I’ll Fumble 4 Ya

Illinois 1968




    • Fannie is quick on the Brit Pop trigger! It is possible that he caught it. He certainly seems to be giving 100%. Does it bother you when people say 110%? That’s not even a thing. Unless it’s like when I got 110 on my spelling tests because of extra credit. Oh, that’s a good rap name. Extra Credit. Lord, I’m rambling.


      • There was a time I could not look at another pineapple but in the past few years they have come out with a new variety – often called Maui Gold or such – that are incredibly tasty so I’m back to eating them. But over here we do not think that the simple addition of pineapple makes something “Hawaiian” (e.g., pizza).

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      • Well, of course not! You have to add Canadian bacon. Oh, that sounds even stranger. Well, around here, you throw a jalapeno on something and it’s Texan. Lots of jalapeno pepperoni at the pizza buffets.


  1. I don’t think there was a football in the air, Kerbey and Kerbey-ites. I envision a photographer’s assistant standing to the side holding a grubby pigskin aloft saying at his boss’ cue, over and over again as the team’s receivers stood in a line awaiting their turn, “Look at the ball.” Jump toward the camera. Snap. Magical moment made. Next. In 1968 I was an 11-year-old playing Little League baseball and Church League basketball, just shy of these type of photo moments. By the time I reached junior high school in my huge Long Island school district, I always heard my name called among the final cuts. Dagnabbit.

    Here’s a question for you. Who besides me thinks this lad experienced either bruised elbows or tasted blood upon a big crash landing?

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