{"id":5913,"date":"2020-09-27T12:00:24","date_gmt":"2020-09-27T16:00:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=5913"},"modified":"2020-09-27T12:03:45","modified_gmt":"2020-09-27T16:03:45","slug":"episode-124-violence-part-two-football-and-my-little-finger","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=5913","title":{"rendered":"EPISODE 124 VIOLENCE PART TWO FOOTBALL AND MY LITTLE FINGER"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
EPISODE 124   VIOLENCE   PART TWO   FOOTBALL AND MY LITTLE FINGER<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
alan skeoch<\/div>\n
Sept. 2020<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
PART TWO<\/div>\n

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

<\/div>\n
The broken finger did not hurt that much.  It just got in the way \u2026 affected my typing.  Devastated<\/div>\n
my ability to take notes in class and to do homework.   All else was quite normal.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
I could still  play football.<\/div>\n
Even though scheduled for surgery in mid season.  Did I need surgery?  I do not remember how that <\/div>\n
happened because our family was not dependent on doctors at all.  Maybe mom<\/div>\n
thought it was necessary.  But that operation sure changed my life.   Short term change<\/div>\n
was for the worst.  Long term change was for the best.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
The surgery was slated for early October. Part way through the football season in 1956.  No need to <\/div>\n
tell anyone.  I just got on the bus and streetcar and went down to St. Jospeh\u2019s hospital on the appointed<\/div>\n
day.  Surely such  a small operation would not affect my football playing\u2026or my schoolwork.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Things did not go well at the hospital.  I was cloistered in a day surgery bed. Then a nurse came in<\/div>\n
and began shaving my right arm.  \u201cWhy are you doing this?\u201d  \u201cTo make sure the arm is clean.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cBut that\u2019s my right arm, the surgery is for my left hand finger.\u201d  \u201cSorry , extend your left arm.\u201d<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
I wondered if the nurse was, like me, left handed and confused.  No matter i was prepared.  Then<\/div>\n
given a shot of some kind of local anesthetic and wheeled into the holding bed just outside the<\/div>\n
surgery room.  A long wait.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Finally I was  wheeled into the surgical room.  It was a bit intimidating because the room had a gallery<\/div>\n
for nurses and doctors\u2026and maybe others\u2026to wach the surgery.  I was on my back looking at them<\/div>\n
when the first cut was made.   IT HURT\u2026REALLY HURT BADLY.  I screamed.  The doctor turned to<\/div>\n
the nurse  \u201cWhen was this boy given the local?\u201d   Turned out the anesthetic had worn off so they gave<\/div>\n
me another shot of something then proceeded open up my finger and put the bones in place then drive<\/div>\n
a long wire down the centre with its end protruding from the finger tip.   <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
There was blood.  I know that because some dripped out of the  cast as I went back to school<\/div>\n
on the street car.  Mom and dad were both working.  I told them I would be OK on my own.<\/div>\n
That was not the case.  At school once the antithetic wore there was pain but it was tolerable.<\/div>\n
I even went out to football practice after school but did not get into the usual rough and tumble.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
I was ready and willing to play by game day and managed to make a good shoestring<\/div>\n
tackle stopping the ball carrier.  Coach Burford commented\u2026.\u201dGood job, Skeoch\u201d and may have <\/div>\n
noticed my hand was in a cast.   I had not told him.  That was my last game for 1956. Playing was just too risky.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
I was soon in trouble at school  My left hand was in a cast.  I could not write\u2026no notes, no homework.<\/div>\n
And, worse, I was in Grade 13 and would face  departmental examinations in June.   I felt just terrible\u2026<\/div>\n
