On The Sly

Tomorrow's April 1st -- don't look for some April Fool's blog where I tell you I hit the lottery and will give the first ten blog responses a share of my new-found wealth. I've never been big on April Fool's jokes, not even when I was teaching eighth graders. With the arrival of April and the approach of sixty-degree weather, there were always too many other more important things to care about. This is the time of year, more than any other time, when I wish I were twelve years old.

It meant baseball opening day was just a few days away. It meant playing pitch-and-catch with my brother, even my sister, or even the old guy down the street. I'd carry an extra baseball glove around with my own glove and ball, hoping to find somebody to play catch with. The dawn of April meant playing flies-and-grounders in Elizabeth Street schoolyard, right across the road from my house on Johnson Avenue. What was it? Catch 3 flies or 6 grounders and it was your turn to hit?

April meant running down to Burdo's Market to see if the first series of Topps baseball cards was in yet. A penny a pack. One baseball card and a stick of gum for a penny! That's how I got my Ernie Banks rookie card which now books at $1200. The arrival of April meant hoping once again that my Dodgers would be able to beat the Yankees in the World Series the way they did in 1955.

The warm sunny weather meant Little League baseball was just around the corner, that soon I'd be putting on my Nitzi's uniform and joining my teammates over at South Platt Street. Teammates who would become life-long friends, like Kenny Baker, David Baker, Jimmy Wells, Len Duquette, Robin Bouyea and Larry Ebersole.

It meant standing alone in Elizabeth Street schoolyard at 5:30 at night with bat, glove and ball in hand, waiting for my Dad to come walking home from the telephone company garage on South Catherine Street, so that he could hit me some "grinders," as he called them. It meant imagining that I was Duke Snider when I'd come up to bat in our pickup games behind Monty Street School.

Each spring meant oiling up your baseball glove, putting a baseball in the pocket and tying it up overnight. It meant loading up on the chewing gum, especially Bazooka or Double Bubble, so you could pretend you were chewing tobacco like Nellie Fox when you played those pickup games with your buddies.

Springtime meant that Mom would be making her michigan sauce and we'd have lots of summertime meals of michigans and her homemade potato salad. Springtime and warm weather meant that the world was all good. When I was 12, a Catholic would become President of the United States, and even though the Dodgers didn't make it to the World Series, the Pirates did, and they smacked the heck out of the New York Yankees' pitching staff. Bill Mazeroski became a baseball hero, and a National League team was World Champs!

And even though today I'm so far removed from being twelve that it's scary, I'd still like somebody to call me up and ask me to play catch. Today's the perfect day for it! Condominiums now fill in the ballfield at Elizabeth Street schoolyard, and I haven't been behind Monty Street School in decades. But I bet that the ballfield at South Platt Street is vacant. Let's plan an Old-Timer's version of flies-and-grounders.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

I just spent 16 hours without access to the internet. It was an interesting experience. It has taught me how dependent I am on something that just a few years ago I easily did without. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

When I woke up at 6 o'clock Tuesday morning I followed my usual routine: read the Press-Republican (Alex, my newspaper carrier, makes sure I have it every day by 5:30am) and then head downstairs to my den to check my e-mail. Uh-oh ... no connection. Tried a few times, but definitely no connection, so I put in a call to my internet provider to check on the status. Sure enough, I hear, "We are currently experiencing outages in Plattsburgh, New York." Click. I'll have time for some early breakfast and check back in 30 minutes.

Much to my chagrin, there was still no internet connection by 7am, nor by 8am, and I was beginning to wonder how long I would be without my e-mail. Who knows? Maybe somebody important had e-mailed me! Plus, I do a lot of selling on eBay, and how in the world can I go several hours without checking the bids on my items and adding more items up for auction? At 8:30am I checked one more time and still no internet connection. What in the world would I do with the time on my hands that is usually spent online?

Ah, the laundry! I am now entirely caught up on my laundry, thanks to my internet provider. I also resigned myself to watching some early-morning television. I half expected CNN to be reporting, "Internet service is out in Plattsburgh, New York, throwing the city into turmoil." By 10am I was getting the itchy-twitchy feeling without my internet. How in the world can we go 4 hours without being online?

Thank goodness a friend came over to visit at 11am, giving me a reprieve from my blank computer screen and from Judge Joe Brown and Judge Mathis. When she left at 2pm, I was certain that my life would be back to normal, and I could check my e-mail and play at eBay. I hurried to my computer, but still no connection. What was I to do? As a last resort I read an article about John Lennon in Rolling Stone magazine and then read a few chapters from a book I'd been trying to finish. All the while, I would intermittently check to find that my internet provider was not yet providing.

As darkness fell on Plattsburgh I spoke by phone with a few friends who were in a similar situation. They seemed to be dealing with this issue much better than I. However, I was at the point where I was thinking of a law suit against the company for possible money lost on eBay. After all, an entire business day had gone by. I found out that some local businesses couldn't operate their computers and provide their usual service due to the outage. I took a short trip downtown to use my bank's ATM and instead of being able to withdraw a few bucks I saw the message on the screen: OFF LINE.

