The Brussels Post, 1976-10-13, Page 9Sugar and Spice
by Bill Smiley
FoOtball and sanity
Now that the hockey hysteria is over, we
armchair athletes can settle into' the
football season, and lend our expertise, so
lately freely offered to Scotty Bowman and
the Canadian team , to those who really
need it, like the hapless Russ Jackson and
the hopeless Toronto Argos.
I must confess that I'm not as keen on
football as I once was. When I was a young
buck, I was crazy about it. I knew all the
players in the big league, all the standings,
all the records.
When I was a kid, we lived not too far
from Ottawa, and I saw some of the greats
in action — Dave Sprague, Bummer
Stirling, Tony Golab.
When I was about 14, my big brother
took me to a Grey Cup final, a classic
between Winnipeg and Ottawa, with the
great little Fritz Hanson, one of the first
American imports, scampering around on
the field like a waterbug on a pond until he
was finally crushed by some huge
homebrew, a behemoth like, Bunny
Wadsworth of the Rough Riders.
Those were the days when people went
to watch football games because they loved
the game, not because it was a status
symbol to have a ticket, and also a great
occasion for a weekend binge.
My first Grey Cup game was also my
introduction to rye whiskey. I sat, between
two French • Canadian gentlemen,
knowledg able about football. They had a
mickey of rye. After a particularly great
play, they'd have a polite swig each, to
keep out the bitter November chill. With
Gallic grace, they offered me a slug. My
Methodist background and teetotal parents
made me exclaim with horror. But my
14-year-old spirit of adventure made me
wet my lips, with one eye on my brother.
I've had a warm spot for the combination of
football, French Canadian gentlemen, and
rye whiskey ever since. My mother would
have killed me, if she'd seen.
Nowadays, a kid like that would probably
have a mickey of his own. Or worse, he'd
be bludgeoned to death by some drunken
woman behind-'him, pounding on his head
and screaming: "Go, StaMps, Go!" even
though she didn't know the difference
between a wide end and a big bum.
In high school, I played junior, then
senior football. My best friends were the
jocks on the football team,-rather than the
academic types, the boys in the school
orchestra, the members of the stirdents'
council.
Autumns were not school work. They
were long months of crisp fall afternoons,
tackling, running, throwing, passing. Then
the hot shower, and the painful limp a mile
home through an October dark, with a
sprained ankle or a loose tooth. And the
occasional day of glory, when we stuck it to
Smith Falls or Carleton Place, and the
cheers were like manna.
In those days, there was no money for
fancy uniforms and buses to out-of-town
games. Most of us wore home-made pads
with felt from the local felt mill. There were
about half a dozen helmets for the two
teams. When we played out of . town,
parents and teachers transported the team
in their own cars. When we played a lime
game, every student and lots of
townspeople were out to cheer. The coach
was a volunteer.
Times change. In the high school in
which I teach, with a student population of
1,600 (my own high school had 400), it's
impossible, this year, to muster two teams,
senior and junior. We'll be lucky to have
one. Because of education cut-backs,
there's no money for buses to transport
the teams. When we do have a home game,
the students leave in hundreds to walk the
streets, or just goof around.
It's sort of sad. Football used to be
character-building, even though you
wound up with a tooth or two missing, and
a gimpy knee. But if you. weighed 140 and
tackled some brute of 190, you knew you
were on your way to being a man.
In my day, the emphasis was an offense;
running, passing, trick plays. But with the
massive influx of the American game, the
emphasis on defense, and television to
show it all, the game has become almost
dull, except for the odd brilliant outburst of
speed by some guy who is being paid a
phenomenal sum for his skill.
And the main idea now is "hitting".
That is, the player tries to collide with an '
opponent with such force, and in such a
• way, that the latter will be injured. And if
it requires breaking the rules deliberately,
as I've seen it done, for example, on kick
returns, then go ahead. Take the penalty,
as long as you can "hit" and injure the kick
returner when he's not set for a collision.
