Saturday, November 16, 2013

Acorn Fights, Football, and Autumn


 

We had acorns, I mean we had acorns, in Takoma Park, this was before Montgomery College in Montgomery County Maryland was build along the row of Takoma Ave, before then it was big houses, for a bridge used to lay where the college now stands, as a direct access to Washington D.C., but between the time of the bridge and Montgomery college all along Takoma Ave lay great Oak trees, the kind that cover the sky in canopy of eighty to over a hundred feet with their hundreds of great bases stretching into massive black branches crossing the sky, old branches reaching in every direction, up them as everywhere in Takoma Park lay thousands of acorns falling everywhere, forget the squirrel population of the next year; lets find us and boys preparing for the daily acorn fights, Philip, and I figured on using our news paper bags from carrying the Washington Star an evening paper in the late 70’s in Washington D.C. area soon to be over taken by the Washington Post making D.C. a one paper town, which meant a lot back then. Everybody still read the papers on their porches, evening chair, it was different, getting news. We had these things brimming with acorns, the streets and ground were already covered, where acorns where scooped with snow shovels and trash cans to clear them, as well being smashed into asphalt like a carpet. Philip and I roughed it but some boys would come with pads on the arms and hats covering there heads, the game, well the on going war with the boys from down the street was on full tilt, and we roamed the neighborhood as well running our turf. We had the pick of the biggest fattest acorns from just the right trees for as boys we knew all our trees in the neighborhood it was our solemn duty, a right of passage of being an accomplished boy, using the best of what lay at hand. The acorns were as big as an inch or more hard and heavy with meat, just right for smacking some unfortunate acorn battler in a good fight and strong enough to leave a welt. You see boys, lots of acorns, like mad, crazy amount of acorns, just plain too many at once, acorns equaled acorn battles among all the boys daring to be out. That was it pretty much for a week, just boys and acorn battles every where. We had been using piles of acorns as our defense like and sneak attack but had realized our acorns could be taken by over whelming forces, with us skirting from our place of attack we needed to be mobile, not with buckets like Philip suggested or with my Hong Kong Phooey lunch box and Philip’s, old Roy Rogers Box cause you ran out to soon cause and they kept falling out besides mom saying , “What are you doing with your lunch box?”  we created secret piles of acorns all over the defensive zones, and carried our mail bags with us making us mobile with ammo aplenty we could reach in a running fight. Our home turf being set the best and final defensive line the Ryan’s home. It lay at the top Jacquie Park, and held the high ground for around it was a row of bushes and a small hill going up. We were already good sneakers in broad daylight are small frames in easy to hide as we moved forward towards our prey. We leaped out sending zingers. I mean some times a fellow took one no the arm or leg, back a stomach was a shot but the real welters were right in the forehead of the poor fellow, they would be in injured status in retreat for a while to recuperate, but soon to re-join we had a safe zone like a penalty box in hockey. I give the metaphor for it really applies, for the war would still be on with whooping and shouting full of laughs and “Oos” and, “Got you” or a taunt shouted. Boyz in a kind of wound up wild abandon, living the fever of a new game testing skill, our fortitude as mini soldiers, we were having so much fun, hot sweaty, running need a drink from the old cement water fountain, banging into each other rolling around laughing jumping and testing and laughing, and ever of course attacking with intensity, which Philip would have a special face for attacking. Philips face in such a manor of saying and doing was such a complete change from his waving arms, hands, and jolly self, he put on the “Straight Face” to prepare for warrior mode. This face of sternness upon his face littered with freckles and his constant good countenance of nature was like a kitten looking tuff, “Totally un-believable!” as he would exclaim at only the most extraordinary events. Philip was so calm mannered, and a goof, so this face of his would make me crack up. I couldn’t hold it back, and it would come bubbling out. Philip would be off on a charge expecting me to be with him, but if I caught that face of his. I would stop dead in my tracks cracking up. He would still be charging with that face getting mad at me and be yelling at me “What are you doing?” which he was often asking me, and “Stop laughing.” The face would lose the match for us as our attackers, usually Brian and Mike would just move in and start peppering Philip with acorns, and I’m watch as acorns are bouncing onto the ground after they left their mark, Philip covering his head and the mad look at me remained on his face, cause Philip never got mad, not really. Well I saw it twice once with the atomic wedgie and the other later, for now I’m just watching him in retreat and cracking up. I never got close enough for them to get a bead on me, I was always quick, even while laughing I kind of laughed more cause they would be mad at me for being so quick, and I would easily dodge their throws, and these were my bullies of type so, I had to be careful. This of course lead to the peppering of Philip and me laughing more. “Bing” Bonk” “Dink’ “Donk-ong” a ricochet that hits mark, from front as your running they let loose on him. I was no use sometimes. Philip would get so fake mad, and be yelling at me, and then come over and quietly plan the next melee with me. We were soldiers.  

