On The Sly

When I was a kid in Plattsburgh, there was no more spectacular sight than watching a night baseball game at Bailey Avenue Ballpark. For the younger crowd, that would be in the vicinity of the current Penfield Park with its Little League field, Lefty Wilson Baseball Field and the football field. With the multitude of bright lights against the dark night sky and the massive grandstand for the fans, the whole scene was just spectacular.

I can remember the first time I ever saw this, and I wasn't even at the park. My Uncle Viv, my grandmother's brother, Vivian Venne, lived on Bailey Avenue. His wife Elizabeth still resides there. Uncle Viv brought my father and me up to the roof of his garage, which overlooked the park. I was about six years old, so that would have been around 1954. The lights, the sky, the grandstand full of people, the murmur of the crowd - I was in awe. That would be my most impressive sight until 1958 when my father brought me to Yankee Stadium. That place was even bigger than Bailey Avenue Park.

Later in my sports career I would have some memorable moments at the Bailey Avenue Park. After watching teams like the Plattsburgh Majors and Plattsburgh Falcons on this diamond I had the opportunity to play my first night baseball game. I was playing first base for Copeland's Oil, a Babe Ruth League team, when tragedy struck. Third baseman Phil Dubuque drifted under an infield popup. Looking into the lights Phil lost track of the ball and it landed smack down on the bridge of his nose. Phil was taken to the hospital with a broken nose and I was left hoping no one would hit an infield popup my way.

Later, in high school ball, I remember watching from the left-handed batter's box while southpaw Alan Beaubriand fired bee-bees at me from the mound. I was trying to hit against him, but never saw the three pitches. I never swung at one of them. When I returned to the bench Coach John Flynn gave me a little grin and quietly said, "You have to swing if you want to hit it." I just shook my head, and said, "Coach, I never saw the pitches."

In the next game I would hit one to deep right field, sending the right fielder to the fence before he could catch it. When I returned to the bench Coach Flynn said, again with a little grin, "Nice one!" I just smiled back, seeing his look of surprise that his skinny 140-pound first baseman (yeah, that's me!) could hit it that far.

In one of my final games at Bailey Avenue Park I pitched against the Plattsburgh High School Hornets. I really wasn't a pitcher. My fastball could be better described as a fatball. And I had this little knuckle-curve ball. Nothing like the curve balls that Jim Baker or Hal West or Johnny Mooney used to fire.

Anyway I took to the mound against the mighty Hornets and gave up two runs in the first inning. But Coach Flynn was sticking with me for the long haul. In the second inning with one out, the Hornets loaded the bases on a walk and a couple of line shots up the middle. Into the batter's box steps Hector Duquette. Oh, sure, Hector's my friend now. But in those days Hector didn't even know who this little Gagnon pitcher was. He showed me no respect! Hey, here I was just starting to shave and there was Hector in his Plattsburgh Sesqui-Centennial beard! This was an obvious mismatch!

I decided to fool the old fellow with my knuckle-curve. Well, it didn't knuckle and it didn't curve. I saw the look of fear on my catcher Dennis Mooney's face. Hector swung and smacked a double off the center field wall, which was about a 450-foot ride in that park. He cleared the bases. So much for Coach Flynn sticking with me for the long haul. I was done in an inning and a third. And Hector smiled at second base.

For years I've tried to find a picture of this Bailey Avenue ballpark, especially one showing the grandstand. I checked the old newspapers at the Press Republican. I asked my cousin Ronald Venne if he had a picture in his large collection of photographs. I have spoken to many "old-timers," but no one seems to have a photograph showing the grandstand area of Bailey Avenue.

So, here's my world-wide plea. Is there anyone who has such a photo? I'd gladly buy someone a few sodas as a reward!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 8:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (11)

The phrase "the good ol' days" apparantly couldn't fit any place better than Plattsburgh. Just mention some old bars, restaurants or department stores and my e-mail file lights up like no other subject. Growing up in the late Fifties and into the Sixties I was lucky to sample some of the nostalgic spots, but to really have enjoyed Plattsburgh the most, it seems like you had to be growing up in the Forties and early Fifties, like the Old-Timer and Mike Mannix did.

One of my loyal blog readers and a longtime friend asked me about the Korina and he knows the original name of that establishment on Elizabeth Street. I don't. It was always the Korina or "the K" to me and my buddies. Does anyone else remember what it was called prior to being named the Korina?

Blog reader and fellow Fox Hiller Tom Rennell reminded me awhile ago about Mason's Lumber Yard in Plattsburgh. I'd forgotten about that. It's an apartment complex now on Pine Street, adjacent to the City Police Department. But as kids we'd see trucks in and out of there all day hauling 2x4s.

Does anyone recall Jennette's IGA on South Catherine Street? My mother would push me in the stroller down Johnson Avenue and around the corner. I'm sure it's the first big store I ever saw. On that site now is Adirondack Market, owned and operated by the Tetreaults.

What other places are in the back of our memory files? How about Steltzer's Sunoco Station? Or Robarge's Bakery! Oh, my, the best glazed doughnuts I ever tasted. Even better than Krispy Kremes. Or the Altamont! Did you ever order a Pig's Dinner? And what was the name of the other dairy bar near the corner of South Catherine and Broad Streets?