It's dirty, dirty.
I went to university, and I played there.
And I watched Joe Krol and Royal
Copeland and company, and it was still
great.
But after the war, the Yanks took over.
Now it's mechanized. You have an
"offensive" and a "defensive" team (we
used to play 60 minutes, both ways), and
the chief aim seems to be to disable the
opposition.
No wonder it's losing its poplularity with
today's students. They are not so dumb.
One of our high school coaches revealed
the new attitude. When he remonstrated
with one of his rookies, "Hit 'im ! Hit 'im!"
the kid retorted: "Why should I hit him?
He's my friend."
Another kid 'started walking off the field
in the middle of a play. "Hey! Where y ou
going?" the coach wanted to know. The
kid said: "I'm gonna have a rest."
It may not be football, and it may make
coaches grind their teeth to the jawbone
but it's sanity .
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BPS library gets new rug
The library at our school has lust received a pleasant addition. ?tbrightly coloured rug has been installed in one section of the
Nom for students to sit on while selecting books or when Mrs. Kirkby is conducting her storythne,
The students and staff would Itke to thank the grade 8 classes of 1974/75 and 1975/76 fOr the
money which they raised and,
donated to the school. The rug ,which was purchased for the kat), tame from this fund.
We would also like to thank Mr. Jack McDonald for his interest in th
e students at our school:
Every week more arid more people discover what mightY jobs e accomplished by low cost Post Y4nt
887.6641.Ads; Dial Bru'ssel 's
Because the money was raised by us an exceptionally good buy on
the students Mr. McDonald gave the rug.
HOURS
8 a oth.o.,.,:7 pm
Sunday 103.0 cia.ni
THE
WALTON INN
BANQUETS
and
FAMILY DINNERS
Closed Monday 887-9293
Friday Special
RAINBOW TROUT
DINNER
geaforth 527-0053
When in BRUSSELS Stop in at the
TE.XA.N GRILL & GAS BAR
Your Hosts June & Ken Wehster
THINKING
OF BUYING
AN
ORGAN?
CHECK THESE FEATURES:
v Quality Merchandise
v Lowest Prices
v Free Organ Lessons
v Layaway Plan
v Bank Financing
,' Free Home Trial
FREE DRAW For merchandise
worth $25" to $100.°°
. with each Organ or Piano
ordered during October.
at
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Choose Wurlitzer, Zachary, Farfisa,
Mark-O-Sonic organs: Wurlitzer,
Willis & Currier Pianos
SIC
WM$ tia .,centennial atmosphere
•
The church parlour assumed a
Centennial atmosphere as
members of the Afternoon Unit
gathered for their October
meeting, Some ladies came in
period costumes while others
displayed antiques and discussed
their origin.
Favourite hymns of the church
were sung throughout the
devotions which were convened
by Mrs. Miller, Miss. Skelton and
Mrs. Evans.
A recorded message by Rev.
Lloyd Brown, delivered at the
close of his ministry here, was
played. Included was a vocal duet
by Misses Marion Hoover and
Gwendolyne Mattin accompanied
by Mrs. E. Martin. An .old-fashioned tea of
Mrs. H. Thonias read minutes homemade rolls jelly and cheese
of former meetings of the ' was served by the conveners.
THE BRUSSELS' POST, OCTOBERili, 1976
W.M.S., the. W.A... •and the
Friendship Unit. These reports
dated back to 1930 - 40.- 50..
Mrs. H. Thomas read minutes
of former meetings of the
W.M.S., the W.A. and the
Friendship Unit. These reports
dated back to 1930-40-50.
Mrs. R. Cousins favoured
with a vocal solo, "The Garden of
Prayer'?
Appreciation was offered to
Mrs. Cousins for her many years
of faithful service as a member of
Brussels. United Church choir and
Womens Organizations.
Silence was observed in
memory of former members..
•