More hours passed, and I checked my computer another fifty times, and by 9pm, still no connection. I want a day's credit to my account! Or else, I will sue! Finally at 10:30pm ... a connection. All is suddenly well with the world. As it turned out there were no important e-mails. No job offers from ESPN. No blog comments waiting in limbo for my approval. I had somehow survived 16 hours without the internet. I can go to bed a happy man. How did I ever manage the first 50 years of my life without the internet?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 12:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

These NASCAR races every Sunday are getting me mad. I will admit that I've only followed NASCAR for six years, a relative novice compared to those who grew up wearing Dale Earnhardt tee-shirts to school and having a couple of beat-up cars in the backyard. Many of my friends have been following NASCAR since they could walk, and they thoroughly understand the ins and outs of the sport.

But I've become a NASCAR fan, thanks to my friend Lonnie and his Dad Larry. I'm learning the sport as I go, but sometimes I have to wonder if this is really car racing. Yesterday's version of the Food City 500 at Bristol, Tennessee was more like up-scale bumper cars than professional racing. In the final few laps Kurt Busch bumped my man, Matt Kenseth, from behind to take the lead. Then along comes NASCAR's pride and joy, Jeff Gordon. And Gordon gives Kenseth a bump from behind, a move I perfected at the Clinton County Fairgrounds while driving bumper cars when I was ten years old.

Most of Sunday's race was a series of caution flags. The men would drive around the track ten or twenty laps and then there would be a flat tire or guy bumped into the wall or a spinout for no apparent reason. The last count I heard was 18 caution flags. That's not racing. Bumping into cars on purpose isn't racing. Seems like more and more NASCAR is looking like a bunch of high-priced bullies who bend the rules and get away with it. I'm about ready to find something else to do with my Sunday afternoons.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

March Madness - - The NCAA men's basketball tournament has that nickname for a reason! This year, more than ever, the underdogs have had more bite than bark, and that's great to see. Every year the tournament is highlighted by a few upsets and several nail-biters. This year's tournanment, though, has been better than ever. The top seeds were tested even in the first round against the #16s. For several reasons parity has reached men's college basketball. No longer are the #1s and #2s shoo-ins for the "Sweet 16" or the "Elite 8." Even Duke -- mighty Duke -- has been sent home. And last night the UConn players had lumps in their throats in the closing minutes of regulation. Only a miracle shot with 1.8 seconds left gave them new life in overtime.

But I think basketball history was made in one of the big games last night. Villanova and Boston College battled through forty-plus minutes and the game was finally decided on a referee's call. I'm not saying the call should not have been made. I'm not even worrying about whether the call was correct or incorrect. I'm just saying, when do you recall a big game being decided in the final seconds by a referee's call instead of a player making a game-winning basket?

Boston College was up by one in overtime and the clock was winding down against Villanova. With about 4 seconds remaining Nova's Will Sheridan caught a pass under the basket, turned and tossed a shot towards the basket. The BC defender batted the shot away, but was called for goaltending! Count the basket! Count the basket! And Villanova was suddenly ahead 60-59 with just 3 seconds remaining. Even Sheridan can't boast that he made the game-winning basket. It's likely that the ball would have gone in anyway. But if you watch March Madness you know that the ball takes some funny bounces sometimes. Can anyone recall a game where it was the ref's whistle that awarded the game-winner in the closing seconds?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I see that Hulk Hogan now has his own "reality TV show." The guy is still as big and bulked-up as ever and still has that gravelly voice, but he's gotten old. I'm beginning to think I could take him. I used to be a fan of wrestling. Well, I'm talking way back when I was a kid. I remember it was a real treat that once a week we would get wrestling on our little black-and-white TV. That's back when the wrestlers got into the ring and wrestled, threw each other around a bit, did their dropkicks and got the opponents in a five-minute headlock.

That's where I first saw guys like Vern Gagne, who was one of my favorites because his last name was sort of like mine, Killer Kowalski, the Vachon Brothers, Fritz von Erich, Bobo Brazil (remember the Coco-Butt?), Dick the Bruiser, and the flamboyant and perhaps the first "showman" of wrestling, Gorgeous George. Then there were the jumbo wrestlers, who weighed about a thousand pounds. My favorite was Haystacks Calhoun. Sometimes we would really luck out and they'd have the midget wrestlers. There weren't very many in the early days, so often it was the matchup of the "bad guy, " Fuzzy Cupid, versus the "good guy," Little Beaver.

After watching wrestling, my brother and I liked to go to our bedroom and wrestle on the bed, pretending to be some of the guys we had just seen. We'd tear the room apart, throw each other around harmlessly, pretending to give dropkicks and coco-butts. I loved being Fritz von Erich and trying to administer "the Claw" to Goose's stomach. We'd wrestle till one of us would take a hard fall on the floor, and Mom would coming yelling, "Okay, boys, that's enough!"

