{"id":1955,"date":"2018-11-11T13:03:52","date_gmt":"2018-11-11T18:03:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=1955"},"modified":"2018-11-11T13:17:32","modified_gmt":"2018-11-11T18:17:32","slug":"skeoch-sample-5-afraid-part-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=1955","title":{"rendered":"SKEOCH SAMPLE #5 AFRAID (part one)"},"content":{"rendered":"
SAMPLE #5<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
AFRAID<\/div>\n
(part one)<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
alan skeoch<\/div>\n
Nov. 11, 2018<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
It\u2019s  easy to pretend I was a big time football player in high school now that I  am 80 years <\/div>\n
old and winner of the Wildman  Trophy, Toronto Star and  Telegram All  Star choices.  But<\/div>\n
that is  not true.  The truth is I was  scared out of my pants those early years at Humberside.<\/div>\n
Second string lineman in Grade Ten.   I sat on the bench for most of the games terrified that<\/div>\n
Mr. Burford would put me on the field where I  was  sure to be a miserable failure. My job<\/div>\n
was  simple\u2026to knock people down so  the ball carrier could  score touchdowns.  use my<\/div>\n
shoulder and cross body to do  so.  Deep down  I am  not a violent person so  the thought<\/div>\n
of slamming my body  into somebody  else seemed rather rude.  Best to stay on the bench<\/div>\n
and  look eager but really be fearful of failure.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
So I  whistled.  Whistled?  Yes, \u201cWhenever I feel afraid, I hold my head erect and<\/div>\n
 whistle a  happy  tune\u2026So  no one will suspect I\u2019afraid\u201d. Got that song in my brain<\/div>\n
from the musical called  The King and  i with Deborah Kerr singing.  Memorized  the <\/div>\n
lyrics and applied  them every time I was  afraid.  Like the time when I  got \u2018doored\u2019<\/div>\n
on my bike by a woman who opened passenger door fast and knifed  me .. broke<\/div>\n
my clavicle.  She left me there in the gutter with arm hanging down.  I whistled\u2026sang\u2026<\/div>\n
put my bike together and peddled home singing\u2026then fainted into my mothers  arms.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Whenever I feel afraid<\/span>
I hold my head erect<\/span>
And whistle a happy tune<\/span>
So no one will suspect<\/span>
I’m afraid<\/span>

While shivering in my shoes<\/span>
I strike a careless pose<\/span>
And whistle a happy tune<\/span>
And no one ever knows<\/span>
I’m afraid<\/span>

The result of this deception<\/span>
Is very strange to tell<\/span>
For when I fool the people<\/span>
I fear I fool myself as well!<\/span>

I whistle a happy tune<\/span>
And ev’ry single time<\/span>
The happiness in the tune<\/span>
Convinces me that I’m not afraid<\/span>

Make believe you’re brave<\/span>
And the trick will take you far<\/span>
You may be as brave<\/span>
As you make believe you are<\/span><\/div>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n
Whistling, however, turned  out not to be a good idea as a second string grade Ten football player<\/span><\/div>\n
at Humberside Collegiate back in 1954 because our coach was looking for a way  to build the boys<\/span><\/div>\n
up for the game.  \u201cWho is  whistling?\u201d  I put my had up. \u201cHere, you, Skeoch..stand up on the bench.<\/font><\/span>\u201d<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
Now I  was  really scared.  \u201cThis boy was whistling.  The last thing we need in this game against<\/font><\/span><\/div>\n
Riverdale is over confidence.   Whistling is over confidence.  No one whistles.  Focus on the game.<\/font><\/span><\/div>\n
OK, Skeoch, get down.\u201d   I was  mortified\u2026terrified\u2026humiliated.   Now in 2018, I know what the<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
coach  was trying to do.  He wanted to give a pep talk and my whistling was as  good a way as any<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
to do  so.   But being centred out did  not make me feel too good\u2026magnified my fear.  Made me<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
even more afraid  I would mess up if ever I was sent into the huddle and actually have to hit someone.<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
My good friend Jim Romaniuk, also on the bench as  second  string quarter back, kept pointing to<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
me every time coach Burford turned to size up his second stringers.  I wished  with all my heart<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
that Jim would not do that.  I liked the bench.<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n