like my whole world was collapsing mourned me.  The teachers must have noticed because<\/div>\n
coaches Burford and Griffiths cornered me in the hall months after the football season ended.<\/div>\n
They asked me if football was at fault.  The phrased that differently \u2026i.e more carefully.<\/div>\n
\u201cAt fault for what?\u201d  They seemed to know my schoolwork was in free fall.  I felt helpless.<\/div>\n
By the time my cast was removed and the wire pulled out of my finger I was way behind and <\/div>\n
having difficulty with some subjects, particularly Physics.  But I did not want to admit it.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
In the departmental examinations I felt I did OK in most subjects. Not stellar. But I could write… maybe<\/div>\n
well enough to meet the minimum for university acceptance. Lots of blanks in my memory though. Then I had the black out in<\/div>\n
the Physics exam.  I could not remember one simple term\u2026\u201dS\u201d \u2026 <\/div>\n
in the mathematics of Physics.  So simple.  But my mind was blank.  Embarrassing, doubly so<\/div>\n
because our Physic teacher, Jack Griffiths, was also the senior football coach.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
GRADE 13 RESULTS\u2026LETTER OPENED IN AN ABANDONED BUILDING NEAR COCHRANE, NORTHERN ONTARIO<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
The results were mailed in July.  I was working with a survey crew near Cochrane in Northern Ontario at the time.  When the letter <\/div>\n
arrived I slipped away from our bunkhouse to an abandoned shithouse outside an abandoned school.  I remember it so<\/div>\n
well.  A big double seater\u2026blue or green\u2026solid.  The letter scared  me even before I opened  it.  I knew the word<\/div>\n
would be bad but had a faint hope I might make the bare minimum of 75% average.  <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Let me  cut to the quick.  My average was 72 or 73%\u2026not good enough.  I think I failed Physics.  Must have failed<\/div>\n
because of the black out.   My marks were too low for admission to the University of Toronto.  Mom and dad would<\/div>\n
not be a  problem.  They were the kind of parents that support their kids through thick and thin. All the same I<\/div>\n
faced a dilemma.  Was my school career over?  Or should I go back to Humberside for another year?  A failure.<\/div>\n
I thought about that the whole summer. What to do?   Alone and humiliated.  I think I dropped the letter in the<\/div>\n
shithole.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
When September came I decided to bite the bullet and go back to Humberside. I knew it would be embarrassing.<\/div>\n
Mom and dad did not interfere but I knew mom thought returning to school was a good idea.  Worst part<\/div>\n
of returning was that my brother was in Grade 12.  I would be his loser brother coming back for another year<\/div>\n
in Grade 13.   That first day back was excruciating.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
At least it felt so until I found my best friend Russ Vanstone was in the same position.  And many many others<\/div>\n
whose names I will not say.  It took guts to go back.  And it would take years for me to admit my failure.  I now<\/div>\n
know that failure is part of  our human condition.  We all fail sooner or later.  Many of us fail many times.<\/div>\n
It is not the failure that is so important.  It is how a person reacts to failure that is important. Having Russ<\/div>\n
with me was a great support.  We \u2018soldiered\u2019 on through life together.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
I blamed my little finger for the failure.  Now that is a laugh.   The finger may have been part of the problem<\/div>\n
but there were others problems.  Like not doing homework.  Our house was very small\u2026one bedroom.<\/div>\n
Shared by our dad when he worked nights.  Mom on the middle room couch always.  Dad on the front<\/div>\n
room couch when he was on the day shift at Dunlop Tire Corporation.  No place to study or do homework.<\/div>\n
