keep up with anyone.  At halftime, the kids took over the field and when halftime was over, it became a mixed kids-and-adults game that didn’t have any real focus or purpose.  But the kids had fun, and that’s the important part.  Even if the game broke up early and left me needing to go for a run afterwards.  That’s definitely the first time that’s happened.

2009

The Turkey Bowl was great.  As predicted, there were only five adults, but we had a lot of kids, so we worked them into the game from the beginning.  My team ended up losing, but Owen won the MVP with his performance: sack of Doug MacDonald for a safety, an interception, and a touchdown reception.  The MacDonald bloc of votes carried him over the top, and they don’t understand his talents, but it was a legitimate vote.  I’m touched. Sam had a good game, too.  Everyone had fun and the weather was beautiful.  A good day.

2010

The game was the first official kids-grownups game, with Brian taking over as Pied Piper for the young’ns. I had fun playing, though I was a bit too timid for my own tastes a couple of times, and of course I’m fat and slow, too, so that hurt me a bit.  But I threw a couple of nice touchdown passes and I made some plays on defense.  It was all good.  Sam and Owen had fun and the game ended in a tie.  Mr. Hogenauer showed up yet again for the second year in a row—I just remembered, wasn’t Ken supposed to be hosting them in California this year?—as well as Rachel and Beth.  It was a good game. 

2011

I think yesterday was one of the more pleasant Thanksgivings I’ve had in recent memory.  We left a little later than I would have liked, but we made it to the game on time.  The weather was balmy and I played in shorts. It was the first official kids vs. grownup game, with the Kesin kids, the Shelffo kids, two of the Nulty kids, and two MacDonald kids. Then Lars showed up with a whole passel of kids, and it was game one.  The adults won pretty easily, because youth can’t overcome 29 years of playing together.  I felt fat and slow out there on the field, but I had a good time and made a few good plays.  Owen played well, and Sam did, too, but there was too much chaos on the kids’ team for anyone to really shine. 

They’re not exhaustive reviews of the game, but they do a good job of capturing my feelings from the game.  That’s all I really need, I guess, a reminder that the Turkey Bowl is a good time. 

The Turkey Bowl allows us to annually reconnect with each other and walk down memory lane while creating new stories to tell.  That’s the very definition of tradition, I suppose.  I hope that this year’s edition will allow those of us hit hard by Sandy or other sad events to focus on something more fun.

I hope to see everyone Thursday morning at 10:30 in Orchard Park.

2011

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.

2010

It's All About How You Prepare

When I was in eleventh grade—coincidentally, the same year the Turkey Bowl began—my history teacher, Mr. Spear—whom I still maintain showed up stoned to school at least once—told me that I would never have as much free time as had in high school. Now that I’ve grown up, I’ve realized just how right he was. I’ve got a fantasy football team to manage and I have to help Sam and Owen manage theirs. I’m in two football pools and have to get my picks in every week. Thursday is trivia night (we won last week!) and don’t even get me started on keeping up with my favorite television shows. I’m also training for a 5K while shuttling my two kids to basketball practice in 4 different basketball leagues.

In other words, I’m busy. So busy, apparently, that I didn’t realize until very recently that Thanksgiving has descended upon us yet again. This year it really snuck up on me. I mean, I would swear that just a couple of days ago, it was summer and Thanksgiving was but a dim light on the horizon. Now as I am scrambling to get ready for the big day, I realize that Mr. Spear’s pronouncement was not the advice of a wise sage but a curse. That’s right, I’m blaming my lack of preparation this year on a teacher I had 27 years ago.

But it’s a different story with the kids—they’re ready. Despite my busy schedule, I’ve been able to play a lot of football catch in my side yard—with the kids, of course. I play permanent QB and Sam and Owen alternate on offense, and despite some predictable disagreements and questionable refereeing, there have been some good plays out there. I shouldn’t be surprised, really, because Sam just finished his third year of tackle football, playing on the same team with Jasper Kesin, and Owen acts out every football game he sees on television, in real time—in our living room. And I’ve heard that the Nulty kids have been getting ready for Thursday, too, and I just know that the MacDonald boys have been entertaining their college friends with their own tales of Turkey Bowl glory. I even heard some young Turkey Bowl veterans whispering about secret plays to be used against the grown ups.