<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
But I did  feel  rejected at the same time.  I  wanted to play but feared failure.  Now, at 80, I realize <\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
that was  quite normal for a kid with my <\/span>chromosomes.   There was  another incident where  rejection<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
happened.  Sort of humorous  really.  Our quarterback Dave Bradley was an outstanding athlete\u2026tall, lean, confident\u2026<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
a natural leader who actually understood the game.  He knew when to throw a pass and when to<\/font><\/div>\n
hand off the ball to Big Vic, our full back who seemed  to like heavy physical contact.  But Dave<\/font><\/div>\n
made a big mistake one game.  He forgot his shoes.   \u201cListen up boys, Bradley has forgotten his<\/font><\/div>\n
spikes\u2026left them at home.  We need  someone to surrender his spikes to Bradley.  Who will  do<\/font><\/div>\n
that?\u201d  My chance for glory.  I raised  my hand.  \u201cSkeoch\u2026same size feet\u2026let\u2019s see your spikes.\u201d<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
Coach Burford looked at my spikes then gave them back to me.  \u201cNo good! Anybody else?\u201d<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
My spikes were old  and  worn.  Worse still they were split in two in the centre.  Sort of like the <\/font><\/div>\n
shoes worn by clowns.  They hurt my feet really.  Certainly  not the kind of spiffy spikes that<\/font><\/div>\n
Dave Bradley would  wear.  I was embarrassed.  Trying to be heroic\u2026to help the team\u2026I was<\/font><\/div>\n
rejected  again and did my best to fade into the background.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
One  muddy game  in the east  end of Toronto was a  horrific experience.  Coach  Burford had<\/font><\/div>\n
armed us  all with mud spikes on our boots.  Long stiletto like things  with blunt ends.  \u201cThose <\/font><\/div>\n
longer spikes will Give<\/font><\/div>\n
you more purchase in the  mud, boys.  Now go out and beat Malvern.\u201d  Well we  won the game but<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
the cost was  great\u2026too great.  Eric came off the field with a mud  filled<\/font><\/div>\n
hole in his leg where a  mud  spike had  sliced  him.  Brutal looking thing.<\/font><\/div>\n
So brutal  that i  felt weak in my knees.  By then I was in Grade  12 and had<\/font><\/div>\n
a first string  position.  Expected to be tough but felt rubbery.  That night Eric<\/font><\/div>\n
was  taken to Dr. Greenaway who cleaned the wound but had  misgivings  concerning<\/font><\/div>\n
a devastating infection.  Eric and I slept in the same bed  at home. \u201cAlan, see this<\/font><\/div>\n
needle?  If Eric starts to have convulsions\u2026throws a  fit\u2026shove in this needle.\u201d<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
I lay awake all night fearing the worst.  But Eric survived.  This was  a tough game.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
Coach Burford  insisted  we meet every lunch hour in his  room to go  over plays.<\/font><\/div>\n
And  to build solidarity.  One lunch hour  chalk talk was  memorable.  Burford was <\/font><\/div>\n
going over expectations when the person in the desk behind  me began tapping.<\/font><\/div>\n
Tap\u2026tap\u2026tap.  It was Don Phillips.  He was not being disrespectful.  he was having<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
a fit\u2026rolled to the floor.  Convulsing.  Brhord quickly got a ruler in his  mouth so  his<\/font><\/div>\n
tongue was  not severed.  He came around eventually but we were all stuned.  Was  Dons<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
fit really the result of a brain confusion in the football game that week?  We never knew<\/font><\/div>\n
Don was  no longer on the team, sadly.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
Years later, when i became a football coach at Parkdale C. I. I made a  similar mistake.<\/font><\/div>\n
So i forgave coach Burford.  My mistake was worse\u2026a  terrible thing really,.  I hesitate<\/font><\/div>\n
to even tell you about it.   OK, here goes.  Forgive me.  \u201cBoys, we are going up to Lawrence Park.<\/font><\/div>\n
Those guys think you guys come from Cabbagetown.  They look down on you.  I want you<\/font><\/div>\n
to go up there and kill them.\u201d   Awful\u2026awful\u2026awful.  And  it got worse.  The field  was slick  <\/font><\/div>\n
with mud.  Splashy lucky mud.  One of our boys  made a sliding tackle on the Lawrence<\/font><\/div>\n
Park ball carrier.  They slid  towards our sideline bench.  Our guy held the Larence halfback\u2019s<\/font><\/div>\n
head up a bit.  Then when they slid into a good muddle, he hollered \u201cCabbagetown, eh?\u201d<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
and  shoved  the halfback\u2019s helmeted  head face first into the mud.  I saw it all.  What a lousy<\/font><\/div>\n
coach I had become.   Made me remember the incident of whistling.  Yes, I really got our<\/font><\/div>\n
boys fired  up for victory.  But at what cost?  What a lousy  example of a  coach I  had become.<\/font><\/div>\n
The boy that was so afraid years earlier had become the encourager of violence.  Not my<\/font><\/div>\n
proudest moment.  <\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
