Young cousins gathered, bored, you see, As adults sat and gabbed
Kerry, Randy, Joe, and Rick were brothers, understand
And Kelley, Jay, and Stanley too, All
cousins in the clan
None had attained high school yet (Well,
maybe one or two)
And all persisted in the cry, “But Mom,
what can we do?”
The feast of thanks had passed two days, ‘twas
Saturday, high noon
One thought rang from who knows where, A game,
outside, and soon
Sullen ranks of young boys trudged into
so-called fresh air
No games of video back then, Just ovoid
balls of air
It took some time to choose up teams. At last that feat was done
The ball took flight the catch was made, The
Turkey Bowl begun
From that point on as years went by on that
same day and time
The game they played again, and made, Such memories
sublime
Soon Cousin Jer, he joined the fray, and
friends from school and work
A different site they needed now, And thus
began the search
Weis Junior High had such a field and there
they played a few
But finally The Place was found, Ball High’s
Spoor Field would do
And on that field for years to come the
game’s traditions formed
The tour train’s visits halftime called, Year
thirteen’s t-shirts worn.
Dee Clements never showing up, a trophy in
his name,
Uncle Jerry’s TD pass As oldest in the game
A wife was dressed as cheerleader, and Jay served
as the ref,
And finally the girls could play, Kris,
Karen and the rest
We returned from Denver town to be here
year to year
Even after surgeries the crutches would
appear
Injuries they came with age, old hamstrings,
knees, and feet
Videos record the match For our posterity
And children came, the legacies, Kel and
Nathan, too
With stitches Hardy welcomed Josh but he’d
be back anew
Years have passed and changes came, locked
from the field, I fear
No more tour train, smaller crowds, for Ike
we missed a year
But slowly, surely, from the ash, the game
continues on
Back to its roots, out in the street, Hey,
let’s just have some fun
OK.
Historically speaking, the game began long before we started “officially”
naming it The Turkey Bowl. That occurred
somewhere around 1974. The only way
archaeologists and anthropologists have been able to determine even this date
is an obscure reference to t-shirts that were printed and distributed in 1987 as
souvenirs of “Turkey Bowl Thirteen.” My
guess is we probably began out in the street in front of my cousins’ house on
Tern in Galveston around the year 1965.
Maybe earlier. That would make
this year at least Turkey Bowl XLVIII.
The game does still continue. We play today in the street in front of our
house on Sycamore at High Noon. All are
welcome. All ages. Boys or Girls. All skill sets. Grandchildren will be participating. As will grandparents. You can do it.
Ephesians 2:19-21 says, “Consequently, you are no longer foreigners
and aliens, but fellow citizens with God's people and members of God's
household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ
Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone.”
Father, some of us old guys with tender
hamstrings and sore knees could sure use an extra dose of energy today. It’s hard enough to keep up with these
youngsters just playing video games. Thanks. Amen.
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