Bobby? Bobby Cyzliak? We played footble in the IntraMural Championship of '73. Whupped even the Boss Kids. See, Cyzliak was the quarterback, and I was known as "The Touchdown Kid." I invented the play, and Cyz, well, he had the arm and the ability to avoid the rushers. No pads, no uniforms. No ADULTS. It was 'touch' footble the way deep space is 'cold.' We all whacked each other perty good. "Touch" footble indeed. Everybody got whacked. Except for me and Cyzliak. He dodged everyone that penetrated the pocket (and there weren't many, mind you), and I NEVER got touched. I was simply too fast. Fastest kid in school. Well, halfway through the season, Ol' Cyzliak and me was talkin' about ways we could beat the Boss Kids when I invented the Play. THE PLAY, you know? Oh, you've seen it, but we gave it its name. The "One-Two-Three-Banana Play." World renowned now, it is. We'd jabber and shirk and skiffle on the line, delaying the hike while the other team listened and catcalled for us to hike the ball already. Then we'd stop and go totally silent. This was the Crux. Cyzliak had told us about his Dad beating anyone at the dinner table that talked, and apparently one-two-three-banana was some sort of game made up between his brothers and sister that made everyone try to make the other kid laugh. Then the lickings would begin. What a way to eat dinner. Anyway. The whole line would stop jabbering, stand up as one, then go back into position. Then Cyzliak would yell "One Two Three BANANA!" and the ball would be hiked. By the time the other kids stopped laughing, it was too late. I'd run down the field, zagging and zigging, and Cyzliak would use that great arm of his to put that footble right into my hands as I crossed the goal line YARDS ahead of any one of the Boss Kids. We Won the trophy that year. Hands down. Unbeaten. Good old Cyzliak. I wonder where he is today?
WE never laughed. It was the other team that did it and it cost them only a second. That was all we needed for me to get the one-two-three steps I needed.
BANANA!
See?
Bet you have milk coming out your nose right now.
I know I did. Have the wire end of the flyswatter scars to prove it, too.
3 comments:
Bobby? Bobby Cyzliak? We played footble in the IntraMural Championship of '73. Whupped even the Boss Kids.
See, Cyzliak was the quarterback, and I was known as "The Touchdown Kid." I invented the play, and Cyz, well, he had the arm and the ability to avoid the rushers. No pads, no uniforms. No ADULTS. It was 'touch' footble the way deep space is 'cold.' We all whacked each other perty good. "Touch" footble indeed. Everybody got whacked.
Except for me and Cyzliak. He dodged everyone that penetrated the pocket (and there weren't many, mind you), and I NEVER got touched. I was simply too fast. Fastest kid in school.
Well, halfway through the season, Ol' Cyzliak and me was talkin' about ways we could beat the Boss Kids when I invented the Play. THE PLAY, you know? Oh, you've seen it, but we gave it its name. The "One-Two-Three-Banana Play." World renowned now, it is. We'd jabber and shirk and skiffle on the line, delaying the hike while the other team listened and catcalled for us to hike the ball already. Then we'd stop and go totally silent. This was the Crux.
Cyzliak had told us about his Dad beating anyone at the dinner table that talked, and apparently one-two-three-banana was some sort of game made up between his brothers and sister that made everyone try to make the other kid laugh. Then the lickings would begin. What a way to eat dinner. Anyway.
The whole line would stop jabbering, stand up as one, then go back into position. Then Cyzliak would yell "One Two Three BANANA!" and the ball would be hiked. By the time the other kids stopped laughing, it was too late. I'd run down the field, zagging and zigging, and Cyzliak would use that great arm of his to put that footble right into my hands as I crossed the goal line YARDS ahead of any one of the Boss Kids.
We Won the trophy that year. Hands down. Unbeaten.
Good old Cyzliak. I wonder where he is today?
Pahrump, I hear. Pumping gas.
I do recall the One-Two-Three-Banana Play. It could backfire if your team was the only one laughing. The refs never laughed.
WE never laughed. It was the other team that did it and it cost them only a second. That was all we needed for me to get the one-two-three steps I needed.
BANANA!
See?
Bet you have milk coming out your nose right now.
I know I did. Have the wire end of the flyswatter scars to prove it, too.
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