Now That\u2019s a laugh.  Blaming our house for my failure.  <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Deep down I knew the failure was my fault.  And I was determined to make the best of things.  That year<\/div>\n
I actually got to enjoy homework\u2026reading was always a favourite occupation with me.  An escape.<\/div>\n
I asked Mr. Cruickshank whether I could write the history final by my own studying. The same with English<\/div>\n
and Mrs.  Charlesworth.  They gave me permission.  I did not know that teachers success was measured<\/div>\n
by the marks their students got in the annual department of education common exams. They could have refused. They said OK.<\/div>\n
They also did not make me feel like a failure.  They wanted me to succeed. Nice teachers who I admired<\/div>\n
even if Mrs. Charlesworth had lifted me off the ground by my ear for skipping her detention one day.<\/div>\n
(She was the girls volleyball coach. I decided to spend the detention in the girls gym rather than<\/div>\n
her English room.  Easier on the eyes if you get my meaning. Seemed OK to me.  Not to her.)<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
FOOTBALL\u2026THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
DO not get the idea I was some kind of nerdy suck that year.  I became a good student.  I know that..,proud<\/div>\n
of it actually.  But there was  a sharp learning curve.  Like my being Suspended!    A couple of the tougher guys in the<\/div>\n
school asked me to join them by skipping school for an afternoon just \u2018spot\u2019 one of he enemy<\/div>\n
teams\u2026maybe it was Riverdale.  I thought this was a good idea to help the coach.The three of us went to their game and noted their top players\u2026the plays <\/div>\n
they used most of the time.  The quarterback\u2026etc. etc.  Really sort of stupid was my first thought as we<\/div>\n
sat there among the Riverdale fans.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Next day<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\u201c Would Vic \u2014\u2014 and Ted \u2014\u2014 and Alan Skeoch report to the VP right now\u201d  Ted had taken me to shoot<\/div>\n
pool at a rough billiard hall in the Junction in the past.  W.E. Taylor, our principal actually came to the pool<\/div>\n
hall and escorted us back to school.  A good man.  He cared about us all.  But this seemed different.<\/div>\n
Mr. Herman Couke was our Vice Principal.  ..in charge of discipline.<\/div>\n
\u201cI would like to see each of you separately.\u201d<\/div>\n
Vic then Ted went in and came out \u2018suspended\u2019 from school for a week.<\/div>\n
Then came my turn.  I was not a bad  kid.  Not really tough.  Never in big trouble at school. So I<\/div>\n
was terrified when I met Mr. Couke.<\/div>\n
\u201cNow, Alan, I have to treat everyone equally\u2026.\u201d<\/div>\n
What great words.  That means I was being suspended as well as Vic and Ted.  I shook Mr. Couke\u2019s hand.  <\/div>\n
\u201cThank you, Mr. Couke\u2026thank you.\u201d  What a relief.<\/div>\n
  I had been treated<\/div>\n
the same as Vic and Ted.  Suspended.  Wonderful. To be treated otherwise would have had awful implications.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
As with most negative experiences in my life,  I took a good look. \u201cWhy the hell did I do that.<\/div>\n
Why did I skip school to spot Riverdale.  That was poor sportsmanship for sure.\u201d  And that would<\/div>\n
never happen again.  Any spare time I had that year would be spent reading.  With the exception of<\/div>\n
one of Streak McLelland\u2019s sex talks\u2026.like the talk on safes.  Most of the time I read.  Self selected books,,,<\/div>\n
all of Charles Dickens and Hardy\u2026then Steinbeck and even some socialist philosophy.  And the biography<\/div>\n
of Dwight Eisenhauer.  Books of all kinds\u2026not guided titles.  I had a journal<\/div>\n
that broke the days into half hours.  Each half hour I had a reading target.  If I finished early then I got<\/div>\n
a five minute reward to see what girls were in the reading room as well.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
That broken little finger had turned into a good luck charm.  My life became a total joy that year.  <\/div>\n
Shakespeare said it best.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\n