Wrestle-Mania was at its peak when my son Erik was growing up. I remember getting those special event pay-per-view WrestleMania shows, and it would be a big family event to gather around the TV for that. That was the 1980s and the days of the Hulk, Andre the Giant, George "The Animal" Steele, The Iron Shiek, The Honky-Tonk man (my personal favorite), The Bushwackers (Goose and I were accused of being their cousins!), Jake the Snake Roberts, the Junkyard Dog, Brutus "the Barber" Beefcake and, of course, "Macho Man" Randy Savage.

And remember Macho Man's girlfriend, Miss Elizabeth? Boy, she got our attention! She brought beauty and charm to the wrestling scene amidst the mass of muscles and mayhem. Somewhere in my collection I have great pictures of her when the WWF show came to Lake Placid. We had ringside seats and if you had a camera, would you take pictures of The Iron Shiek or Miss Elizabeth? When she came on the scene, the woman's role in wrestling was quite minimal. She became more famous than "The Fabulous Moolah" of the 1950s. My plan was to steal Miss Elizabeth from Macho Man, but that plan never got off the ground. Sadly, Miss Elizabeth died in 2003 at the age of 42 of an accidental drug overdose, a combination of alcohol with some medication she had taken.

Once Vince McMahon got his stranglehold on wrestling it seems like it became more show and less wrestling. I don't watch wrestling anymore. Just for a few minutes as I flick through the channels. Seems like they are always in the ring, but never wrestling. Seems like they give speeches instead of dropkicks. Also seems like wrestling is a lot sexier than it used to be. Even Miss Elizabeth wore those long gowns. Oh, maybe they were slit up the sides to show her legs. I say, "maybe," because I'm not really sure about that. I wasn't looking that closely. But now it seems there are a lot more women in wrestling and a lot more skin showing. It just seems like the wrestlers pass the microphone around the ring, yell threats at each other and never really get down to wrestling. Does anyone watch wrestling anymore?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

When I abandoned my winter wool socks a few weeks ago, for five measly hours, little did I realize the discontent it would cause. Not only did it get blog readers upset with me, it allowed time for "the bug" to jump onto my bare feet. That bug grew into a monster, officially titled "acute bronchitis and sinusitis" by the staff at the CVPH emergency room on Wednesday night. So, while I've been medicating and sleeping, the North Country world has been passing by my front door. I opened it long enough for some random thoughts to enter the blog:

1. When Dr. Sorey (an interesting name for a doctor) told me that I would be taking STEROIDS for the next week, she noticed the look of shock on my face. I immediately thought of Barry Bonds and wondered if these steroids would be reshaping my body over the next seven days. Is there a Champlain Valley Baseball League team looking for a bulked-up Fox who can hit home runs and draw walks?

2. I don't usually eat much ice cream. Even during the summer I can pass by Harrigan's in West Plattsburgh or that Beekmantown ice cream place without a glance. But get me sick in the house the way I've been for a week and I could eat a half-gallon of ice cream nightly. Is there some medical explanation for this?

3. I've watched a lot of television lately. And I've seen enough of that Geiko creature who seems to appear in every other commercial. I don't keep a gun in the house, but I do have a good pair of work boots that would be great for stomping.

4. My occasional strolls down memory lane have stirred up comments from readers. Some prefer not to have their comments published. My friends Sal Righi, Laverne Hicks and Tom Rennell have e-mailed me some great names and places from the past that I'll be referring to in future blogs.

5. Does anyone subscribe to Charter Cable? For the past several months Channel 10 has been a "religious channel" with speakers discussing, preaching, singing about God. I certainly have nothing against that! But I have the cable system that lists the title of the program at the bottom of the screen everytime you turn the channel. Charter has never updated that! So, whenever I turn to Channel 10 and hear the preachers praising God, and see the words "Balderdash," or "Hillbillies," or "Girlfriends" or "Weakest Link" I can't help but smile. Can't Charter fix that?

6. Nicknamed blog readers such as "W," or "Bullet" or "The Carver" or "Tom-A-Hawk" have added plenty of spice to my blog recipes. I hope they are still out there reading. It was one of them, I believe, who noted that I had spoken at my high school graduation. Indeed, I was the salutatorian and Linda Torrance was the valedictorian for the Our Lady of Victory Academy class of 1966. I even recall that our commencement address was given by Don Garrant, an OLVA grad from the 1950s. Garrant, in those days, worked in the Office of the President at Plattsburgh State. Sister Mary Genevieve, our principal, often told us, "See, you can graduate from this school and go out into the world and make something of yourself!"