I think it’s entirely possible that we may see our first full-blown kids vs. grownups game this year. Hell, we might as well do it now while we have a reasonably good chance of beating them.

(Side note: on the last night football practice before the last game of the season, the coaches on Sam and Jasper’s football team decided to shake things up a bit with a touch football game, parents vs. kids. Including the four coaches, there were a total of six adults playing against a full team of kids, in pads and helmets. The adults won, and I have to say, we were very happy about the outcome. The head coach in particular was positively gleeful about the victory and did nothing to hide it from his son. That competitive nature at least partially explains why he’s the head coach, I guess.)

And if we can’t beat them fair and square on the field, I bet I can come up with a good curse that will haunt them for the rest of their lives, if only to prove that I did learn something in Mr. Spears’ class.

Here’s a video that will help everyone get ready for the big game, Turkey Bowl XXVIII. See you on Thursday at 10:30 a.m.

2004

Turkey Bowl XXIII

My excitement for the Turkey Bowl usually begins to build in August, as the summer fades away and my body goes into that back to school mode that none of us will every truly be free of. But this year, something happened on my way to true excitement when I had some unsettling realizations. They are as follows:

    There won't be as many players this year as I would have hoped.
    I won't be able to run as fast as I do in my imagination.
    My passes won't be as true as I want them to be.
    And the plays I think up just won't be that creative.

These thoughts sent me into a bit of a downward spiral that resulted in a newsletter draft about which my wife said, "You can't post that. You'll have a bunch of depressed, middle-aged men if you do." I believe she also used words like "bitter" and "discouraging" in her review.

I also received some counseling from Andrew Kesin who I'm sure had an internal debate about whether to post my screed as it was and take out a large life insurance policy on me or to talk me off the ledge. He decided on the latter and made me appreciate how much the Turkey Bowl has evolved over the years. It really is a sacred tradition.

So I'm feeling much better today, thanks. (I guess I've got to stop drinking that dark whiskey when I write these things.)

Anyway, this year over Thanksgiving the Class of '85 has its 20-year reunion (class of '85 rules! All other classes drool! Excelsior!) and we'll be playing in the 23rd Turkey Bowl. The game this year will be touch. We'll play on the lower field this year so that we can keep a better eye on any of our children who might be attending, as this year there will be much more focus on family than in years past. Among other highlights will be the now-traditional post-game rocket launch. (Please, someone remember to bring batteries to the game this time.) Weather permitting, of course.

For those of you who might have forgotten what Orchard Park looks like, here's a little diagram:

As of now, it looks like we'll have seven definite participants: Doug MacDonald, a long-time player whose love of the Turkey Bowl runs so deep that he's actually disappointed that we play it on a holiday because he thinks it should be a national holiday on its own merits; Lars Novak, a TB stalwart whose physical size won't let him be stealthy on the field so he chooses to be stealthy about whether he's playing or not; Andrew Shelffo, who's still referring to himself in the third person in these newsletters after all these years; Brian O'Neill, who has two more years to hone his stories from his spectacular performance in last year's game and impress the ladies at his 20-year reunion; Andrew Kesin, who's teaching Jasper how to tackle the TB way (you grab the guy from behind and dig your chin in between his shoulder blades); John Nulty, the defender of the little guy who always ends up defending as little as possible in these games; and Brett Jenks, who is returning to the game this year after a long hiatus and is therefore fresh blood who will have to cover Kesin this year.

Other people have made some noise about playing, most notably Chris Zusi and Rich Bayer, but nothing firm as come from these guys as of yet (insert impotence joke here). I don't know if Brian Zusi will show up this yearahe was a no show last year, but if the does show up, take a look at him: he's a pretty big dude.