There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.<\/p>\n

William Shakespeare<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n


<\/div>\n
FOOTBALL<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
What a great year I had.  Very hard to believe really.  And undeserved I knew deep down<\/div>\n
there were other athletes far better than me.  But I could hit hard\u2026.block and tackle.  Never would I touch<\/div>\n
the football but we on the line did provide a route for our halfbacks and fullbacks to score.  I was even elected co-captain<\/div>\n
of the senior team\u2026and President of the Boys Athletic Association.  Honours that I could not believe.<\/div>\n
Then one morning both coach Burford and Griffitsh called me aside with wonderful news.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\u201cAlan, you have been chosen for both All Star City teams\u2026the Toronto Star and the Toronto Telegram.\u201d<\/div>\n
I was speechless.<\/div>\n
\u201cAnd Alan, we hope you realize this is as much a tribute to our team as an honour for you.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cI know that.  I also know there are far better athletes on our team than me.  Rich Mermer is<\/div>\n
the best athlete I have ever seen.  He should be the winner.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHe is a halfback\u2026beaten out by other halfbacks.  We know he is a fine person.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cThere is more to this honour.  There is a special All Star team dinner at Hart House<\/div>\n
and you can take three guests.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cMy mom and dad for two\u2026and would you come as my third guest Coach Burford.?\u201d<\/div>\n
He loved the chance to go.  My girlfriend at the time was a little miffed by the fact<\/div>\n
she was not asked.  The love affair was going nowhere but it took a little time for both<\/div>\n
of us to admit that.  This failure to invite her was just one nail in that coffin.<\/div>\n

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

<\/div>\n
\n

<\/div>\n
My final year at Humberside was terrific.  This picture was published in the Toronto Star after a victory.  Grant Weber was our<\/div>\n
Fullback, a glory position but he got the shit beaten out of him often.  I was a left guard, a protector of the fullback.  That final<\/div>\n
year for reasons unknown to me I was the All star Left Guard recognized by both the Toronto Star and the Toronto Telegram,<\/div>\n
daily newspapers.   Of course there were other All Stars.  The best athlete I have ever seen in my life, Rick Mermer, went<\/div>\n
unrecognized as did my fellow lineman Russ  Vanstone whose forearm smash hit like cement.<\/div>\n
My victory was mystifying but wonderful.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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

