Goodfellows52: Talking turkey about high school football

Goodfellows52: Talking turkey about high school football: AUBURN, Maine — High school football was the main course on the Thanksgiving Day menu. For some reason, the 900-course meal at our gr...

Talking turkey about high school football

"Family traditions counter alienation and confusion. They help us define who we are; they provide something steady, reliable and safe in a confusing world." 

                                                              - Susan Lieberman

AUBURN, Maine — High school football was the main course on the Thanksgiving Day menu.

For some reason, the 900-course meal at our grandmother's house took a back seat until we froze our buttocks off watching two high schools butt heads in the early morning cold. 

The game was a social event for citizens who were just getting warmed up for turkey, stuffing and grammy's homemade apple pie.

But the game came first before all good citizens of Revere would indulge at the dinner table.

That was a tradition that lasted for decades. Filling our bellies with turkey was second to watching Revere and Winthrop slap each other around on the field.

The outcome of those two coastal communities slugging it out on the gridiron could be a real sore spot at the dinner table in the afternoon. 

I was a spectator and a participant during those Turkey Day games. I have suffered frostbite on snow-covered fields watching the Patriots roll around in the mud.

There is only one Turkey Day game played in Maine and that is between Portland and Deering. But in my native state of Massachusetts, football games are played across the Bay State.

Game day, 10 a.m.

Thursday mornings began with an 8 a.m., wake-up call from my frantic father — a sports fanatic who coached high school baseball for over 40 years.  You can find him on the couch with his face buried in the sports pages each morning.

Then came a round of phone calls to see who would be attending the game. We usually traveled with the Marras. Robert Marra was a music teacher, classical violinist and a man who studied the scoreboard page like a sheet from Mozart's music.

We piled into one car and sped off to the game. The crowds were huge. There were no distractions like cell phones. Nobody looked down but up at a game played by a bunch of tough kids who represented their community.

My dad and Mr. Marra would eventually unite with athletic director Silvio Cella, a former RHS football coach who ran his program like a U.S. Marine because he was a Marine who served in the Pacific during World War II.  All three men served their country. Cella and Marra both fought in World War II and my dad served during the occupation of Germany.

I played for coach Cella for three years. He was tough, but football is rough game, and if you don't enjoy being hit or knocking the other the guy to the ground, then play a more civilized sport like baseball or golf.

For two hours, we stood in the cold. The Patriots and Vikings traded blows before we finally began thinking about a warm meal and a hot cup of coffee

Time has the final say

I can't remember the last time my father and I attended a Revere football game. He is now 80 years old and he fighting his own battle with Alzheimer's.  

The disease is winning and the tradition of attending a turkey day game has vanished along with so many people I have loved.

All traditions are swept away by time, and there is not a damn thing any one of us can do about it.

Cronus (Titan god of time) always comes out on top.

I believe it was about 10 years ago when my father and I stopped going to the Turkey Day games. Mr. Marra and Mr. Cella sadly are no longer with us. And the loss our mother has slowed us all down.

But I know if I dwell in the past, I will lose the future, and that future is my son and wife.

No matter what lies ahead, I still have them, and many of my immediate family members, and that is helluva a lot to be thankful on this day.

Goodfellows52: Waiting for winter; Shopping and swapping for skis...

Goodfellows52: Waiting for winter; Shopping and swapping for skis...: We had a good run this season. Now its time to replenish the soil with natural fertlizer My majestic elm trees are bare, but thei...

Waiting for winter; Shopping and swapping for skis

We had a good run this season. Now its time to replenish the soil with natural fertilizer

My majestic elm trees are bare, but their leaves live on in my garden.

AUBURN, Maine — I want to thank November for being so kind to us the last couple of days. For people who enjoy the outdoors, the warm sun was a welcome sight.

We should count our lucky stars in Maine. We didn't experience the brunt of Hurricane Sandy and last week's Nor'easter produced only a dusting of snow that melted in a cold rain that same day.

November is a bipolar month. When it comes to warm and cold weather, November can go either way without a day's notice. 

Veterans Day was cloudy but warm on Sunday. Monday turned out to be bright and warmer. But I know what lies ahead, and there won't be a day at the beach until May.

