Tuesday, January 10, 2006
In lieu of a normal mailbag, we will take today to honor Jack Snow with your thoughts and memories of No. 84. We will continue to take these memories throughout the day so keep sending them in. So far, the outpouring of support and love for Mr. Snow has been tremendous. Thanks to everyone who sent a thought or memory no matter how long or short.
Coleman Tokei, Vancouver, BC: I was in ninth grade at Port Colborne High School in 1967 when I fell in love with the horns. The Rams had a QB with the neatest name.....Roman Gabriel, who threw long bombs to this WR "who had never been caught from behind".....Jack Snow. Guess who I was every time we played touch football, eh?
By 12th grade we were all playing High School Football, driving cars and dating girls......BUT we we were still huge NFL fans. Early that year, the 1970 season, Jimmy Calla, our big Italian DT told me he thought he knew where we could get a couple of tickets for the Bills-Rams game (our town was only 20 minutes across the Niagara River from Buffalo), but we'd have to pay "slightly over face value." I was like........"C'mon Jimmy, like let's find these tickets..........like yesterday!!!!!!"
I borrow my mom's 1966 Pontiac Laurentian and Jimmy directs me to this Pool Hall.........(in a bad part of town).
It's 9 AM on a beautiful sunny September Saturday morning. I'm in my normal knock-around weekend wear......... blue jeans, T-shirt and adidas............Jimmy is wearing a sports jacket, dress slacks, and an open neck dark shirt.........plus his hair is combed and he's cleaning the smudges off his perpetually smeared dark rimmed glasses as we park my mom's car behind an old Buick WITH NO WHEELS!!!!
Jimmy says, "When we go in, let me do the talking. I've got the money and you and I can settle up later." Jimmy Calla was a HUGE guy, but very soft spoken. We were in the same Math class a couple of years ago, and we knew each other from football, but the way he took charge right before we went into the Pool Hall kinda floored me. Anyway, we go from bright sunlight into this half darkened, smoke filled room full of guys who all seem to have scars, missing teeth or bandages on their faces. There must be twenty or so guys in the pool hall and when we open the door and walk in.........it's one of those moments like in the movies where everybody stops talking and looks up to see who's coming in.
Suddenly I feel like I'm wearing a pair of lead boots like those old deepsea divers used to ...........and I am moving about their same speed too.......also, I keep getting mental images of an AztecBronze Pontiac Laurentian with no wheels, engulfed in flames. I just look around the room looking for a familiar (yeah, right ) or friendly face.........no luck. Finally, after about ten seconds (which seemed like a lifetime), Jimmy spots...
-01-10-2006, 02:39 PM
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