<\/div>\n
These honours all sound so terribly vain.  And undeserved really.  How do I speak of<\/div>\n
them without sounding like a pompous ass?   That takes me back to the broken finger.<\/div>\n
Without that broken finger none of this would have happened.  I just want to make the<\/div>\n
point that sometimes when everything is going wrong and you feel lower than a snake<\/div>\n
in a rut life may not be bleak forever.  Failure is a learning experience.  Savour it.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
other honours followed.  The Wildman Trophy and then I was even chosen as<\/div>\n
Head Boy by my new Grade 13 classmates.  It was a cornucopia of good things.<\/div>\n
Vanity?  Probably too much of that.  Not bad for a kid that could not tell the difference<\/div>\n
between right and left.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
My marks were good on the 1957-1958 departmental exams.  Middle of the pack<\/div>\n
kind of good.  Not the top of the mountain kind of good.  I was accepted at the University of Toronto,<\/div>\n
Victoria College campus.   Great.  Just great.  But why am I going there?<\/div>\n
Why am I university bound when our parents were distinctly working class\u2026mom<\/div>\n
a sweatshop worker in the needle trade and Dad a truck tire builder. Both<\/div>\n
proud and skilled workers.  But neither ever darkened a  university hallway.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
I had no idea.  No idea why I was going to university.  So I was careful when <\/div>\n
choosing courses.  I did not want to fail again even if failure was a part <\/div>\n
of the learning curve.  I loved the stories of history\u2026the people.  Not the<\/div>\n
judgmental part nor the oneupmanship competition.  I loved English as<\/div>\n
well and for the same reason\u2026the human stories.  And I really loved philosophy<\/div>\n
as presented by Dr. Marcus Long at University College.  It took some time for me<\/div>\n
to realize I was a humanist.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
VICTORIA COLLEGE FOOTBALL TEAM\u2026MULLOCK CUP CHAMPIONS (not that it matters anymore).<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Maybe I chose university so I could still play football.  Today football is as dead<\/div>\n
as a Dodo bird at Victoria College.  Not even lamented sadly.  That is one of<\/div>\n
the tragedies of modern university education.  No intra mural football teams.<\/div>\n
The field where we practised is now some kind of fenced off flower garden.<\/div>\n
Football has become A \u2018wasteland’ if I might twist T.S. Eliot\u2019s words.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\u201cWhat are the roots that clutch, what branches grow<\/div>\n
Out of this stony rubbish?\u201d<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Our football practice field is now a dead place.  When we were there in 1961 it was<\/div>\n
alive with the sound of men and boys making guttural noises and laughing at<\/div>\n
themselves.  Now it is \u2019stony rubbish\u2019.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Let me cut to the biggest event in my life that happened on that field when the field<\/div>\n
was alive.  My simple answer to people asking why I went to university.  Truth.  I was <\/div>\n
looking for a wife.  Pure and simple goal that made sense to me. That is a lifetime decision.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
And it happened on the Victoria College football field.  God\u2019s truth.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
We were doing our warm up.  Running in a great oblong circuit around the field.  Talking<\/div>\n
and laughing.  Then I looked up at a fourth floor window of Margaret Addison Hall which<\/div>\n
was the Women\u2019s residence\u2026really the girls\u2019 residence.  An attractive young person was<\/div>\n
watching us.  I knew her from a Soph Frosh dance the day before. so I yelled<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing tonight?\u201d<\/div>\n
Then continued my circuit with the boys.  Next time round, she yelled<\/div>\n
\u201cNothing much.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cMeet you at seven in the student car.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cOK.\u201d<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
So simple.  So amusing.  So short a comment for a lifetime decision.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Why was  she looking out that window?<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\u201cI was looking for Jimmy Randall from North Bay.  His girlfriend wanted<\/div>\n
me to say hello.\u201d   Looking for Jimmy.  Not even looking for me.  Such<\/div>\n
happens when the dice are rolled.  Marjorie soon got to know all the<\/div>\n
boys on the team.  She even became a cheerleader for the SPS football<\/div>\n
team\u2026the Engineers\u2026the opposition.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
That\u2019s where Bob Cwirenko was the outside corner backer.  Neither of us knew that<\/div>\n
until in one game I threw a good cross body and took him out.  What did he say\u201d<\/div>\n
Maybe, \u201cgoddamn Victoria bastard.\u201d  No.  Bob said and I remember this clearly.<\/div>\n
\u201cNice block Alan.\u201d  We had both been members of the Humberside teams.  We did<\/div>\n
not know each other well but both had the same feelings about university\u2026nervous.<\/div>\n
Why were we there?   His family had trekked across Eastern Europe to escape the<\/div>\n
horrors of post World War II as had many Humbersiders.  We still meet for luncheons<\/div>\n
to this day.  <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Why tell you this?  Because being a member of those teams was a lifelong <\/div>\n
experience.  A bonding that even extended into marriage.  Russ Vanstone and I<\/div>\n
even married roommates\u2026had children\u2026had careers\u2026met often and still do.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Recently Marjorie insisted I attend a Victoria College meeting with the Principal last <\/div>\n
year.   The place seemed dead to me because our field was \u2018stony rubbish\u2019 so<\/div>\n
I asked the Principal how the College manages to hold boys who seem lost.\u2019<\/div>\n
He admitted that there were problems.  There would be fewer problems if they<\/div>\n
kept the sports program healthy in my opinion.  Another problem, however, is<\/div>\n
the lofty academic standards.  Lots of kids come with marks in the high 90\u2019s.<\/div>\n
I taught high school for 31 years.  Not many boys had those grades because<\/div>\n
the fires of spring burned too brightly.  i.e. They were very interested in girls.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Summed up.  There is no longer a football field at Victoria College.  There is<\/div>\n
a big library but somehow the isolation of a reading cubicle does not cut it<\/div>\n
as much with me. Sue I spent a lot of time in those cubicles.  But not all the time.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
BACK TO FOOTBALL\u2026HAMBURGER MOUTH AND BROKEN FINGER<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