  Left Alan  Skeoch and  Grant Weber after a  good game, Toronto Star photograph\u2026circa 1958  Right,  circa 1961 at U.  of T. Many University days<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
were spent playing inter facility football. At football  practice I Made my first date  with Marjorie when she leaned out her residence  window and  I hollered  \u201cWhat are<\/font><\/div>\n
you doing tonight?\u201d \u201cNot much.\u201d \u201cSee you at seven.\u201d  That made football very meaningful.  We married.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
Back at Humberside I grew older.  Became  a first string left guard  and  inside linebacker.  Got<\/font><\/div>\n
good  at knocking people down.  Burford  was  a great coach.  I forgave him for the  whistling incident.<\/font><\/div>\n
He knew every step every player<\/font><\/div>\n
had to take on the field.  I can still take those steps.   I could take my place on the field even<\/font><\/div>\n
today.   Nah!  Too old.  We won  a lot of football games  at Humberside\u2026became city champions.<\/font><\/div>\n
In Grade 13, I was  startled when awarded the Wildman Trophy and various  City All  Star designations.<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
Coach Burford  spoke to me privately.  \u201cAlan, you have won these awards\u2026earned  them\u2026butJef<\/font><\/div>\n
remember It\u2019s the t team that won\u2026all the players as a unit.\u201d  I looked Burford  in the eye.<\/font><\/div>\n
\u201cI know that, sir, I really know that\u2026the best player I have ever seen is our halfback, Richard Mermer,<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
he should get all the awards, not me.\u201d   I believed that then and  I  believe that now.  I am not <\/font><\/div>\n
puffed  up\u2026wth inflated ego.  Just lucky.  <\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
My best friend, Russ Vanstone, was on the line beside me for all those  years.  He had arms  of steeI.<\/font><\/div>\n
When he hit an inside  linebacker there was  no bounce backwards. My brother Eric was an End\u2026he could catch<\/font><\/div>\n
the ball\u2026score  touchdowns.  More glory possible.  God we loved that  team\u2026the unit\u2026all my friends in all positions.  <\/font><\/div>\n
Ready  to help me. Take Big  Ed  Jackman for instance.  He was our left tackle, a lineman. In one  bad game  i complained toEddie about <\/font><\/div>\n
the St. Mike\u2019s defensive lineman.  \u201cEd, that son  of a bitch  doesn\u2019t charge.  He waits  for me and then<\/font><\/div>\n
knees  me in  the mouth.\u201d  \u201cWait until the play goes the other way,  I\u2019ll get him.\u201d  And  Eddie planted  a  cleated<\/font><\/div>\n
foot right between the  legs of that bastard.  Sounds  awful,  doesn\u2019t it.  So juvenile. But that\u2019s the way  we were.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
My career in football began  at Humberside when I was  s skinny runt trying to fit into the world around me.<\/span><\/font><\/div>\n
Scared  most of the time.  But I endured.  Made lifetime friends.  Russ and  I even married roommates at U. of T.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
But it is our high school team\u2026those still <\/font><\/div>\n
living\u2026that  meet twice a year for old times sake.  <\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
Now for some truth.  Every game I ever played\u2026at high school or University\u2026I was always<\/font><\/div>\n
a bit afraid.  And in my mind I whistled  a  happy tune.  Still do  so when confronted<\/font><\/div>\n
by adversity.  Why play?  Friendship is a  big factor.  Working\u2026playing\u2026alongside a bunch <\/font><\/div>\n
of other boys  and  young men was  a great bonding  experience as proved  by the <\/font><\/div>\n
fact we still get together and tell the same old  stories\u2026somewhat improved\u2026and  laugh<\/font><\/div>\n
together.    <\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
alan skeoch<\/font><\/div>\n
Nov. 11, 2018<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
P>S>   Part 2 will trace the consequences  that followed when  my  baby  left hand  finger got<\/font><\/div>\n
crushed  by a cleated  enemy boot.   Sounds silly I know.  But the  consequences  of that smashed<\/font><\/div>\n
 finger changed  my life  completely.  Some of you may  want to read  about it.  Some of you will<\/font><\/div>\n
not give a damn and press  delete.  I  do  not care.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n
P.P.S.   Thank you Them Norris for triggering these memories.  Your reflections on Humberside<\/font><\/div>\n
came alive to me.  They also  made me see your dad in a totally different light.<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/font><\/div>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

SAMPLE #5 AFRAID (part one) alan skeoch Nov. 11, 2018 It\u2019s  easy to pretend I was a big time football player in high school now that I  am 80 years  old and winner of the Wildman  Trophy, Toronto Star and  Telegram All  Star choices.  But that is  not true.  The truth is I was  scared […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1955","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1955","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1955"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1955\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1955"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1955"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1955"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}