“Get the fuck off our field” shouts Heinze DeGiampaolo from the front
of a row of fifth grade boys marching onto the field. He’s the pudgy red-haired leader of a pack of
Italian kids from the
I
had shied away from tackle football at Codrington
Park until fourth grade, although I had sometimes hid in a hemlock hedge beside
the field and watched the pickup games.
The older kids looked so big and rough that I stayed in that haven of pine
scent and blue-green berries. But in fourth
grade Joe D emerges as my baseball card collecting friend and classroom
rival. We race to be the first to answer
questions and are usually opposing quarterbacks on the school playground. When he says “Let’s meet down the Park after
school” I take it as a challenge so we fourth graders play every day once
“But we were here first”
reasons Joe D as our classmate Richie Jeskulski, late
for the fourth grade game, walks up behind the fifth graders.
“I said get the fuck off”
repeats Heinze.
“Yeah, you little kids gotta move over to the baseball field” chimes in Jimmy Randazzo.
“Let’s keep playin, maybe they’ll leave” whispers Kenny Sella.
Heinze heaves a tight spiral which we all turn to watch whiz
past Kenny’s head. A choking sound spins
us back toward the fifth graders where Jimmy Randazzo’s
feet are dangling six inches off the ground.
His face goes from red to white to blue as Jeskulksi’s
forearm tightens around the neck.
“OK, OK, it’s us against you
for the field” concedes Heinze.
My
first play is a pitchout to Jeskulski who’s nailed in
the backfield. The next two plays are
incomplete passes as I have to scramble and unload the ball. Jimmy Randazzo
takes the helm for the fifth graders and picks apart our man-to-man defense with
his left handed down-and-outs. Then Heinze catches a screen and brushes off a diving tackle
before rumbling in for the first score. They’re
up three to none when we huddle after a kickoff.
“They’re walking all over us”
groans Kenny Sella.
“C’mon you pussies, help me make some tackles” shouts Jeskulski.
“Bates, you move to
receiver, Richie to center, Kenny to fullback so I can get you guys the ball”
directs Joe D.
Two
crows alight on the big sycamore in the endzone as
Joe D takes the snap from Jeskulski who knocks down the
rusher and gets open for a ten yard pass.
Next Kenny Sella takes a handoff up the middle
and drags Heinze ten yards before being knocked down. Then Joe D hits me streaking across the field
on a post route for our first touchdown. On the kickoff return Jeskulski
slams down Jimmy Randazzo who coughs up the ball and
on our first play Kenny Sella lumbers up the middle
carrying three fifth graders in for our second score.
Soon
the game is tied at four touchdowns when the Calco whistle
blows. The fifth graders slink off for
dinner but we dance around under the sycamore which is now full of crows
staging for their dusk flight up to First Watchung
Mountain.
“We fuckin
did it” shouts Richie Jeskulski.
“Way to go Sellabeef” I add.
“It’s our field now” says
Joe D, staking our after school claim to the
And it is for the rest of
that magical fall.