7. On a sad note, it was two years ago this week that my friend Dick Trombly passed away suddenly. I still think about him often. "Mr. T" was a veteran teacher at Plattsburgh Junior High School when I started as a teacher in 1970. He took me under his wing in many ways. I watched him talk with students, always friendly and kind. He always carried some kind of candy in his sport coat pocket, handing one out to a student who might be looking a little sad that day. "T" taught me a lot about literature and introduced me to the works of one of his favorite writers, Richard Brautigan. We spent countless hours in his classroom or the faculty room talking about teaching, hoping about the world and sharing our love of collecting any kind of old memorabilia. After he retired I would occasionally visit him at his South Prospect Avenue home and the first thing he would want to do would be play the latest jazz CD he had bought. When he moved away from Plattsburgh I used to look forward to his e-mails. Always something funny to say. Always a great guy at playing a practical joke! And you can bet that if he were alive today, he would be one of the most interesting contributors to this "On the Sly" blog. He was a special man who probably never realized the impact he had on me as a teacher and as a person. It's been two years ... I still miss him!

8. Finally, each week I get a report from the Press-Republican informing me of the number of hits to the "On the Sly" webpage. I am surprised and they are pleased with the numbers. The largest numbers have been when I've written about restaurants and bars and sports. Does that say something about us in the North Country? Are we happiest when we are eating and drinking and watching sports? Sounds good to me!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 1:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

It's March 17 - St. Patrick's Day - the wearing of the green.

With a name like Foxy Gagnon, no one has every mistaken me for an Irishman. Green's never been one of my favorite colors and the nearest I've probably ever come to an Irish anything is a little Bailey's Irish Creme in a drink once in awhile. Although Goose prefers that in his coffee more than I.

But today you can call me O'Gagnon. I'll show my spirit by donning a green shirt and play the role. I've never really celebrated March 17th as much as some people I know. That might go back to the last time I ever went downtown on St. Patrick's Day, and that would be March 17, 1977. A friend and I took our wives to a Margaret Street pub around 9 at night to soak in some of the festivities. The place we chose was extremely crowded, as were all the night spots that particular evening, and we found a small area to stand not far from the front door. Being the gentlemen that we were (and still are, I presume) my buddy and I left our wives safely near the jukebox while we fought the crowd to buy some drinks.

On the return trip through the spirited crowd my friend got bumped and accidently spilled some beverage onto the back of a leather jacket. A leather motorcycle jacket. A leather motorcycle jacket being worn by one of the toughest-looking females I had ever seen. She had some choice expletives for my friend. Being mostly a chicken in those days, I continued through the crowd, not wanting to further provoke the lady we had just met. My friend, however, well-schooled in military hand-to-hand combat and never one to back down to a challenge, gave the bearer of the leather motorcycle jacket a few choice words of his own before moving on.

Moments later he joined me back at the jukebox where our beautiful wives had waited patiently. Before I took my second sip of a cold one a fist came from behind my left ear and smacked my friend flat on the eye. He fell like a bag of cement. A leather-jacketed male pushed me aside pounced on top of my surprised friend, who began fighting his way back from the sucker punch. I leaped forward to rescue my buddy but was grabbed by the neck by a second motorcycle male, who pushed me against the jukebox and put a beer bottle inches from my head. "If you move I'll smash this on your skull,' he barked.

My wife bravely came to my rescue calling him a few names that I didn't realize she even knew. But the man's grasp on my neck never loosened. In less than 30 seconds several bouncers had everyone pulled apart and we were brought outside. Foxy Gagnon kicked out of a bar! Can you believe it? Word was already spreading down Margaret Street that Foxy Gagnon was in a bar fight. So much for my reputation as a chicken!

Once outside one of the bouncers recognized me and knew that I was no competition for the opponents who stood about six feet away from us. He told us to leave, while he held the other combatents hostage. Thus my St. Patrick's Day celebration was a short one. One sip of beer. And that was the last sip of beer I have ever taken on a March 17th.

So today while my friends enjoy the festivities I'll mostly be watching basketball on television. But I do hope the Fourth Ward Leprechaun will grant me a few wishes. Keep my friends safe today and let them party wisely. And if you see any female blue-eyed leprechauns in their 20s who'd like to meet an O'Gagnon, send them over to Saratoga Court. I'll be wearing a green shirt!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 12:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Last night Seton Catholic Central hosted the Champlain Valley Athletic Conference Exceptional Seniors basketball games. The games were close and well-played and it was obvious from watching from my midcourt seat that all the athletes were having a good time. What a great idea this night is! Now that the competition of the CVAC, the sectionals and, for some, the regionals is over, the seniors get one last chance to put on their uniform, show their talents and have some fun.

It was also obvious that the overflow crowd enjoyed the game as well. What was really nice is that I didn't hear one fan yelling at an official! I couldn't help but think how nice it would be if the games were always this relaxed, this much fun for the players and the fans. I realize that I'm wishing for the impossible. After all, there are titles to be won and headlines to make. It was nice to see coaches coaching instead of barking at the officials.

The game had plenty of interesting moments. Most fans had to do a double-take when they saw Northeastern Clinton Central's Darby Turner wearing a Seton Catholic uniform. Through a misunderstanding Darby, one of the unsung heroes of the great NCCS girls' teams over the last two years, left her uniform at home. The Seton Catholic staff came up with a uniform for her to wear, alebeit the one of the host school. So Darby played her final high school game in a Lady Knights uniform. It didn't look right, but it didn't affect her play, as she scored 8 points, dished out assists and hauled down rebounds just as she has done in the Maroon and White of NCCS.

