xtiger
10-23-2006, 02:58 PM
1948, When I was Five
A Child is Kissed by Championship Mania
The era of Swing music had not yet died,
World War II was still fresh in the minds of American people,
and a coach named Chuck Mather was new in town.
I remember when I was five, I woke up one morning because I heard a distant explosion. Then I heard another. And a little while later there was yet another. Excited, I got out of bed, and I said to my mother, "What are those booming sounds?"
And my mother says, "Those are the rocket bombs going off downtown. It will happen all morning because it's McKinley Game Day. They are getting people excited for the big football game with Canton."
She then proceeded to tell me about how Massillon and Canton always played for the state championship, and how I was born in the greatest football town in America, and how the Massillon Tigers were the best football team in the nation. Mind you, my mom didn't know football worth a hoot. She thought the sport was too dangerous. But she knew what the blazes was going on with the Tigers!
A short while later that morning, I went outside to play. And there was this airplane high in the sky, and it was skywriting. At age five I couldn't read, so I asked the old woman across the street what it said. And she replied rather boisterously: "It says, 'Beat McKinley!" Then she thrust a fist skyward and cheered. I had never seen this normally quiet woman act that way before. Football must really be important.
Later, in the afternoon, there is suddenly more booming in the sky. It's coming from the distant stadium, and I am soon to learn that a bomb goes off when the game starts, and I learn that another bomb will go off every time Massillon scores a TD against McKinley. I also learn that Canton is the number one team this year. Massillon will be number one if they win.
Though I continue playing outside, I am aware that the game has now started. I notice there is a mysterious tension in the air. Things have gone dead silent around me. What the heck is going on here?
I suddenly realize that I am the only human being outside: There are no people. There are no cars. And this is definitely not normal. Where is everybody?
Later, I hear another bomb go off.
Suddenly, I make a connection -- when I heard that bomb go off, I simultaneously heard people in their houses cheering and making all kinds of weird sounds. And even though the stadium was on the far side of town, I could hear the distant roar of the crowd echo across the valley. And I could hear a band playing somewhere far away. Something big was going on. I could tell.
Later I go inside where my mommie and my grandma and several others have gathered; everybody in my family who is not at the stadium is now seated around the radio. They are listening to the football game. And these people, mostly my relatives, are tense, and they are worried and clenching their fists tightly because it looks like McKinley is going to score a touchdown. But mighty Massillon holds, the Bulldogs are stopped, and there is once again joy and great cheering and banging on things. I can clearly hear the old hunky woman next door screaming bloody murder as though she had just been stabbed. I like that old woman, she always gives me cookies to eat, and I am suddenly worried about her. They tell me that it's okay, the old hunky woman is just happy. I take their word for it. But I still go over to her house to see if she is okay. She is fine. And she rewards my concern with yet another cookie.
Later that day, when it's getting close to sundown, I am taken to downtown Massillon. The streets are a sea of cars with orange and black signs and steamers hanging from them, and all the cars are all blaring their horns, and people are shouting out the windows. And the sidewalks are filled with happy people who are hugging and dancing, as though celebrating the end of a great war. A great war that had been won by the good guys, like in the movies.
There are Massillon Tiger flags in front of every store. And for the first time, I am noticing this Obie cartoon character with his helmet askew, and he is carrying a football. I make the connection. This Obie the Tiger on the flags is the same cartoon tiger that's on the signs in the store windows. I also notice that some of the flags along the street have leaping Tigers. Neat. I conclude that all this is somehow connected to the Massillon Tiger football team. People must really like this football team. These football players are like gods to them.
Suddenly, I hear people getting more excited: there is a happy stir among them; people are clapping and jumping up and down. And though I can't see yet because everybody is taller than me, I can hear loud music approaching, with lotsa drums and tubas and trumpets and saxophones. The music is coming from Tiger Swing Band, and they are crisply marching through the streets with tubas roaring so loud it amazes me that people can make this much sound just by blowing through these things! And suddenly I spot the BIG OBIE -- holy cow, it's a real Tiger! -- and for an instant I am terrified! But everybody seems to trust and love this live tiger, and my fear quickly subsides.