If you're reading this and not sure about whether you should play or not, come and play. Don't make us, because of a lack of players, challenge the Dads on the other field to a game. I mean, if you're going to be reliving your high school days, why not play a little football with some friends?

THEC's will be served at 10, and the game will follow immediately. After the game there will be a special award presentation and then the rocket launch.

One more note. To keep these newsletters fresh, we've decided to open it up to whomever would like to write one. Anyone can do it, really. If you're not sure how to begin, here's how to get started.

How To Write A Turkey Bowl Newsletter

Begin by putting everything in context:

Once again, it's that time of year when [insert timely reference, preferably sports-related] and when [make a joke at a participant's expense; an O'Neill is drinking too much one usually works.] Yes, once again it's time to gather in [insert Orchard Park here; it's like when rock stars use the name of the city they're in at the moment]. As you might recall, at last year's game [two jokes in a row to point out the foibles of players in last year's game, like MacDonald dropped more passes than Steven Hawking and Nulty ran around so gingerly, I'd have sworn that he was wearing high heels, followed by one left-handed compliment, e.g., who'd have thought that O'Neill would be channeling Terry Bradshaw the whole game; 20 years of underperforming on purpose finally paid off in a landslide "Dominant Force" performance.]

Segue to this year's game [Be sure to reference what number of annual Turkey Bowls the current year's edition will mark at wenty third annual in this case; or, if that's not appropriate, be sure to reference the players' advancing ages. For instance, we will have one player over 40 this year, with more to come next year.] Try to stoke the competitive fires by insulting some of the players through real or fictitious quotes from other players [e.g., after last year's game, in which Kesin, O'Neill and McDonald kicked serious butt, running rings around Shelffo, Novak, and Nulty, Nulty told me that our biggest mistake was in bothering to cover Doug at all. We should have double teamed Kesin, he said. Kesin told me that he knew his team was going to win as soon as he heard what the teams were. But the really disappointing part was that he didn't even have to use his mother's hot tub after the game, because he hadn't been pushed enough to be sore. But he used it anyway.] Next, belittle those people who aren't playing, preferably by mocking their excuses [insinuating that someone is effeminate for not playing, choose any player who has played in the past who is not playing this year, is sufficient.]

End the newsletter with a reminder about when and where the game will be played [Orchard Park, 10:00 a.m.] and then wish everyone well.

That's it, you're done.

Of course, you can write whatever you'd like. If you want to write something - perhaps some post game words - just send it in.

2003

Turkey Bowl 2003

The same stalwarts return to the Turkey Bowl year after year, in some sort of a twisted swallows-return-to-Capistrano-thing (derelict, drunken pork lovers return to the 'Wood, or something like that).* Over the past two decades, however, many players have participated in the Turkey Bowl.* We mourn the absence of some of these players, and others, well, frankly we're glad they're not playing anymore.*

Everyone who plays in the game, though, leaves behind a little bit of themselves (or their dignity or their clothing.)** And the next time you're at Orchard Park, if you listen really carefully, you can even hear the whispers of the ghosts of Turkey Bowls past riding through the park on those exotic and sometimes toxic Maplewood winds.*

All right, so maybe you can't hear the ghosts.* And you also can't get into the heads of the players.* But now, for the first time, I present "What the Players Think," a collection of thoughts that reflects the focus, dedication, and determination of Turkey Bowl Participants. *These are presented in no particular order and are attributed to no particular person.* But these words capture the essence of what it's like to play in the greatest game of the year.*

