Football in the street; two hand touch. Our ball was rolled up newspaper wrapped with string. We dodged a pile of manure here and there, but it was still fun.
When someone came up with a real football we went to Columbus Park and played tackle. We never had a full team on either side, but we could mix it up.
The only time I was ever injured is the one and only time I wore equipment; helmet, shoulder pads and knee pads. One play is all it took. It was the kick off. The ball went sailing over my head, I turned to see where it was going and the damned thing bounced backward, landed in my arms and the whole team hit me. I only went down on one knee. The ankle of that leg was where half the tacklers ended up.
I limped to the sideline and my vision turned purple. The whole world was purple. I passed out for about 10 or 20 seconds. For the next 3 weeks as I limped about, the guys called me elephant ankle. Never again wore equipment and I never lost my appetite for football or food.
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