I can hear ya now, ‘wow, he’s blogging two days in a row’! Yep, that’s right sports fans-two days in a row.
Do you recall Sunday mornings around your house back in the day? It was a little different than Saturday, no? The atmosphere, the hangovers, the sounds, the images, the attire…even the morale was a bit different.
Sunday you slept in, but you had to attend mass at Holy Name (probably the 10 or 11 o’clock mass). Remember if you went to 5:30 mass the night before you were excused from Sunday’s? Do they still have 5:30 mass on Sunday nights at Holy Name? How come at school Monday morning the nuns knew you skipped mass? (Yeah, I skipped at times)
Scrounging up loose change around the house to buy the big fat Daily News at Ray and Otto’s (why was the Saturday Daily News soooooo thin?). Fresh Roll’s or chocolate donuts from L & J’s. On Sunday’s you had eggs for breakfast maybe pancakes; possibly french toast? I always drank orange juice on Sunday mornings. How come we always ate dinner earlier than normal on Sunday’s?
If the television was on in the mornings when you woke up it might of been on channel 2, 4 or 7 showing a bunch of political chatty-types. But if mom wasn’t watching anything I’d turn on Davey and Goliath or Popeye the Sailor. When it came to music (and you know there was music played in the morning) mom would turn on the stereo and play some records or she had WCBS-FM (101.1) on the radio playing oldies but goodies.
On Sunday mornings my mom would open all the windows in our apartment and do some deep-cleaning. Or she may of been hustling back and forth with loads and loads of laundry to the laundromat across the street. Seemed like Sunday was clean day. You always had to take your bath or shower on Sunday nights.
After breakfast it was time to grab a basketball and head over to the schoolyard, but…and this is a big but, you couldn’t go in until mass at Holy Name was complete. That usually meant you couldn’t shoot or dribble until 12:30-1:00 ish…It got so bad with us playing in the yard that they put up a big sign on the Church wall marked with the hours of operation the yard was available. They tried closing the gate on Howard Place but we would either slide under or climb over. You don’t know how many times I was yelled at and chased out by a priest. I recall one morning at around 6:30 I thought I would try to get in the yard before mass actually started. Problem was the first mass was around 6AM. If I was lucky to get some shots up while mass was going on, Monsignor Downing would stick his head out of the window of the rectory and shout at me; always addressing me by last name. All week long I would try and avoid him around the neighborhood but whenever I did cross paths with him, he never said anything.
And of course on Sunday’s, if it was football season, you would hop a ride down to Farragut Road to watch Farrell’s and McBears do battle against other bar-sponsored teams in Brooklyn.
This morning I awoke pretty early to Waffles, coffee, sunshine and I sat on my deck reading the New York Times. I’m about to grab my basketball and head over to the courts to get some shots up. Luckily the nearest church is a few miles away. Times have changed…
Have a great day!