I'm playing center again?* What the fuck?OeOh good, O'Neill's playing.* That's one guy I know I can tackleOeIs that a normal pain?OeGreat.* Another Thanksgiving, another ice pack at the dinner tableOeAt least I'm not hungoverOeAt least I'm not at home with the familyOeI've got a house, a job, and a family, what the hell am I doing playing tackle football on Thanksgiving?OeI got laid off.* I want to hit somebodyOeI'm 48-years-old and making a comeback.* I'm like the Michael Jordan of the Turkey BowlOeOh shit, he didn't make the tackle.* Now I've got to do somethingOeIs it half time yet?OeSuckers.* I've got a hot tub where I'm stayingOeYou know what?* I don't think I'll be that sore tomorrowOeIs that a hemorrhoid?..You cover KesinOeWhere am I supposed to go on this play?..I'll rush this timeOeJesus Christ!* I was openOeHe didn't even look my wayOeWatch the blitz.* For Christ's sake, watch the blitz!OeThank God I'm still drunk.* Otherwise that would have hurtOeI hope Mom's making those little potatoes this yearOe I wonder if any random people will show up this year?OeGefken makes me drink all that Jameson's, and then he doesn't even show up to play?OeDoes Shelffo think he's running on egg shells out there?* Look at him with those little baby stepsOeI hope I don't hit traffic on the drive homeOeThere's the Wolf fucking the PigOeWhy doesn't Nulty race his wife before the game any more?OeNot one Dominant Player vote again this year?* What's up with that?OeOh great, my family's here.* Now I've got to make a play or somethingOeLooks like he's beefed up a bitOeThat year when we played in the snow?* That was coolOeHow soon after dinner can I make myself a Turkey sandwich and not be rude?OeDid you see that block I made on that last play?OeWhat's with that "three alligator" shit?OeGreat.* Here comes Kesin.* He's gonna lower his head and come at me with knees and elbows flying.* Maybe I'll just try to push him out of boundsOe.It's not that cold out.* ReallyOeI wonder if there will be a Turkey Bowl next yearOe I should have worn cleatsOeHe's throwing it to Da Neph.* He'll drop itOeWhatever happened to those flags we played with that one year?OeWhich beer is mine?OeYou call that a tackle?OeI am very sore and drunk right now and I will be going to bed earlyOeNext score winsOeI like the canned cranberry sauce better than the fresh kindOeWhat number Turkey Bowl is this?OeOh God, he's going deep again?OeAll you pussies who want to play flag can suck my big Italian cockOeDixie Ruled.* What a cool houndOeDidn't he used to be fast?OeThat Fourth of July party at Gefken's was a lot of fucking funOeWhere is everybody?OeIs that dog shit over there?OeI wonder what the neighbors think when we show up every Thanksgiving?OeThey've been in that huddle a long time.* I bet they're gonna do something trickyOeThere are a lot of kids over there on the sidelines this yearOeOkay, everybody go longOeNo laterals past the line of scrimmageOe

2002

Turkey Bowl 2002



I realized as I sat down to write this annual Turkey Bowl missive that I'm at a bit of a disadvantage now that I'm no longer a Jersey resident.* For the first time, I cant give updates on field conditions, the latest happenings in Hoboken, the City, or at O'Reillys; I can't even tell you if Texas Weiner II, the one across from Home Depot, the one where Kesin stops every Thanksgiving morning for the Turkey Day Taylor Ham, Egg and Cheeses is still operating.* Let's face it, the Commissioner is out of the loop on Maplewood Matters.* But I've realized that there's really not that much difference between Hamp and the Wood. For instance, here's a partial list of the wildlife I've seen in Northampton over the past year:

    Bobcat
    Deer
    Fox
    Coyote
    Beaver
    Bear



And here is a sampling of the seamier side of Northampton, directly from

Northampton is answer to the News-Record, the Daily Hampshire Gazette.

A Stanton Street resident reported to police Thursday at 1:33 pm that his whole collection of 140 state quarters had been taken from her apartment.

 Alan Everett's dairy calf was the victim of a black bear attack a few weeks ago.* The bear attacked at 4:15 am, and Alan hurried outside after hearing the calf's bellow."It was just a black mass, Alan said." i was on top of the bear before I knew what it was." I kicked him in the head as hard as I could."

