Michael,

Yep.  We got an all north east super duper bowl.  Your story of Yakki stadium reminds me of my first Madison Square Garden pro hockey game.  Hearing the roar of the crowd, then all the lights, a coliseum!  Gump Worsly in the nets against Eddie Giackomin.  Two of the greatest goalies, no masks, no helmets.  Gump made a save with his face against, I think, Bobbie Hull, late in the second period, and returned to play in the third.  Talk about Rome, blood all over the ice.  I think they stitched him up with boot laces.

You can’t see the game in Argentina?  No satellite dish under a tin roof somewhere?

Best,

Leland

 

 

My first professional football game I ever attended was
  in New York; I was 7 
. I was with my dad and my uncles and all of their white and blue  collar  male friends who my brother and I   would call  "uncle" because thats the way it was;
it was never Mr. Jones ; it was always uncle Bob  or Uncle art.
We went to games at Yankee stadium way up in the Bronx; which we went to by subway after parking the car in mid town Manhattan.
Yankee stadium  to this 7 yr. old was the pantheon of the Gods; grotty  dirty and filled with the stink of hot dog and  cigar smoke and the swill of cheap beer
but it was the house that Ruth built;  and its  pitch   was the same hallowed earth my baseball gods played on ; Stengle  Ford, Mantle, Maris,Berra,) which to me was made of  the stuff dreams were  made of
Some times the baseball would still be going on and they would share the field every other week other times we would go to the polo grounds (but the uncles didn't like that)
On cold Sunday afternoons we would pile into the coveted Giant seating sections  filled as if by magic with my neighborhood  uncles and cheer the Giants to victory.
This little section of Yankee stadium was everybody that I knew.
Some were the fathers of my best school chums
Once I remember Nixon coming over and shaking hands;
and Marylyn Monroe with Norman Mailer  passing by;
there were  all sorts of characters; the beer guy the hot dog vender 
but what I liked was all the uncles; commuting uncles who were week end warriors   gladiators trying to blow off a little steam  who on Sunday afternoons would drink a little beer and become kids again roaring from their stadium coats and camel hair jackets  talking world War two stories, listening to the game on transmitters
and roaring  the Giants  to victory as if there was no tomorrow
.
Charlie Connerly   (52-60)was the quarter back then ;
He was a God so was Alex Webster and so many others
they were all Gods to this 7 year old   
and New York was Rome if not  the glittering paradise  of American art and  culture;

Here was the  Village, the upper east side, MOMA, and central park,
the museums of natural history, the planetarium, Jackie gleason and Ed Sullivan , Steve Allen;Sinatra,the mob and the  New York times. All side by side
  all roaring from these hallowed seats in the pantheon of the Gods 
. In 1958 The Giants were playing Baltimore and Johnny Unitas was  the quarterback it was in the snow; and it was the last game of the season  when Baltimore made a comeback  in overtime and won ... as kids. we didn't really care as it was such a great game; and we had yelled ourselves hoarse as it was all the excitement we could bear.
To night; I roared again from my coveted seat in the living room;   
I roared again as if I was 7 ..
. I roared with pleasure at the Giants comeback
and  the seesaw battle of both teams fortunes 

I watched  the Giants comeback and win
......WIN in  4 dig of bitter cold temperatures
WIN ... when they were expected NOT to WIN
WIN in bitter cold Greenbay 
by a field goal kicker who seemed .... could never  WIN
but WIN he did

Once again  I rose from my seat ;(my mythical stadium chair )
and while  scarring the cat and awakening  the house hold
  did a victory lap around the room yelling hoarsely with all those uncles
now long gone ;cheering once again
in the pantheon of the Gods.  PY ... Go Giants.

Ps  Sadly I will be in Argentina for superbowl;
hopefully maybe; get it on short wave  or at the cantina that is two hours away whose radio whirrs ... but try I must.






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