The Turkey Bowl

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I will be making three stops on Nick’s Chicago Family Tour. Back in my late teens and early twenties, my friends and I would play football every year. It was something of a tradition. I realize now I am far too old and out of shape to play tackle football (which is stupidly what we would play without any padding on what so ever.) Still, every year my Uncle John, (who is approaching 60) and I play a short game of catch before eating. I have some interesting memories from those classic Turkey Bowls of yesteryear. Here are just a few.

The Shit Bowl – When we first moved into our house in Willow Springs there was this vacant empty lot across the street from our house. Most of the neighborhood used this as a place to walk their dogs. The dogs would use the vast grassy area as their personal toilets pissing and shitting wherever they saw fit. For some reason my friends and I decided that this would me a great place to play a tackle football game on Thanksgiving morning.

We were dodging Fido bombs all over the place as we tried to concentrate on catching and defending passes. The main details about the game itself that I remember were that of burning Mike Doyle on a consistent basis. Our friend Mike Doyle was a bit of a braggart when it came to sports. He thought he was the best at everything. So, I never felt guilt about making him eat shit. He was on the opposite team that year. (Every year was the fight of who was going to have Doyle on their team as no one wanted him as it usually meant a loss.) Dean Bestwina, was on my team and was quarterbacking. I told him, “Anytime, you see Doyle covering me one on one, I am going deep. I can burn him every time,” which is exactly what I did. I can’t remember the final score but it wasn’t pretty.

The Snow Bowl – One year, we were all set to play at the park by St. Fabian’s. The night before Thanksgiving it snowed. The next day it was cold as all hell and the ground was frozen solid and covered in white powder. Yet, being young and stupid we soldiered on and played anyway.

It was so cold out you could not throw the ball or catch it. It was a defensive struggle which is rare in a pickup football game. After we had played for awhile we were all cold and wet (and not in a good way.) A total of one touchdown had been scored and it was by the team I was not on. As we could no longer take it, a decision was made. Our team had the ball. If we did not score the game would be over. So, Mike Connors (Chuck to his friends) our fearless leader at QB started marching us down the field with short dink and dunk passes. At this point we were so cold and miserable we just sucked it up and started playing. I could not feel my hands or feet. I was sure I had incurred frostbite, but hey this was a game for bragging rights for a year. I was going to tough it out.

We had the momentum and were driving for the tying score. I go out for a pass and the guy covering me falls down in the snow. I am wide open. Chuck hits me with a pass and I see nothing by daylight ahead of me. I am sure I am going to score a TD, to tie the game. I got closer to the end zone when out of nowhere my friend Chris came from my blindside and punched the ball out of my frozen hands and forced a fumble. He fell on it and the game was over. I had to live a year with that shame of having lost the game.

The Shoot-Out Bowl – Another year we played in Bedford Park behind our friend Zar’s house. It was unseasonably warm out that year. (Proving November’s weather in Chicago can be quite fickle.) That year no one could stop anyone. I also played the game of my life. I was playing QB, which is something I rarely did. I could do no wrong. (I admit I was picking on Doyle for most of the game.) It was back and forth, as both teams scored at will. Eventually, my team took a lead and the other team tied it on what was going to be the last possession. So, we decided to play sudden death, next score wins. I got sacked on third down so it was pretty much Hail Marry time. I dropped back and threw a rainbow of a pass as far as I could. Thankfully, Scott Woodrum (who was on my team) ran down and caught the pass and my team won. It goes down as my top moment of any Turkey Bowl I played in.

The ER Bowl – The last Turkey Bowl I played in was the ER bowl. I can’t remember exactly how old I was but, I remember it was at the park by St. Fabian’s again. People were dropping like flies. I remember Chuck who had bad knees to being with, injuring his knee early on. Someone else threw out their shoulder. I was doing okay, until I decided to try to run a kickoff back. I caught the ball and started running. I saw a tackler in front of me so, I tried to make a juke move to avoid the tackle and in the process sprained my arch. I wound up spending Thanksgiving morning on crutches as I could not put any weight on my foot. At that point the realization came to me that, maybe I was getting to old to be playing tackle football.

Still, on Thanksgiving morning I still get a little nostalgic and a small (very small) part of me misses the ritual. Running around, improperly dressed for the conditions, playing a homo-erotic game can be quite a good way to start your holiday.