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

<\/div>\n

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

<\/div>\n
I was a lowly lineman. I never felt that way however.  I felt my job was integral to <\/div>\n
team success.  On my right was our new centre, Russ Vanstone, whose forearm<\/div>\n
smash after snapping the ball was awesome\u2026having experienced the forearm<\/div>\n
in practice.  \u201cWow, Russ, where did you get the power>\u201d \u201cWhen I snapped<\/div>\n
the ball my arm was way back\u2026lots of leverage sweeping forward and up.<\/div>\n
How did it feel?\u201d \u201cLike a block of cement in motion.”<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
 On my left was a new guy.  Big guy.  Super friendly guy who just<\/div>\n
loved the game.   His name is Edward Jackman,  ex student from Upper Canada<\/div>\n
College.  His family were great donors to various charities.  Well healed folk in<\/div>\n
other words.  I did not know this until I really got to know Ed.   We became <\/div>\n
good friends through many changes in our lives.  Still are. The son of a tire <\/div>\n
Bilder and sweatshop worker\u2026side by side with the son a leader in finance whose<\/div>\n
brother was destined to become Lt. Gov. of Ontario.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
One football game comes to mind.  We were playing against a very tough<\/div>\n
St. Michael\u2019s College team.   We were also tough so do not get the idea we<\/div>\n
were crybabies.  <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
On the line there is an expectation that both offensive and defensive lineman<\/div>\n
will launch themselves against each other.  Force meets force.  We are only<\/div>\n
about a yard (metre) apart so the crash of bodies is not fatal.  Rare injuries.<\/div>\n
Often good natured body against body.  Not a romance though.  <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Well on this particular day my opposing lineman did not charge.  He took a<\/div>\n
step back and waited for my charge whereupon he lifted his knee forcefully<\/div>\n
into my mouth.  Bloody bastard.  Back in the huddle I said to Ed Jackman,<\/div>\n
\u201cThat son  of a bitch opposite me is not charging.  Instead he is kneeing<\/div>\n
me in my mouth.  Turning my mouth into hamburger.\u201d  That\u2019s too many<\/div>\n
words.  There was No time for such<\/div>\n
a long comment.  \u201cBastard is kneeing me in my mouth.\u201d  There, that\u2019s<\/div>\n
better.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Ed Jackman, Marjorie and Alan Skeoch<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
One odd twist of fate occurred when Ed became a Dominican priest.   That allows<\/div>\n
me to kid him a lot about that game against St. Mike\u2019s so long ago.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Eddie\u2019s response was immediate.   “Step back when the play is going to<\/div>\n
the right.  I\u2019ll deal with him.\u201d  Remember we are the left side linemen\u2026ball<\/div>\n
carrier would be going to the right.  So the next chance I stepped back<\/div>\n
and Eddie gave the guy a good solid kick in the balls.  Message was<\/div>\n
received.  My mouth was spared.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
As a result Eddie and I became friends for life.  And he is now a Dominican<\/div>\n
priest.  I rib him often about that kick he let loose.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Would I have met Eddie had I not broken my little finger?  Possibly I suppose.<\/div>\n