I have seen Thanksgivings so cold that the skin on my face felt like a sheet of ice. And then there are those rare Thanksgivings when all you needed was a sweater to watch a Turkey Day football game at Paul Revere Stadium in Revere, Mass.

But I will give thanks to two spectacular days for giving me the opportunity to vacuum up the leaves with my Craftsman-built lawnmower and get the garden ready for next season.

I will never understand homeowners who spend days raking leaves when all you really have to do is mulch the stuff with a good lawnmower. Your lawn will appreciate it.

Cutting the lawn one more time meant I could cover and preserve the topsoil in the garden with mulched leaves and grass clippings. The winter will take care of all this mulch, pulverizing it into a sloppy mess over the course of the next five months. 

All this slop adds up to free fertilizer, courtesy of Mother Nature, who is a woman only a  gardener could love.

Shop and swap

Buying skis is a big-bucks purchase. It is right up there with buying a refrigerator or washer. 

My son, Anthony, is a ski patroller at Lost Valley in Auburn. I am proud of him and I like the company he keeps on the slopes. This select group of skiers are responsible for making sure all skiers are safe on the mountain.

Of course, I am on a budget. And the economy still resembles the aftermath of being hit by tsunami. So there's not a lot of cash on hand.

But despite our finances, Anthony still needed skis. We turned to the Auburn Ski Association's Ski Swap, which was held at Auburn Middle School on Sunday. We figured the Swap might just prevent us from taking a third mortgage on the house.

It was packed with skiers looking for a good deal. I had my check book in my hand as I prayed for a  bargain to come my way.

It did!

From out of the blue came Bob Sullivan — avid skier and all-around nice guy with the patience of a saint.

Mr. Sullivan has the knowledge of Olympian Jean-Claude Killy when it comes to ski equipment.

He found us skis, poles, boots and gloves ($212.00 total) we could afford, allowing us to outfit Anthony without forcing us to turn to a life of crime. We also sold a pair of skis for $57.00 at the Swap, knocking down our bill.

We live in difficult times, but Mr. Sullivan made it easier for this family of three to swing such a big purchase.

His help will keep Anthony on the slopes and us out of the poor house.

Thank you, sir.

Goodfellows52: When common sense finally prevails

Goodfellows52: When common sense finally prevails: “Common sense is not so common.”                                                                                                         ...

When common sense finally prevails

“Common sense is not so common.”                                                                                                                                   ― Voltaire

AUBURN, Maine - They finally figured it out that it was no longer worth going the distance to defend the running of the New York City Marathon this weekend.

It took them long enough to wake up and listen to the outrage from citizens along the eastern seaboard.

And all it took was Staten Island residents bawling their eyes out and pleas for help in front of homes knocked off their foundations.

Maine was spared from a storm that stayed to the south of the Pine Tree State.

New York City Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg did an about-face and made the right call to cancel the event even though it took days for his office to decide to put the kibosh on the race. But that decision should have been made the moment after Sandy blew through the area and leveled thousands of homes.

Sure, it would be an economic and morale boost to a city devastated by Hurricane Sandy. But I am not buying the argument that allowing the marathon to go on would have been in poor taste.

This decision wasn't about taste. It is about resources which have been stretched to the limit in New York, New Jersey and Connecticut.

Those areas hardest hit require a huge police presence to maintain law and order. New York City does not have the manpower to cover a race that runs through an area that was pancaked by a natural disaster.

Imagine runners sprinting through neighborhoods without running water and residents camped out in their yards waiting for the cavalry to arrive.

I shook my head when a marathon competitor whined about the race's cancellation on national television. I imagine he would have felt differently if it was his home that was washed out to sea or burned to the ground as helpless fireman watched from a distance. I guess he forgot that nearly 100 people lost their lives in a hurricane that was a 1,000 miles wide.

He doesn't have to go without water or look for his next meal. This athlete should act more like a marathon runner than a moron.

Now that this controversy has subsided like the raging flooding waters in NYC, the region can concentrate on helping displaced citizens recover from this destructive storm. In the long run, helping storm victims is what a recovery effort is all about.

After all, this was the cancellation of a race, but the real marathon will be about a tale of survival in the coming months, and this recovery will give all Americans a run for their money.