In the girls' game Amanda Sorrell of Seton Catholic felt right at home, hitting a couple of three-pointers and it was nice to see my friend Katie Rostak of Seton Catholic have a great final game with 9 points. Leading all girls in scoring with 15 points was Nicole Dirolf of Ausable Valley, who had a great high school career without much fanfare. Tiffany Lamberton, another of the NCCS starters, who played part of the season with a bad ankle, quietly scored 14 points. And that was without Coach Landry taping her ankle!

Two other unifoms brought smiles to the fans and competitors. In the boys' game Alex "The A-Frame" Richardson and Justin "JC" Christian of Plattsburgh High School wore throwback uniforms from the 1970s. Did we really wear our shorts that short back then? The jerseys were tight, and both guys resembled Olympic bodybuilders. The only things missing were the knee pads. The guys withstood the good-natured remarks of their fellow seniors and the old-style uniform seemed to suit Christian especially well, as he led his team with 15 points. Christian's dad, Mark, had been a basketball scoring machine way back when those uniforms were in vogue. But his son outdid him, popping a three-pointer during the game, something the older Christian never had an opportunity to do.

The halftime competition every year gets the fans' attention: the three-point shot contest and, for the boys, the slam dunk contest. The girls' three-point winner was Courtney Coryea of Northeastern Clinton, who hit 8 of 15 in 45 seconds. Shooting last she beat out Moriah's Lee Ann Slattery, who had tossed in 6. The boys' winner was Kyle Brassard of Northern Adirondack with 9. Brassard won the faceoff against Coryea.

The slamdunk contest wasn't the usual highpoint since the competition lacked the usual array of guys six-foot-three and over. Evan Thompson's winning dunk was a good one, though, and he enjoyed the support of many Saranac females who screeched and applauded and waved signs, sealing the win for the popular Saranac senior.

The officials, George Dyer, Tim Leary, Tom Lacey and Andy Morelli, donated their services to referee. And they worked and sweated. In these games coaches seldom call time outs, so the helpful one-minute breaks for the officials was pretty much non-existant. Except at the end of the boys' game when Division 2 battled Division 1 for the victory and bragging rights. Division 2 coach Jamie Douglas of Ausable Valley borrowed my clipboard and paperwork twice to scribble out what he hoped would be the game-winning play. When the game ended in a tie CVAC officials decided on an unprecedented sudden-death overtime, next point wins! After each side missed opportunities Moriah's Seth Decker outjumped everyone and tipped in a shot giving Division 2 the victory 83-81.

Everyone owes Larry Converse, the CVAC boys' basketball chairperson, and the Seton Catholic staff a big thank you for hosting the event. The players and fans left with smiles!

My personal thanks to all the senior athletes for the many games of fun that we have videotaped over their years in high school. I've got some great souvenirs of their high school years. And while these seniors will indeed be missed, there's a whole group of juniors and sophomores who are already thinking about next year's CVAC baskeball season.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 10:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

A year ago at this time I was correcting essays every Sunday afternoon, working on report card grades and planning vocabulary tests. Anyone who ever saw me teach knows that from my first day in September 1970 until my final day in June 2005, I gave 100% in and out of the classroom. I enjoyed my career immensely and the 35 years seemed to fly by.

Those years gave me the opportunity to see several changes take place in education. Over the three and half decades several new teaching methods or philosophies were introduced. Anyone remember Career Education? Thousands of dollars were spent training teachers and buying materials so that all teachers in all disciplines could teach students to prepare for the "world of work" and it was teacher's task to discuss jobs related to the subjects they taught. As soon as workshops were given and some of the lesson plans implemented, it was time to move on to the next new idea.

At Stafford Middle School, my second home for all those years, many changes occured. "Teaming" became the catchphrase, and, before long, other schools were modeling their curriculum around the Global Citizens of SMS. Special education students moved out of their isolated rooms, sometimes in the basement of the school, and became part of the regular curriculum, often accompanied by a teaching assistant. And then, of course, "accountability" became the catchphrase. State testing became the focus and often the top priority. While understanding the need to evaluate students and programs, I often became frustrated late in my career with the amount of time needed to properly prepare students for, initially, the New York State Writing Competency and, later, the ELA Assessment. Neither test did anything to evaluate a student's creativity.

Of course, computers have become a necessary part of every teacher's classroom. I will admit I fought computers for years. Early on, I recall losing half of my class for 20 minutes every other day so that the students could go to the "computer room" to be taught by a computerized program. I considered the computers an infringement on my time with the students. I felt that nothing could beat the "human contact" of a real live teacher, especially one who was short and balding. That particular program never lasted long, because, as noted earlier, in education it is often time for a new program or new philosophy.

Computers eventually found their way into my classroom, and, eventually, I accepted student work "printed out" instead of the old-fashioned pen-on-paper method. I should point out, however, that I find it interesting that for state testing, students are required to put pen-on-paper and they are restricted from using computers for their essays.

