Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/22 - Wax On

Seeing old friends from Lafayette H. S. yesterday has me waxing nostalgic. Here’s an excerpt from , wherein the main character relates an experience to his wife, as he does throughout the novel. It’s a couple of minutes read:
“Was that the game your team scored the touchdown?”
“No, the one before it. We dominated the second half but couldn’t score. Toward the end of the game Joe Pascarella, our co-captain, got behind the secondary on the far sideline and caught a bomb. He limped toward the goal line with everything he had. He’d sprained his ankle a few weeks back. His ankles were so thin you could fit your hand around them.” Rick made a small circle with his fingers. “He was caught at about the ten, and their defense held. I ran off the field at the end of the game ahead of everybody else. As I was taking off my shoulder pads in the locker room, Joe came storming in, wailing as if he’d just lost his only child. He was raving, pounding his helmet against a locker. I felt so distant, so detached. It was one of the strangest feelings I ever had. I felt no remorse at all at having lost, at having been shut out again—and there was poor Joe Pasc’, devastated that he hadn’t scored, as if it would’ve erased our shame as a team. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I kept my mouth shut, even though his eyes met mine with
such sorrow.”
“Wow,” said Kelly sadly.
“I don’t think I ever saw anybody in such pain. On the bus ride home he had his head buried in his arms the whole way.”
“I doubt anything anyone would’ve said would’ve appeased him.”
“I’d always liked him before that, but from then on I looked at him as a kid would an adult. We had some great battles our senior year. I was a pulling guard and he was a defensive end. In drills I had to do what’s called a ‘kick-out’ block on him. Christ, he hit hard. I don’t know where he got his power from. He was skin and bones, always moaning about not being able to gain weight. He ignited every nerve in my
body the way he uncoiled into a hit. I always wondered if he hated me for that moment in the locker room when I’d caught him at his most vulnerable. I must’ve seemed so pride-less to him. But it wasn’t only that. Maybe he had troubles at home. He might’ve been angrier inside than I was.”

Here are some pics from yesterday's old-timer's game at Lafayette H. S.. The first is of legendary coach Joe Gambuzza:

Here's one of yours truly and two of his former charges, Andrew left, Roger right. I hadn't seen Rog in about 30 years:

Here's one of yt and Joe Spinelli. Our paths have intersected through Lafayette, the Exchange, and on the softball diamond as teammates and opponents:

This is fleet-footed CF, Bob (Tuna), a ballhawk not only at LHS but for our neighborhood Redmen softball team. He and Anthony (Diz) supplied the pics. My thanks:

My thanks also to the kind folks who bought books today on Bay Parkway.
Vic's 4th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic's Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic's 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic's Horror Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3
Vic's Rom-Com Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kny5llp
Vic’s Short Story on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/k95k3nx