I have this dear friend that I don’t see or talk to often enough, but when I do we just continue where we left off. He has a lot of friends and as he explains, “It requires a lot of work”. They must, like I do, truly appreciate his efforts.
The anniversary of opening day at Schaefer Stadium in Foxboro, Massachusetts, the first true home of the New England Patriots, has come and gone. I was there and have a card to prove it. My friend doesn’t.
On that day the Patriots played the New York football Giants. This past week they played the Giants again in a preseason game and a few days before, I had gone to a concert with my friend and Jane. Both of these events reminded me of the adventure of attending opening day on August 15, 1971.
Now I do not condone some of the following activities, but way back when, we did some crazy and stupid things. One of which was gauging the travel time from New Bedford to a destination by the number of beers one would consume on the journey. Our guess for this trip was a case with plenty left over for the trip back.
The temperature this day was in the 90’s and the Patriots were not prepared for the traffic on Route One or parking cars. Route One was at a stand still. No one was going any where fast. By the time we got to the stadium it was already the third quarter and the case of beer was long gone. Fortunately we were able to down a few more before the Great Flush.
Ah, yes. The Great Flush. Someone at the stadium went to the bathroom (presumably after a few cans of smooth Schaefer Beer). And then someone else did. And then a whole bunch of people did. And the system couldn’t handle it. The sinks and toilets began to overflow. All of them. The bathrooms filled with water. It was disgusting.
Leaving the Stadium…I think the Pats won…we had to walk a few miles to where we parked the car. The traffic on Route One was, once again at a stand still. Cars were overheating and drivers and passengers were ready to explode.
My friend decides to walk to the other side of Route One and just as he reached the middle of the road the driver of one car jumped out and takes a wild swing at him, he ducked and let go with a shot to the guys nose and down he goes. Out of the car comes a guy that looked about 80 years old. He starts hitting my friend with his cane and I then try to break that up. I loose my glasses in the melee and someone yells the cops were coming and off we go. Only to turn around to look for my glasses. Found them and then ran like hell.
We got in the car and whoever was in the shotgun seat says “are you alright to drive?’ and whoever was driving said ‘no’ … and the come back was ‘OK then let’s get going” To this day we can not remember who was driving.
For his many friends and family … he has scores of stories to tell and you might want to ask him about some others that are quite amusing. These are some that I love so just mention some key words like … Bunny Bread tuxedo run … Tasmania or bust … Remember the flood … tell him who your father is … Mass DPW …. I could go on but this blog is getting way to long.
It was good to see you my friend. Let’s do it more often…and once again, congratulations on being inducted into the Fairhaven, Massachusetts Hall of Fame.
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