Sometime in the future I'll come back to this topic, because this blog only briefly touches on several changes I saw during the 35 years I worked in a classroom. Technology in the classroom gets a big plus. "Mainstreaming" get a big plus. The death of "tracking" hurt top-level and lower-level students, in some cases, but greatly aided the "average student." Now, there's a phrase -- "average student" -- having taught over 3000 eighth graders in my career, I'm not sure that I ever met an "average student." They were all special and memorable in some way!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 2:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Way back in my third blog (Dec 14, 2005) I began, "I'm keeping my feet warm this winter!" And I have. As a result, nary a sniffle, mucho savings on the winter tissue budget and a much happier Fox. But, I have to admit, I made a mistake!

Last Monday evening, with mild temperatures outside and the fireplace ablaze inside, I took off my trusty pair of woolen socks. They'd been my constant companion since early December. But amidst the heat of the moment, with a belief that spring was just days away, I shed my socks and scooted around the house in bare feet. Felt nice, wiggling my toes near the warmth of the fireplace. For a period of five hours I enjoyed the freedom from those heavy socks.

Tuesday came and went without incident, the socks firmly back in place on my feet. But on Wednesday morning, I noticed a tickle in my throat, and by Wednesday afternoon I sensed a stuffiness in my sinuses. By Thursday morning my entire body was under attack from the famous North Country germs. I could barely swallow and had already gone through half of box of tissues.

I should have known better. But those five hours of feet freedom on Monday have now cost me days of coughing and sneezing. Rest assured that those socks will remain on my feet now until May 1. I'm not taking any more chances with this North Country weather or, worse, those North Country germs. I've lost the battle, but will win the war!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 12:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

My recent blog "The Hot Pepper Steak" mentioned some of the bars on City Hall Place in the Sixties, and that's all it took for readers to flood my desk with comments about some of the popular pubs that Plattsbugh once knew.

One of the places not mentioned, however, was a spot where I sipped my first beer, albeit an illegal one. I think the Statute of Limitations is long overdue, so it's safe to tell the story. The drinking age then, of course, was 18, and a few months before my 18th birthday, I confess, my friend John (he knows who he is!) contrived a way to sneak me into Mr. Patches on Montcalm Avenue. Remember that place? John's scheme worked and with music blasting I tasted my first Black Label. I decided then and there that if this is what beer tasted like, I would never be a beer drinker. I checked the label to see if, indeed, the label said "beer" or "swamp water."

As I turned 18 the neighborhood bar on Fox Hill was the Korina, at the time owned by the Desautels. It exchanged hands through the years, passing for awhile to the Polhemus boys. The juke box and the bowling table sucked down many of my quarters, as I enjoyed time there, much to my dad's chagrin. We had a few "man-to-man" talks about my frequent visits to the Korina. We both survived the experience.

Also in the neighborhood, a few blocks away, was Brodi's, a legendary night spot, with great bands, Canadian girls and far-too-many Air Force guys for us local guys to compete with. Before I was 18, my high school buddy MIke Brodi used to make arrangements with his mom Bea, so that some of us could go in on a Sunday night for a few hours, sit at a table near the band, sip sodas and watch the festivities. That was a real treat!

Many are the North Country couples who can say they "met at Brodi's." I know a couple named John and Brenda who met there and never parted, married almost 30 years now. I know this for a fact, because I was best man at their wedding.

During my college years, especially around 1968-1969 when I was in a fraternity, we had frat parties at the Hotel Deliri on City Hall Place and at the Gran-Vue on Route 9 North.

And, finally, who can forget the days of the dancers at the Trade Winds (now Lake Side Apartments at the end of Margaret Street) and at Happy Herbies? Not that I know personally about these two places! Whatever happened to the Good Ol' Days? I'd write more, but I just got this sudden craving for a Black Label!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)

A few weeks ago the blog "The CCIL" stirred up names from the schools surrounding Plattsburgh during the 1950s and 1960s. Recently, while clearing out some old files, I came across the game program for the Clinton County Interscholastic League All-League basketball game. It was dated February 24, 1966, the year I graduated from high school. This program was given to me by "Uncle Bob," meaning Bob Venne of Champlain. Yes, he was a relative of mine, but that's a story for another blog.

The All-League game was played at the "State University Gymnasium," which is to say, Memorial Hall, I presume. Believe it or not, there were selections for junior varsity All-Stars and All-League cheerleaders, as well as varsity selections. What follows are the names listed in the program as "All-League" players and cheerleaders.

Apparantly the Saranac junior varsity team won the 1965-1966 league championship, because they provided the opposition for the All-League jv players. On the Saranac jv team, coached by David Young, were: Marc Saari, Glen Hamel, Roger Dubray, Walter Kemp, Jim Sears, Mike Doyle, Keith Facteau, Roger LaMora, Ronnie Davidson, Sam Campbell, Mike Hobbs and Eddie Dubray.