“I had to get the face Philip said.” I guess his dad used it on him, face and it worked, just the once or twice he spoke directly to me fine, that’s all he did was speak to me, and I froze, stuck by his voice grounded to the spot. I mean in a quick minuet with the whole “Yes sir” included. Mr. Ryan was a big man, I mean a big man, too a little kid for he was over 6 feet tall and had wide shoulders and just plain girth to him, not a fatty girth but one made from being a big man. He spoke very little to the children individually; there were twelve of them from his first wife and she raised them all. I think Philip most of all. Mr. Ryan was all I knew and was told the rules of the house when I was young because I was baby sat their. That’s when Philip and I would sneak into the pantry and eat cool aid by pouring into our mouths, it was the sugary kind, and he taught me at five about bread butter and sugar as we snuck some off the dinning room table, long set table set with a long table cloth, is held them all, or most of them, I was the smallest, always in the Ryan’s house, except when I stayed there on baby sitting then I was treated like Philip minus the piano lessons the only way would really get away with what we all were doing was not letting the parent know. It’s funny how much in life we just don’t want mom or dad to know about.

Now we older full fledged get dirty playing foot ball with just five Aaron would always be a quarter back. I was never allowed to play quarter back, when he was around. He said, “There are no black quarter backs.” And took the job. Philip would always say that was silly but Mike and Brain would chime in and he would be quarter back me and Philip and I on one side and Mike and Brain on the other. Philip was the only one I wanted to play with cause I knew he treat me fare, so that’s were it wound us boys playing football with a little K2 that was the best, running up and down the field played a lot of pitch backs cause two or three kids can run all over the place, and if one of us was falling we would do our best to pitch it. We would use our jacket and shirts on hot days, no sticks. “You can fall on them” and “No trees” as boundaries cause once we did to be able to play in dry part of the field and Philip, had caught the ball then one two steps, the tree. It was bad, he hit full on because he had already turned to run, poor Philip, was quick but didn’t turn well, or stop quick, and his body just wrapped around the tree, and the ball spit out, then in slow motion he fell. He got up bloody and well kid knows where home is when he is hurt bad, and he just struggled to his feet and we kinda walked him across the street. Boys ain’t good at that game was over. We boys played football on that field everyday, getting home sweaty, dirty, hungry, and played out. Most of the time Philip and I lost. I see Aaron, Brain, and Mike had it figured that was. They was taught that, so it was, Aaron would play better for their side. Once we had a whole bunch of kids playing one year from around the neighborhood, about eight to ten of us, with our picked quarter back. Most these kids were older than me so I was still bottom man on list, until with a fair shot. I got a fair shot, I could run and catch pretty good, and was hard to tackle, even at nine. It was hard for me to play against Philip the face and the running with his head bobbing would just make me crack up. I was faster than him, but his head bobbing along with the way he ran all wacko like would leave me cracking up. I guess if I had a best friend as a little boy, it was Philip.

We were loaded and sure our new tactics would win the day. We skirted trees, hedges, and parked cars making our way down Takoma across where stands now the Montgomery Community College, but we were across the street, sneaking until we saw them coming right up the middle of the road, just as plain as could be for they had made mobile carts with trash cans full of acorns and a shield the hide behind and mobile made them far more effective. Philip started up the front throwing them in handfuls in grenade style straight at them and then I sent zingers side ways, fast and hard coming from the side and running as I threw acorns across their flank. We used backwards quickly for we were taking hits they had got to duck most of what we threw behind their carts then race forward attacking, we quickly went to higher ground putting the cart after taking a full retreat which were called often, that’s how we did it with war cries, or laughing as someone gets a good one when they’re running which was me laughing at Philip, cause when it came to retreat, as fast as I came I went and would pass Philip their main target at the moment for had out distanced them on speed and my zingers. You see you got to throw side ways first as a boy to learn to throw and it take a long time cause most boys throw like girls when they are kids until they start throwing sideways, and if you was real good zingers can hurt from a long way, further than any over hand throw. We beat tail up the road with both boys right behind us until we took a left over the hedge and up the hill taking the higher ground at the Ryan’s house pelting and using the high ground we waited for the enviable call on Takoma avenue “Car!” someone yelled and the boys had to clear the street or turn down Albany. That is where we wanted them. They had as much ammo as we did but our higher ground took the sting out of their shot while we were finally landing a few above the shield, no official wounds, or route, until they decided to try to take the park in retreat. The park in one spot had the real fat acorns like a supper ball with a deep think core and hard shell, it was our best ammo. We charged across the hill for really we were undefeatable in our own park, and we could move much faster with skill moving within and out of all the equipment, we had mastered that long ago. I we real young then, I swung on my belly pushing with my little feet just to swing up in the air after a parent would not push me any longer. A long time since Philip and I met at five, gee a whole buch of years. We met at the swings. There is a definite mass to swing weight ratio going on here, and finally the boy using the stand method of kneeling and pumping your legs to get the swing going real fast, as a kid it was the only way we could get the swings going. Standing holding the chains and get a swing and pump the next at the g force interval of the swing kick in. Philip’s mom would be watching all the time and when acorns started bouncing on the long porch with a swing at the end, she would come out the door. “Philip.” As decree as in all boyhood a parent in any form was really not down with what we as kids did so we stopped and waited, and we all could get in trouble as well but the first motivation rules the second. Our little mini war would rage for a few more days, until the rains came. The acorns soon became a city issue causing unsafe roads, drains stopped, and they had to send crews to unload the roads with big huge vacuum hoses for the leaves and a pickup for the acorns first. Most would be involved and the whole street got involved, the community. It was a big deal for all kids cause we loved it we these big burly black men would come in groups, and then in all the noise and rush the acorns where gone, Autumn moved on. The acorns never fell like that again, well not for a long time.
THOR    

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