Alan Roche was arrested yesterday for disorderly conduct, and indecent exposure.* Police repor that Roche was yelling obscenities in the parking lot next to the Northampton Brewery.* When police came, Alan took off all of his clothes and sat down, refusing to move.* As a police officer approached him, Roche stood up and attempted to jump into the police car and drive away. When the police prevented him from doing that, he resisted; and when they got him to the police station, he refused to put on any clothes.* Police suspect Roche may have been under the influence of drugs.

You see, Northampton is just like Northern Jersey.* Just take away the good food, the metropolitan sense of importance, the significant sports teams, and WFAN, and replace it with blue hair dye for men, work boots, wallet chains, and pickup trucks for the women, and any sense of urgency in a supermarket checkout line, and youill see what I mean.



Now, for some other items that need to be addressed.* First, the numbering of the Turkey Bowl.* I have a distinct memory of Paul's Tavern the night before Thanksgiving in 1983.* Walter H.K. Tore is playing, and a bunch of us are there, drinking and having a good eol time.* Fast forward to the next day: Iim in Memorial Park, and I'm running down the field as fast as my hangover will let me.* Phil Neery, Jackie Zusi's husband, he of the tree-trunk, piston-action thighs, is grinning at me as he blocks me, not once, but several times.* Why I bothered to get off the ground after the first plastering, I have no idea.* But I could say the same about drinking again after all of the liquid plasterings I've subjected* myself to.



Anyway, in my mind, that game has always been the first Turkey Bowl.* While it certainly didnit have the concomitant pomp and glory that the current Turkey Bowl has in fact it wasn't even called a Turkey Bowl it was the first Thanksgiving gathering to play football on Thanksgiving of the group of people who would go on to form the core of the Turkey Bowl as we know it today.* The next year, my senior year in High School, I remember playing football in Orchard Park on* Thanksgiving as Joe iWalks like a Birdi Santasiere came limping by after his last high school football game.* We didn't go to that game; Kes, Rich, Glosh, and a few others played our own game, in what more closely resembled a Turkey Bowl.* The final piece of the puzzle was put in place the next year, 1985, when the Cutter and Non-Cutter teams made their first appearances.*


So, what does it all mean?* Well, if you go by the 1983 date, that would make this yearis game the Twentieth Turkey Bowl.* That's right: the Twentieth Fucking Turkey Bowl.* An awesome achievement, by whatever redneck hick, butt-ugly-website, Internet-glorified, piss-ant game standard those illiterate mongoloid posters might apply.* Not that I let those posts get to me, or anything.


But here's the thing: I don't want it to be the 20th Turkey Bowl, because I donit think Iim going to make it this year.* And my check of the records indicates that this will mark the first time in TWENTY FUCKING YEARS that I've missed the Turkey Bowl. And I donit want to miss the Twentieth Turkey Bowl.* I guess I've got to be more diligent in my family planning.* Thatis right, the Commissioner and his wife are expecting a baby on Thanksgiving this year. Bottom line: this year's Turkey Bowl is not the 20th, despite what I may have said in the past.*



Training note of the week: I began training for a tackle game last week.* Sam and I were in the yard, and he said, "Dad, let's play football.I'll tackle you and then you can tackle me." We then ran around the yard, trading tackles. It took me until two days later before I remembered our game and realized that was why I was so stiff.*

Kind of got me psyched for Thanksgiving.**


You see, no matter what year you use as the starting point, the Turkey Bowl has always been tackle.* Last year was a tough year for all of us, to say the least, and the Turkey Bowl accommodated the unusual circumstances.* The idea was to get as many people involved in the game as possible, and as tackle was seen as a barrier to getting people to play, the idea of an alternative to tackle developed.* Brian Zusi supplied the flags, and I went to great pains to ensure an anonymous vote, spending almost ten minutes on designing paper ballots in Word.* Then we voted.* And tackle won, on a very close and surprising vote.*


And then the politicking began.* One person claimed that the only reason he voted for tackle was because he didn't think that there was any chance that tackle would win, and he could have the best of both worlds: taking the manly step of voting tackle while never having to actually tackle or be tackled.* Another person simply came right out and said that he wouldn't play if the game was tackle, and that's what broke the stalemate.* Faced with the prospect of not having a game, the tacklers gave in to the flaggers.* And the game was played.*



I had a great time playing last year.* Yeah, the flags took some getting used to, but I think they were "okay."  I mean, they did allow me to match my previous decades tackle total in one game.