The All-League team, coached by Glen Gallagher, had these standouts: Tom Crowley (Altona), Ronnie Vincent (Chazy), Larry Bliven (Champlain), David Chevalier (Champlain), Mark Rogers (Dannemora), Gary Bingle (Lyon Mt), Joe LeClair (Lyon Mt), Brent Golden (Ellenburg), Francis LaBarge (Ellenburg) and Dale Gonyo (Mooers).

The All-League jv cheerleaders: Diana Young (Altona), Martha Riley (Chazy), Kathy Brennan (Dannemora), Meg Casey (Champlain), Margo Wood (Lyon Mt), Dannielle Hoff (Ellenburg) and Nancy Jubert (Mooers). Carolyn Slocum was the coach.

The junior varsity All-League game was officiated by Pickles Proctor and Dud Bullis.

The varsity All-League game was officiated by Bob Parker and Bob Garrow. The Dannemora team won the CCIL title, so they challenged the All-League team. Dannemora, coached by Dick Cole, had the following roster: Jack Kiroy, Byron Wing, Tom Welch, John Recore, Jim Recore, Hal Recore, Don Brennan, Mike Tacy, Tim Ryan, John Mitchell, Russell Haley, Roger Taft and John Fitzgerald.

Their All-League opponents: Gary Dragoon (Altona), Andrew LaFave (Altona), Leo Payant (Chazy), John NIles (Champlain), Gary Moeller (Champlain), James Miller (Ellenburg), Steve Tolosky (Lyon Mt), Jack Mousaw (Mooers), Harold Hackett (Saranac) and Alan Coryer (Saranac). The coach was George Brendler of Chazy.

The All-League varsity cheerleaders: Lynn Van Arman (Altona), Jill Relation (Chazy), Margaret Walsh (Champlain), Linda LaBombard (Ellenburg), Joyce Wood (Lyon Mt), Sandra Barcomb (Mooers) and Laurie LaGoy (Saranac). The coach was Donna Collins.

The court announcer was Bill Fritz, the Ellenburg principal. The varsity contest was easily won by Dannemora over the All-Stars 98-62. Tom Welch scored 28 and captain Jack Kiroy tossed in 22. Co-captain Byron Wing added 17. The All-Leaguers were paced by Johnny Niles with 17.

Some great names from the CCIL, a league that eventually disintegrated with the centralization of schools in the North Country.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

With just 30 days until the Opening Day of Baseball Season (everyone bow or genuflect), here are some random thoughts on my favorite sport:

1. I love baseball!

2. I wish that this baseball season some major leaguers would play with an injury. I've had enough of high-salaried players who can't play because of "turf toe" or their ankle hurts. Did they ever hear of Mickey Mantle, who played with heavily-taped knees for much of his career? Who limped his way back out to center field after blasting a home run in his previous at bat? Playing hurt was just something the old real major leaguers did regularly. They didn't worry about a sore toe or a hangnail.

3. Best modern-day "old-time" pitchers: Roger Clemens and Randy Johnson, the Walter Johnsons of the 2000s.

4. Barry Bonds may be the most talented "headcase" in baseball history.

5. Best emerging superstar: Catcher Joe Mauer of the Minnesota Twins. Just as baseball's greatest-hitting catcher, Mike Piazza, is nearing the end of a Hall of Fame career up steps Mauer, who will finally play a full season without injury.

6. Best radio/TV talk show: "Mike and the Mad Dog." Just one day I'd like to fill in for Mike and work with the Mad Dog, giving my opinions, arguing with callers, pulling the plug whenever I wanted on irate fans, all the while sipping a Diet Coke. I wonder if the North Country would watch a public-access TV show called "Fox and the Mad Goose."

7. With no Montreal Expos nearby, it seems like so much trouble to go to Fenway Park or Yankee Stadium, our closest big league sites.

8. My best big league stadium memories are sitting in Dodger Stadium with my son and wife and enjoying a couple of Dodger Dogs (the Dodgers are 4-0 with me in attendance), and my Dad saving up some extra overtime money to take my brother and me to Yankee Stadium to see the Mick, Yogi, Whitey and the boys. I think it was his last-ditch effort to get me to be a Yankees fan like he was.

9. We are 30 days away from another baseball season of me, the Dodgers fan, arguing with Goose, the Yankees fan. It's a great family tradition!

10. Minor league baseball is the best!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 5:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Our recent blog journeys into high school sports teams of the past brought back many great names. The North Country sports scene is rich with outstanding athletes, and readers published many comments about players who live on in our memories. But who were "the best of the best"? That sounds like something we could blog about for months. I have my opinions, based mostly upon the athletes I observered while playing football, basketball and baseball at Our Lady of Victory Academy in Plattsburgh. Oh, I'd love to be on somebody's best list, but, admittedly, I wasn't big enough, strong enough or talented enough to make it.

