I never went. Not once. I really wasn’t a football fan, not really. I watched the CFL sporadically, more often later than then, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to go. It looked like fun, taking a road trip with a bunch of guys I knew. I thought it might open up my social circle, make me more friends, and get me out of my weekly rut. I just didn’t have the holidays to spare in those days. It took years to accrue four weeks holidays at Kidd. It still does for P&M (Production and Maintenance). I’m not certain when they began to go. I became aware of them later on, and by that time I’d begun investing in a two-week international adventure and a Stratford road trip, usually with a stop in Toronto to watch the Jays.
I’d mentioned that I only had one week’s holidays my first year at Kidd. I had two weeks in my second and third years, three weeks in my fourth and fifth. It wasn’t until 1994 that I finally had four weeks, and that was the year I really began to travel. Prior to that, I was rather limited to what I would, could, do.
I really couldn’t tell you what I did with my holidays in those early years of employment. Not much. Garry was still in town, doing his accounting placement at Ross Pope, deciding he didn’t actually want to be an accountant. Henri was in town, working for the city, then Aquarius Mines. Neil was in town holidays, summers, and for a time after dropping out of university. I spent time hanging out with them. I spent time trying to convince my friends to go somewhere with me, something they never did for a number of reasons. Long story short, I didn’t do much. I hung out. I spent weekends at Casey’s and Dirty Dave’s, and then Mendez’.
Because of that, I had few markers to chart my progression through those melancholy years. They got all mixed up and jumbled together in my mind, taking some thought after all these years to disentangle. Further research resolved some of these, requiring corrections to my timeline. That’s nothing new. If you recall, I’ve had to do this before. You wouldn’t have known had I carried on, but I would, and I’d have felt bad about it, so here’s what I did do to set things straight:
1989: I began work
After that, I began hearing about the Buffalo trip.
I watched Mike Reid post a sheet to the bar. When I asked him about it, he told me that he and Brian were organizing an autumn football trip. The fee was included. Not being much of an NFL fan, and not having any holidays left for the year, I put it out of my mind.
It was only after they returned and I heard their stories that I wished that I’d gone. It sounded like fun. Mike and Brian had gone, obviously, their having organized it. Dave Payne and Pete Cassidy, too. Peter Vernick, among others. But in some ways, I was also glad I hadn’t. The drinking began as they climbed into the bus, continuing until they stepped back off in Timmins. I don’t think they actually remembered the game. I’m certain they didn’t. They’d drank way too much to remember anything. What they did remember was the comradery. I was jealous of that.
Their tickets were crap those first years, usually nose-bleeds in line with the visitors’ end zone. They’d begun to plan too late for good ones. But as the trip became an annual event, a time-honoured tradition, the week was set aside by all as a given, they booked earlier and gained better and better tickets. They added Leafs games later, too. It was an event, not to be missed by those dedicated attendees.
So, one year I watched the game they were set to see. Bills and the 49ers. Being the bookish sort, I grabbed a book and a pot of tea and settled in front of the set.
They returned with stories of how great the game was. The Greatest Ever, in fact. I begged to differ.
“How drunk were you?” I asked.
They shrugged that off. That didn’t matter, they said. It was a GREAT game,
they said.
“It wasn’t that great a game,” I said. “I made a point of watching.”
They reminded me that I wasn’t much of a football fan. True enough.
But I reminded that that I had watched quite a few games while at Casey’s. I’d
listened to their opinions and their comments, so, I did know the game. I did
know the rules. Most of them, anyways. And I had watched the game. Sober. So, I
began to describe it to them.
At the half, the score was 3-0, 49ers. There was a lot of stoppage. That in
itself caused the game to drag. In fact, there were so many flags in the first
half that when all the penalties were added to the forward yards gained, the
49ers had advanced 3 yards cumulative, the Bills had lost 4.
I fell asleep in the second half.
If that were my introduction to the NFL, I’d have never watched again.
Actually, I haven’t. Not really.
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