Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Street Football

I was bringing in groceries from my car the other day, and I saw some kids playing football on the street, and that made me happy. I live in a Suburb of Los Angeles, called Burbank and on my street there is a ton of apartment buildings and lots of kids and teens in the area. And the funny thing is, in the 8 years I've lived here, I've never heard any ball playing out in the street, and that sucks.

Growing up as a kid in New Jersey, that's all we did. Weekends, after school, summer time, you name it, we'd be out playing whatever sport was in season, and would be having a blast. We didn't stay inside playing video games we were outside and having fun with others. Now I know these days, parents are apprehensive to let there kids be on the streets because of child molesting perverts who might try to take advantage of them and abduct them, but in my day, folks didn't worry about that. Oh, and the reason being is, if some fucked up, trench coat wearing, Michael Jackson in waiting ever pulled up his car and asked any of us if we wanted candy, he'd have twenty three neighborhood kids jumping in his automobile and kicking his ass until the cops could come and arrest his sorry, beaten up ass!

To me, hearing kids tossing a football on the street today was invigorating. It brought me back to my youth when things weren't as fucked up as they are now. I remember playing street hockey on my old road, called Old Towne. When you were in a middle of a game and a car was driving your way, you'd call time out and pull the hockey nets to the curb, so the car could get by. But it never changed the game, it always picked up where it left off, and even if we were interrupted by traffic eight times in an hour, we were having fun.

Old Towne Road was also the scene of epic football games. Playing football in the street was dangerous because one false move and you ended up eating the pavement. It was great making pass patterns for your teammates.

“OK, Espo, go down to the Epstein’s driveway and cut to the left. Chooch, go to Mrs. Nolan’s Buick Elektra and do a slant pattern. Jimbo, go past the third telephone tree and when you see the big Elm tree do a button hook. Oh and Starr, you stay back and block, because the only reason you are playing is because your sister is hot.”

However, you never see that anymore. Kids aren't kids, just going out and fucking around. We used to play tackle football and come home bruised and hurting, but we were fine with that. These days, if a child came home with a bleeding knee, I'm sure his parents would be filing a law suit against the kid he was playing with, because that youngster committed assault in some way. (I mean, shit, I don't think Sears' Toughskins are around anymore, because they led to abuse. You could get your ass kicked all day wearing those fucking pants, and no one would be able to tell, because the always ended up unmarked. Damn, the concept of double enforced knees was brilliant.)

I may be preaching, but you know what? That's what I do. I'm not a parent, but to all the parents out there, please let your kids be kids and have them go out and play. A bloody nose, a scraped knee, a stomach ache from being out in the heat and playing too long isn't something bad, it makes people who they are. The children and teens of yesterday are now the parents of today, and you know what? We were renegades, so we shouldn't be raising a generation of couch potato, video game playing, fatties who are total whiny pussies!

No comments: