[11/24/05]

Boy, do I miss the Turkey Bowl.

It had to be the best holiday tradition when I was growing up in New York. We would gather all the neighborhood kids, trek through the cold air and often through snow to Depew Park to play a football game with a few has-beens and a whole lot of never-weres.

We carved a field through the blanket of snow, when necessary, and set boundaries and the standard rules: No biting, no scratching, no kicking below the waist and no eye gouging. Everything else was OK.

Invariably, one of us would end up with a serious injury, and the older we got, the worse we hurt.

As the years passed and we moved on to college, the Turkey Bowl became a New Year’s Day bowl, but the injuries remained.

Few of the original neighborhood kids still reside in Peekskill, and our annual tradition has come to an official end. Well, almost.

Mom is visiting this week and one of her requests for entertainment was for me to buy a Nerf football so we could play a two-hand touch game in my front yard on Cherry Street.

The field dimensions measure 30 feet wide by about 30 yards long. The West end zone boundary is Cherry Street, which automatically makes a diving touchdown stab out of the question. The East end zone is the front porch, another obstacle not worthy of the six points.

I called my brother Dan to let him know of the first Cherry Street Football Classic.

&#8220Is this Mom’s idea?” he asked. &#8220Doesn’t she know she can’t even drive 50 miles without her back giving out?”

&#8220Hey, she wants to play ball,” I said.

Dan had recently torn his ACL playing raquetball. Mom’s back is iffy, and each day when I wake up, some bone somewhere makes a new cracking sound. I have so many asthma medicines, I need to keep a how-to list in my bathroom.

Our Cherry Street Classic will surely be reduced to a short game of catch – we’re too old to throw long passes for fear of a torn rotator cuff.

Unlike the Turkey Bowl, which had a nice multi-year run without any media exposure or corporate sponsors, the Cherry Street Classic will surely go down in flames.

I put out feelers to see about selling tickets with little response. It will stay a dream, I imagine, like memories of the Turkey Bowl.

For all of you planning on a Turkey Bowl afternoon of your own, please remember that you are not 18 anymore and not only do injuries hurt more, they last longer.

Be safe. Sit at home and watch football on TV, stuff your face with turkey and reflect on the days of your youth. All the while, running your fingers through your ever-graying hair.

And if you need a laugh, stop by Cherry Street Stadium. The laughs will be fulfilling.