Page 92 - People & Places In Time

Friday Night Football
houses and cold storages that define the economy of Exeter; in support of the farmers surrounding Exeter who grow the fruit. The Emperor grapes, Navel oranges, peaches and plums are packed then shipped by rail and truck across the country. Here as well are the packing houses where I would spend my high school summers working.
In the late 1920’s into the 30’s my dad and uncle played football on this field and by the late 1950’s into the 1960’s so did I.
As a young boy I accompanied my dad and mom to the Friday night games. The bermed concrete and wood stands were on the west side. The stands separated from the players by the width of a quarter mile dirt track that encircled the field . . . where I would also run track in the springtime. We arrived by car with other families through a gate at
the Rocky Hill Drive side, on the opposite side of the field from the grand stands. With others like us we’re jockeying for the preferred spot for each to park their cars on the track right up to the grass. Cars were lined up facing the field, side by side from around each end zone and all along the East side of the field. Fall nights were much colder then and my parents remained in the car to watch the games. This tradition of parking next to the field must have begun as early as the 1920’s, but I can’t say for sure. As for me, I was out of the car with friends whose parents were parked here as well. We played and watched on the grass, up and down the sideline and behind the visiting player’s bench.
We stood at the sideline as players ran past ever so close, to then be crashed to the turf when tackled nearly at my feet. The fact that I could stand so close only height- ened the experience; then listening as the announcer called out their names. Gene Fer- guson, Kenney Guinn and others I couldn’t wait to follow. The irony is that I would play with Gene on an alumni team in the early 1980’s. He was too old, and I was too oblivious to the risks; but there we were, on the same team on our home field.
United again on the playing field with players from other years, both before and after I had played. This was our last opportunity to relive this bond with teammates united in the common goal; to win in front of the home crowd, that now includes wives and children instead of girlfriends and class mates. Sadly, my father wasn’t there, as he was at home, less than a block away, dying of cancer. Our foe, Woodlake; the same team we met so many times throughout the years.
Now days some of the players on teams from nearby rival towns such as Lind- sey and Woodlake have become friends, and we come across each other from time to time. The same bond we had with our own teammates is there as well with these former opponents. Briefly, during the summer of 1969, following my return from the Navy, I had considered playing football at College of the Sequoias. I spent evenings on the practice field scrimmaging with others from the area including a good friend Tom Schulte who had quarterbacked at Woodlake. I realized I could play but found myself two or three years older than most of the guys and decided it was time to move on in my life. Except for this one last alumni game.
The fog shrouded field on this early November night was indistinguishable from when we played here in the early 60’s. Standing on the field I look down to the once green Bermuda grass turned a familiar straw color from the cold of late fall nights, the field lights dimed by the fog drifting in; soon we could hardly see the length of the field, as if in
In 1982, twenty years following our last football game as high school seniors in
1962. I joined with some of my former team- mates and other players in an alumni game against Woodlake. The game was played
in Exeter and we won 24 to 13. My number is 85, with not just my teamates but friends. Jim Heaton number 25 has re-
mained a close friend since high school; John Keyes number 55 with his son Keven, I've known since we were babies, and Jim (Jay) Johnson standing behind us; his family lived across the street from mine on Lenox Avenue.
76