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

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
FOOTBALL WAS NOT ALL VIOLENCE<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Yes, football is a violent sport.  Football players do get hurt in the games and sometimes their<\/div>\n
injuries are life changing.  But we also had one hell of a lot of fun.  And we met each other in a non academic<\/div>\n
forum.  No need for one upmanship posturing.  We socialized.  Some of us got in the atrocious habit<\/div>\n
of going to the King Cole Room in the ritzy Park Plaza hotel for a few draughts of beer.  That was after i gave up<\/div>\n
trying to stop the the  team from drinking.  I must have been a real prick in my temperance role.  Thankfully<\/div>\n
a female friend from Humberside broke that.  \u201cAlan, you need to take a drink\u2026join in\u2026you need to change.\u201d<\/div>\n
I have always taken criticism seriously.  Not offended.  Camilla was right.  So I joined the boys for draughts<\/div>\n
in the KCR and the Embassy and other watering holes.  Eric and I could not afford many draughts\u2026maybe two<\/div>\n
or three. the glasses at the time were small.   <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
We were really silly\u2026immature.  Lucky to be able to be that way.  Like the time we came out of<\/div>\n
the KCR and found Hugh folded neatly into the big Municipal garbage can on the corner of<\/div>\n
Bloor and University Avenues.   Today he would not fit in the slot\u2026but back then the tub was big<\/div>\n
enough to sleep in and there was no danger of a compacter crushing a sleeper.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
THE BOB APPLE BATTLE  (now just a fading memory if that)<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Violence can sometimes seem funny.  I know some readers  will take offence at this story.  Sorry<\/div>\n
about that.  At Victoria back then in 1961 and 1962 there was the annual Bob Apple Battle where<\/div>\n
freshman were expected to capture a Vic Beany that was nailed to the  top of a big pole.  Sophomores<\/div>\n
defended the pole throwing heaps of garbage\u2026apples, maybe, more likely softer fruit like tomatoes.<\/div>\n
Our sophomore leader was a bit on the pompous side.  Maybe he put down football playing as juvenile.<\/div>\n
Not sure why Russ and I disliked him.  Maybe no reason.  Maybe it was just the devil getting into our<\/div>\n
souls.  <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
To get ammunition for the Bob Apple Battle both sides gathered garbage. Messy stuff.  We decided\u2026maybe<\/div>\n
it was more my fault but Russ was a partner in the crime even if he denies it today\u2026no matter.  I decided <\/div>\n
to get slop from a restaurant on Yonge Street.  Slop?  The stuff skimmed off dirty plates or the excess  slime<\/div>\n
of food preparation\u2026really bad stuff.  So bad that it had to be carried in a pail.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
No one really knew us in the rough and tumble of the battle.  So we posed as freshman.  Then pinned <\/div>\n
down our target.  One doing the pinning, the other doing the pouring.  Isn\u2019t that about the worst behaviour<\/div>\n
imaginable.  Disgusting.  Somehow the slop sliding off our targets face drained away his pomposity.<\/div>\n
Or so we rationalized.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Now is it possible to get this email to the President of Victoria College, maybe he or she can explain<\/div>\n
to me why the Bob Apple Battle was cancelled.  There must be a good reason for the cancellation of<\/div>\n
such a mild initiation to university.  Surely it was not because the battle was silly.<\/div>\n
But I cannot understand why it was cancelled. (sarcasm)  Was it cancelled in 1962 because of our misbehaviour.  I hope not.<\/div>\n
How rude and insensitive can you get Skeoch?  I know. I know.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
At least one of the Victoria College professors, Prof Grant, came to watch the proceedings with<\/div>\n
interest.  Not sure about the rest of them.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
A few years later, around 1966 or 1967, the whole football extra curricular sport was also cancelled.<\/div>\n
Sad. Really Sad.  <\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
The grads of my generation were very very lucky.  Employers wanted us..  We had choices.  We were those<\/div>\n
lucky kids born in 1938, 1939, 1940\u2026luckiest generation of human beings ever born.  I am serious.  That<\/div>\n
comment is not just a figment of my imagination.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Our lives ran on parallel courses.  We married room mates.  Russ married Anne Hilliard.  I married<\/div>\n
Marjorie Hughes.   And we both\u2026all four of us I mean\u2026got into the baby production business as<\/div>\n
you will see below..<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

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

<\/div>\n
Enough said\u2026more than enough said\u2026way too much said.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
alan skeoch<\/div>\n
Sept. 2020<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

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

EPISODE 124   VIOLENCE   PART TWO   FOOTBALL AND MY LITTLE FINGER alan skeoch Sept. 2020 PART TWO The broken finger did not hurt that much.  It just got in the way \u2026 affected my typing.  Devastated my ability to take notes in class and to do homework.   All else was quite normal. […]<\/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-5913","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5913","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=5913"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5913\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5913"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5913"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5913"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}