This Tiger, the BIG OBIE, is running around on its hind legs like a it's a people-Tiger, and it's running back and forth in front of this peppy orange and black band that is playing this great fight song they call, "Tiger Rag." I think to myself, oh, goodie goodie, it's Halloween again! Or maybe it's Christmas again! Whatever it is, it sure is a lot of fun!
There are balloons and streamers and confetti everywhere, and I have never before seen so many people happy all at the same time. Their happiness makes me happy, and I don't even know what the heck is going on! Exuberance is contagious. Happy drunks suddenly come staggering out of the beer joints, and they are trying to sing some song called the "Mazlawn
Ama-mawtur," whatever that is. But they are friendly, and they give me some money, so I like them quite a bit.
And suddenly there is the loudest roar from people that this youngster had ever heard -- and there is this bus, and the Massillon football team has arrived, and I tell you that this was the most exciting amazing moment of my young life.
There they were, THE Massillon Tiger football players, and they were these big husky fellas. Some of them appeared to have black eyes. And some of them I think were crying. I had never seen men cry before. But they were smiling and crying at the same time, so I figured it was okay. And these football players were reaching out the windows and touching hands with the people in the streets. My mother lifts me up by the armpits, and WOW I got to touch their fingers! That was soooooo neat! I had been touched by a Massillon football god!
Then there are these tall pretty girls in short skirts that show up, and they are all dressed the same, wearing orange and black and white clothing. They are called cheerleaders. And they lead this cheer that I don't know, but I quickly learn it. It's called, "We're number one!" It was a heckuva good cheer. You get to say it over and over again. And everybody knew the cheer. Neat.
Best part about it, I got a happy kiss on the cheek from one of those pretty cheerleaders. This was truly a wonderful day.
Later that night, it is dark and I am in bed. And in the distance, I can still faintly hear the car horns blowing downtown. And there are parties in the neighborhood. And there are people playing swing music, tunes that are familiar because I have often heard them on the radio. There is much joy in Tigertown tonight. And I am all warm and cozy with happiness. What a wonderful town I must live in.
Finally, my excited little mind found sleep. But the next day, I would awaken. And I would never be the same. For I was forever more a Massillon Tiger.
Carl Eberly
http://home.gate.net/%7Ereberly0/Tigers/tigpage0.htm
A Child is Kissed by Championship Mania
The era of Swing music had not yet died,
World War II was still fresh in the minds of American people,
and a coach named Chuck Mather was new in town.
I remember when I was five, I woke up one morning because I heard a distant explosion. Then I heard another. And a little while later there was yet another. Excited, I got out of bed, and I said to my mother, "What are those booming sounds?"
And my mother says, "Those are the rocket bombs going off downtown. It will happen all morning because it's McKinley Game Day. They are getting people excited for the big football game with Canton."
She then proceeded to tell me about how Massillon and Canton always played for the state championship, and how I was born in the greatest football town in America, and how the Massillon Tigers were the best football team in the nation. Mind you, my mom didn't know football worth a hoot. She thought the sport was too dangerous. But she knew what the blazes was going on with the Tigers!
A short while later that morning, I went outside to play. And there was this airplane high in the sky, and it was skywriting. At age five I couldn't read, so I asked the old woman across the street what it said. And she replied rather boisterously: "It says, 'Beat McKinley!" Then she thrust a fist skyward and cheered. I had never seen this normally quiet woman act that way before. Football must really be important.
Later, in the afternoon, there is suddenly more booming in the sky. It's coming from the distant stadium, and I am soon to learn that a bomb goes off when the game starts, and I learn that another bomb will go off every time Massillon scores a TD against McKinley. I also learn that Canton is the number one team this year. Massillon will be number one if they win.
Though I continue playing outside, I am aware that the game has now started. I notice there is a mysterious tension in the air. Things have gone dead silent around me. What the heck is going on here?
I suddenly realize that I am the only human being outside: There are no people. There are no cars. And this is definitely not normal. Where is everybody?
Later, I hear another bomb go off.
Suddenly, I make a connection -- when I heard that bomb go off, I simultaneously heard people in their houses cheering and making all kinds of weird sounds. And even though the stadium was on the far side of town, I could hear the distant roar of the crowd echo across the valley. And I could hear a band playing somewhere far away. Something big was going on. I could tell.