So what should we do this year?* I think the game should be tackle. Now, this is only a recommendation; it should probably be agreed upon before the game this year, and I may not even be there, anyway. (In my absence, I'm designating Andrew Kesin as Acting Commissioner).** I don't necessarily want to play tackle, but what's the holiday season without a little discomfort?



Who will be there?* Off the top of my head, hereis who I think will show up: Kesin, O'Neill, an O'Neill friend and/or in-law, Lars, Nulty, Doug, Gefken (probably not playing?), and Brian Zusi.* Others who might show up are Dave Mairo, Rich, and me.* Beyond that, all bets are off.** So, Doug and Kes: remember those Thanksgiving mornings a couple of years ago, when we waited for people to show up, privately wondering how we would fare in a one-on-one-with-a-permanent-QB game?* I envision a similar scenario.* But don't worry, I'm sure there will be the same results, too: eventually, enough people will show up to have a game.*


The Game will go on, as it has for almost two decades, starting at 11 am on Thanksgiving, in Orchard Park. If people want an earlier time, please post to that effect.*


Happy Thanksgiving to all.


The Commissioner



*



*

2001

Turkey Bowl 2001

Thanks for keeping the Dream alive!!!

--Doug MacDonald, 1995

On the first blustery, fall-like day here in New Jersey, in the first week of November, my thoughts immediately turn to the Turkey Bowl, not surprisingly. Sitting at my desk, not wanting to work and far removed from the pain and stiffness that I associate with the Turkey Bowl in late November/early December, I spend my time thinking fondly of Turkey Bowls past. I try to remember specific plays, but I canit. I try to remember specific scores, but I canit. What I can picture, though, are the many people whoive shared a huddle with me over the years. In fact, Iive realized that whatis given me the most pleasure over the last 18 years or so are the various friends whoive participated in the Game at different times. And not just the "regulars," but the lesser-known, the random friends whoive drifted in and out of the game over time. How can I forget playing with Joe Martineau or Rusty Zusi or Nick Spagnoletti? How can I just plain forget Steve Dietz (No, really: I want to forget the guy; I canit)

But there are also those people whoive touched our Turkey Bowl lives without actually ever setting foot on the sacred soil of Orchard Park. These well-wishers send their best over Internet, looking in on the Game virtually through the Web site. Iive perused the archives and picked out some of my favorite entries. Allow me to share:


This web page is the biggest poad of compleate and utter shit i have ever seen in all of my ******* sad life

SO A BIG GREAT SHIT TO YOU
GOODBY TOSSERS.

kiss my big ******* arse

Thanks. Itis always flattering when people take time out of a busy day to compliment us on our hard work.


Mike from Canada sends his best, too. He writes:

Hey Im here to talk shit. You want to play a real turkey bowl. Come to Canada. We have been playing for five years now. We have the meanest, toughest and most drunk and high players ever. We even have some proffesionals that come back to play. Justin Ring (Hamilton Tiger Cats) Mike Morasco (BC Lions) Actually Im just here to say have a ****in good game and its good to see other guys doing the same thing. Peace..Mike Russon, The Canadian

Weive even received gifts from people, though Iim still waiting on the 55-gallon drum from Jmaples:

You guys have what looks like a pretty good Turkey Bowl and all but down here in North Alabama we have THE Turkey Bowl. Last year's was complete with an 8 on 8 matchup, complete footage of the game with expert analysis and commentation, the Turkey Bowl trophy, and about 20 hot chicks watching us. The "shit" talking has already begun for this year's game and it looks as if a couple 55 gallon drums of whup-ass will be delivered. Good luck and know that the REAL TB is happening every year in Arab, Alabama. We're here if you ever want to join us. Each November 27th.