In football I started as a quarterback, but was too short to see over the offensive linemen, so making an accurate pass was purely guesswork. In basketball I wasn't confident enough to shoot -- not until my final four games of my high school career. I went out in a blaze of glory with 25 points in my final high school game, a Catholic League playoff game on some faraway court. I remember standing in the locker room showering and wishing I could start my high school basketball career over again. In baseball I could hit the ball with accuracy and occasional power, but I played first base. I was the shortest first baseman in the league. In my senior year when there was a hint that a pro scout might be interested I was moved to the outfield, where I felt like a stranger and played like a blind man. So much for a college or pro baseball career.

But I did play alongside, against and then watch some greats. What follows are my choices, hoping readers will toss in theirs:

Best running back in football - Leon Angevine of Peru- This guy ran over defensive linemen, he ran over linebackers and then could outrun the defensive backs. Heck, he could run over stone walls and small cars. Then he went off to play at Penn State. The closest I ever got to him was sitting in the grandstand at Bailey Avenue Ballpark, being in awe whenever he took the handoff.

Best all-around football player - Greg Ducatte of Mount Assumption Institute - This guy was a quarterback and running back rolled into one. Solidly built he was tough to tackle, plus he had the speed for the breakaway and an outstanding passing arm. Joe Paterno wanted him at Penn State, and Ducatte obliged, where he ended up a starting defensive back.

Best ballhandler in basketball - Joe Cardany of PHS - Not only was he a great scorer, he controlled the basketball. He saw the court, anticipated the moves of his teammates and seldom turned the ball over to the opposition. It's no coincidence he went on to set so many records Union College.

Best pure shooter - Tommy Herlihy of St. John's / PHS and Andy Morelli of St. Mary's of Champlain. These guys could score from the outside. In the days before the three-point shot these guys were natural long-range shooters. They could have scored 20 in any gym with the lights out.

Best high school baseball pitcher - Jody Johnston of Franklin Academy in Malone - I didn't play with or against this guy, but I did coach against him. When I coached junior varsity baseball at PHS I took my team to face this guy on a Saturday morning in Malone. In seven innings, facing this freshman righthander, we hit three foul balls and cheered when we did! He had blazing speed and our batters, one-by-one, came back to the bench knowing they had never seen a pitcher like this one. Johnston's outstanding high school pitching career landed him a pro contract with the New York Mets. Jody could have stuck his nose up at the North Country at that point, but he never did. He remained humble and a great guy, and probably still is.

Best pure baseball player - Lefty Tessier of Our Lady of Victory Academy - You can't make a list like this and not have Lefty some place. One of the legendary names in North Country high school sports he was a standout basketball player, one of the scoring leaders during his time. However, he went on to play professional baseball, so I've listed him here. Lefty was a natural hitter. He just made it look easy. And the Philadelphia Phillies agreed, signing him to a contract after his college career at St. Michael's College. Lefty was on his way to the big leagues, but a collision and ensuing injury short-circuited his promising pro career.

Best baseball teammate at OLVA - Mike Flynn - Mike later transferred to MAI, but we played a few years on the same diamond. He was smooth at shortstop and an outstanding hitter. He knew the game of baseball and, from my vantage point at first base, I knew he was like a coach on the field, even as a youngster. Plus, he played some great practical jokes in the locker room!

Toughest pitcher for me to hit - Alan Beaubriand of MAI - Oh, my! I was a pretty good hitter from the left side of the plate, but I once took three fastballs from this southpaw -- three pitches that sliced the outside corner like a knife through butter on a June day -- and I never swung at one of them. I took my bat back to the bench and Coach John Flynn said, "Hey, you've gotta swing." I smiled and shrugged, "Yah, but I never saw one of them!" To this day if I saw Alan Beaubriand walking down the street, I'd take to the other side.

Best all-around athlete - Carl King of OLVA - Carl was a senior when I was a freshman. I never had to play against him, but watching him play high school sports for four years was a joy. Carl was the quarterback in football. What an arm! What a runner, like a deer, those long legs taking long strides and then changing direction in a split second! My freshman year I was Carl's backup quarterback. That year the team went 7-1. The one game we lost was the first game of the season. Carl suffered a concussion in Ticonderoga in the second quarter. In my high school debut as a backup quarterback, I had to fill in the rest of the game. We lost. Carl loved kidding me about that! In basketball he scored at will and in baseball he tore the cover off the ball, sometimes slugging the ball over 400 feet onto South Catherine Street. In my mind, and in the minds of many, he'll always be "The King of the Hill."

My list leaves out some great athletes I competed against. Guys like Jeff Burns of PHS, Harry Canning of St. John's, Joe Proctor, who became my good buddy at OLVA before leaving for Beekmantown. My list also leaves out the females, because girls sports hadn't really been invented yet. But I will say this:

Best female athlete - Missy West of Franklin Academy - This one was easy. In softball she tossed no-hitters with regularity, but in basketball she was amazing. Everyone agreed she would have started and starred on any boys team at the time. Missy played at Duke University, and would have had a standout collegiate career had it not been for injuries. I wonder what she's doing now. She is my dream interview for my "Fox on the Run" public-access tv show.

Well, that's my list. What's yours?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 7:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (16)