Later I go inside where my mommie and my grandma and several others have gathered; everybody in my family who is not at the stadium is now seated around the radio. They are listening to the football game. And these people, mostly my relatives, are tense, and they are worried and clenching their fists tightly because it looks like McKinley is going to score a touchdown. But mighty Massillon holds, the Bulldogs are stopped, and there is once again joy and great cheering and banging on things. I can clearly hear the old hunky woman next door screaming bloody murder as though she had just been stabbed. I like that old woman, she always gives me cookies to eat, and I am suddenly worried about her. They tell me that it's okay, the old hunky woman is just happy. I take their word for it. But I still go over to her house to see if she is okay. She is fine. And she rewards my concern with yet another cookie.
Later that day, when it's getting close to sundown, I am taken to downtown Massillon. The streets are a sea of cars with orange and black signs and steamers hanging from them, and all the cars are all blaring their horns, and people are shouting out the windows. And the sidewalks are filled with happy people who are hugging and dancing, as though celebrating the end of a great war. A great war that had been won by the good guys, like in the movies.
There are Massillon Tiger flags in front of every store. And for the first time, I am noticing this Obie cartoon character with his helmet askew, and he is carrying a football. I make the connection. This Obie the Tiger on the flags is the same cartoon tiger that's on the signs in the store windows. I also notice that some of the flags along the street have leaping Tigers. Neat. I conclude that all this is somehow connected to the Massillon Tiger football team. People must really like this football team. These football players are like gods to them.
Suddenly, I hear people getting more excited: there is a happy stir among them; people are clapping and jumping up and down. And though I can't see yet because everybody is taller than me, I can hear loud music approaching, with lotsa drums and tubas and trumpets and saxophones. The music is coming from Tiger Swing Band, and they are crisply marching through the streets with tubas roaring so loud it amazes me that people can make this much sound just by blowing through these things! And suddenly I spot the BIG OBIE -- holy cow, it's a real Tiger! -- and for an instant I am terrified! But everybody seems to trust and love this live tiger, and my fear quickly subsides.
This Tiger, the BIG OBIE, is running around on its hind legs like a it's a people-Tiger, and it's running back and forth in front of this peppy orange and black band that is playing this great fight song they call, "Tiger Rag." I think to myself, oh, goodie goodie, it's Halloween again! Or maybe it's Christmas again! Whatever it is, it sure is a lot of fun!
There are balloons and streamers and confetti everywhere, and I have never before seen so many people happy all at the same time. Their happiness makes me happy, and I don't even know what the heck is going on! Exuberance is contagious. Happy drunks suddenly come staggering out of the beer joints, and they are trying to sing some song called the "Mazlawn
Ama-mawtur," whatever that is. But they are friendly, and they give me some money, so I like them quite a bit.
And suddenly there is the loudest roar from people that this youngster had ever heard -- and there is this bus, and the Massillon football team has arrived, and I tell you that this was the most exciting amazing moment of my young life.
There they were, THE Massillon Tiger football players, and they were these big husky fellas. Some of them appeared to have black eyes. And some of them I think were crying. I had never seen men cry before. But they were smiling and crying at the same time, so I figured it was okay. And these football players were reaching out the windows and touching hands with the people in the streets. My mother lifts me up by the armpits, and WOW I got to touch their fingers! That was soooooo neat! I had been touched by a Massillon football god!
Then there are these tall pretty girls in short skirts that show up, and they are all dressed the same, wearing orange and black and white clothing. They are called cheerleaders. And they lead this cheer that I don't know, but I quickly learn it. It's called, "We're number one!" It was a heckuva good cheer. You get to say it over and over again. And everybody knew the cheer. Neat.
Best part about it, I got a happy kiss on the cheek from one of those pretty cheerleaders. This was truly a wonderful day.
Later that night, it is dark and I am in bed. And in the distance, I can still faintly hear the car horns blowing downtown. And there are parties in the neighborhood. And there are people playing swing music, tunes that are familiar because I have often heard them on the radio. There is much joy in Tigertown tonight. And I am all warm and cozy with happiness. What a wonderful town I must live in.
Finally, my excited little mind found sleep. But the next day, I would awaken. And I would never be the same. For I was forever more a Massillon Tiger.
Carl Eberly
http://home.gate.net/%7Ereberly0/Tigers/tigpage0.htm