Theyire definitely keeping it real down there. Visions of whup ass and hot North Alabama chicks never fail to warm the cockles of my heart.

But, for some reason, our little game also seems to inspire a bit of consternation in some people. For instance, angel wants to know:

you guys are a piece of shit..turkey bowl.com rules, you copy there site..get real, make something else up, you copy there game,and shit. . .**** you too. . .

A good point. A5150PIMP (Van Halen fan, perhaps?) maintains,

All of you punk ass mutha ****az who player hate on me cuz I am shacking up with your ladies can lick DEEZ NUTZ.

Now honestly, how can you argue with that? Perhaps the only way to sum up this argument is to quote frosty, another poster:

I am frosty the mystery person

I want to extend my sincere thanks to all whoive written. But what you donit realize is that the Turkey Bowl is really all about camaraderie and getting together with friends. For itis when weire together that we truly realize that only those closest to us can offer true inspiration:

You guys are nothin' but a bunch of overweight, outta shape has-beens who are trying to re-live some sorta athletic glory that you never lived in the first place. I feel sorry for your kids who will probably have to endure the "having to play sports because my Dad needs to feel competitive" syndrome. The only redeeming thing about these games is that you guys don't wear helmets. Maybe it will knock some sense into you.


Enough of my rectal spew. I'm late for my nail appointment. PK

(Please note that PK has never played in a Turkey Bowl. Nor is he likely to.)

What these various posters fail to recognize is the essence of the Turkey Bowl, the thing that makes playing in it so special Gefken summarized it this way once:

For when we go into battle on the burial fields of cutter history we go ready to stain the pools of grass red with cutter blood pumping from something we always called HEART.

The notion of teams divided along the lines of who lives where has dissolved over the years. Even the line between who does and doesnit play has gotten a bit fuzzy, especially if you remember the way I "played" last year. Itis become less about the game and more about getting together. This year maybe more than any other. If youire in town, stop by Orchard Park around 11 am on Thanksgiving, say hi and tackle someone, if you want. To make the game more enjoyable for spectators, we will be providing some sort of a tailgate, hopefully something catered by Chef Eric of Verona.

Game Notes:

The Basadile may be making a rare appearance in the East, walking like a rare desert bird on the streets of SO/M . . . Gefken is recovering from his foot surgery and wonit be playing . . . Thereis rumor of multi-generational Zusi participation this year, which means an uncle to play with Brian "Iive been busy drinking my face off, basically" Zusi . . . Townsend and Lars and Hogenauer are all anxiously awaiting the imminent birth of children . . . There may be an appearance by members of the Jenks family . . . The number of children may outnumber the number of players for the first time ever . . . An anonymous, pre-game vote will determine whether this yearis game will be the first ever to be played as touchOe

One last item. The Turkey Bowl lost a great friend this year in Chris Colasanti. Dom was a guy whose mere presence made everything better. He was smart, funny, and always looking to have a good time. But most importantly, he had heart and a heart as big as the Turkey Bowl itself. Every year for the past decade or so heis asked me if thereis going to be a Turkey Bowl this year. Then heid decline to play when I said yes. "Naw, canit do it," heid say. "You guys are crazy for playing tackle. Mark my words: someoneis going to get hurt. Mark my words."

I looked at that annual encounter as a little ritual Dom and I did to keep everyone safe. It wonit be the same this year without him.

In Dom's memory, I've unilaterally decided to name him this year's Turkey Bowl MVP and to officially retire the award. From now on, weill have a new award: the "Dominant Force" award, which will go to participant who had the most fun and contributed the most to the game.

See you on Thanksgiving.