Glory Days
Tomorrow night my old high school is having a ceremony to retire the jersey number of my buddy Chris Heinold.
Chris was a dominant player back in the early 80's and he went on to captain Canisius' basketball team. For years and years he won tournaments all across the state, and even had a stint playing professional ball in Germany.
When Chris called me to invite me to the ceremony I asked him why they weren't retiring my jersey right along with his.
"Well, if it were measured in how much you couldn't jump, how unathletic or slow you were, your name would have been in the rafters years ago. You were a superstar in all those categories."
Yet I do feel honored by tomorrow's ceremony because for years and years, it was the Heinold-Fazzolari show. I'm not talking on the court, mind you, but I was no dummy back then. I understood that the best way to have fun was to hang with the best player on the team.
Chris and I sat beside one another on the team bus - we were the only ones allowed to bring food. We threw bologna slices at the cheerleaders, laughed when we were supposed to be quiet, and made fun of everyone else on the team. Of course, we also talked a lot about the game and I counted Chris' points for him during the battles.
Our children have heard each story hundreds of times:
There was the two on nothing break that Chris and I went on with just a few seconds left in the half in a Christmas tourney.
Chris having already scored about twenty of our first half points selflessly tossed the ball to me so that I could get my name in the paper.
I missed the layup.
He got the rebound and dunked it through, but the horn had already blown to end the half. To make it all more story-worthy we ended up losing the game by two.
We had lost 44-42. Chris had scored 30.
"You suck," Chris said when he got on the bus at the end of the game. "Do you realize that if you'd made that lay-up we'd have gone to overtime?"
"Do you realize if you'd scored thirty-three we would have won?" I responded.
Story after story. Laugh after laugh.
I congratulate my friend as they hoist #32 to the rafters. If life were fair #15 would be going up right next to it.
Chris was a dominant player back in the early 80's and he went on to captain Canisius' basketball team. For years and years he won tournaments all across the state, and even had a stint playing professional ball in Germany.
When Chris called me to invite me to the ceremony I asked him why they weren't retiring my jersey right along with his.
"Well, if it were measured in how much you couldn't jump, how unathletic or slow you were, your name would have been in the rafters years ago. You were a superstar in all those categories."
Yet I do feel honored by tomorrow's ceremony because for years and years, it was the Heinold-Fazzolari show. I'm not talking on the court, mind you, but I was no dummy back then. I understood that the best way to have fun was to hang with the best player on the team.
Chris and I sat beside one another on the team bus - we were the only ones allowed to bring food. We threw bologna slices at the cheerleaders, laughed when we were supposed to be quiet, and made fun of everyone else on the team. Of course, we also talked a lot about the game and I counted Chris' points for him during the battles.
Our children have heard each story hundreds of times:
There was the two on nothing break that Chris and I went on with just a few seconds left in the half in a Christmas tourney.
Chris having already scored about twenty of our first half points selflessly tossed the ball to me so that I could get my name in the paper.
I missed the layup.
He got the rebound and dunked it through, but the horn had already blown to end the half. To make it all more story-worthy we ended up losing the game by two.
We had lost 44-42. Chris had scored 30.
"You suck," Chris said when he got on the bus at the end of the game. "Do you realize that if you'd made that lay-up we'd have gone to overtime?"
"Do you realize if you'd scored thirty-three we would have won?" I responded.
Story after story. Laugh after laugh.
I congratulate my friend as they hoist #32 to the rafters. If life were fair #15 would be going up right next to it.
Comments