Let's jog a few more memories. What other long-forgotten places can you recall?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (22)

A few days ago I found a book titled "Plattsburg Panorama." It was published in 1949 as a guidebook for tourists. In addition to the interesting information there were several ads for local businesses. Since I was born in 1948 this little booklet gave me an idea of what our city was like when I was born, since I don't remember a lot from those days, having spent much of the time sleeping and eating in my new home on Johnson Avenue, enjoying all the comforts a first-born gets from attentive parents.

There was a full-page ad for the Hotel Cumberland. I do recall being in that place a few times during my college days. Wasn't that on the very corner that is now the site for the controversial Bove Project? But I'm sure by the time I visited that building in 1966 it had changed a great deal from 1949. The ad states: "Spend the night in one of our modern comfortable rooms and start the day refreshed." You could dine in the English Tavern or the MacDonough Room. Plus the ad refers to a "Men's Bar" (try that one in 2006!) and the "Carousel Snack Bar and Bus Terminal." Now that's an interesting combo!

Of course, there's also an ad for the Witherill Hotel. I was never in the Fife & Drum Restaurant and Bar, but I bet some readers were there on a Saturday afternoon. The ad says that the hotel is "recommended by Duncan Hines." Didn't they make cake mixes?

There's an ad for Merkel's - "the store of Cheerful Service" - at 74-76 Margaret Street. Most of us will remember that store. What was it? Three floors of shopping? Are those gold letters still in the sidewalk in front of the Merkel's building?

I found one ad particularly interesting from the 1949 booklet: Wilson's Swedish Massage Parlor. Located at 25 Clinton Street, it was "for men and women" and provided "cabinet steam baths, scientific massage and colonic irrigations." Let's hear the Old-Timer explain that one!

The Monopole, one of the few survivors from 1949, was owned then by Phil J. Blair and the ad notes: "same ownership for 53 years." If you needed a taxi you could call McCready's Taxi, "established in 1911," or Toner's Cab Service with "29 years under the same management."

Do you recall O'Neill's Funeral Home at 72 Brinkerhoff Street? J.J. O'Neill was the funeral director.

Just as there is today, Plattsburgh's downtown area had plenty of places to dine, although most are gone today. On Margaret Street alone you could choose from Candyland (62 Margaret), the Horseshoe Restaurant (83 Margaret) and Mickey's Tavern (20 1/2 Margaret). The College Diner was at 50 U.S. Avenue and next door was Gordon's Tavern, while Filion's Grill was at 39 Bridge Street. There was the Miss America Diner on City Hall Place and the Redwood on Clinton Street. The Cozy Corner was at the corner of Montcalm and Elm Streets, and over near Plattsburgh State Teachers College you could find a good meal at The Varsity on the corner of Court and Beekman Streets.

By the time I could go downtown by myself, and, with my strict parents, that was around the age of twenty, I was shopping at Kresge's and Woolworth's and Montgomery Ward. One of my favorite stops was Les Spofford's Record Center. I think it was near the corner of Brinkerhoff and Oak Streets. You could put on the headphones and sample the 45 rpm record before you bought it. I remember doing that before I spent 99 cents on "Good Golly, Miss Molly" by Little Richard.

1949 was 57 years ago! I think businesses come and go, but Plattsburgh remains the same great place to live.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

A simple trip downtown has turned into quite a battle. Used to be just the potholes one had to contend with on some of our city streets. Now it's much worse. I know when it's finished we will all be saying that it was worth it, or it wasn't that bad now that the streets are all smooth and perfect.

But right now it's an obstacle course. I know many residents, especially some older drivers, who, in the past, have avoided the upper Cornelia Street area because of the four lanes and hectic pace of the vehicles. Can you imagine downtown driving being worse? I'm at the point, though, where I may avoid good old Margaret Street and the several other downtown streets that are torn up and scattered with heavy equipment.

Now this isn't to point a finger at Luck Brothers, the lucky bidders for this job. The job has to be done, and I'm sure their engineers know the best way to go about their business. It's just that my daily drive to the post office, bank or favorite restaurant for soup is starting to get the better of me.

Make sure you don't bother washing your car if you're going to be driving downtown. Mine is covered with dust from my daily treks, and it's going to stay that way until I finally decide to head west on Cornelia to go to the bank, the post office annex and a different restaurant for my daily lunchtime soup.

And this doesn't even take into account the parking places lost due to the street construction. Parking has always been a challenge downtown, especially around lunch time. Some might say, there's plenty of parking in the huge city parking lot, but that's not true, not during the daytime when it is really employee parking for the Social Services Department, Westelcom, and the several other businesses on Durkee Street, Bridge Street and City Hall Place.

I know a guy who got a parking ticket two weeks because he hurriedly parked in the "taxi stand" in front of Trinity Park. He had to make a business dropoff at a downtown bank. When he got back he was nailed with a parking ticket because that area is "reserved" for taxis.

Guess what? I have checked that spot randomly for the past ten days and not once have I seen a taxi parked there! Couldn't that area be temporarily re-assigned as "general parking" during our construction parking crunch? Couldn't our city's parking officer be a bit more understanding and issue a "warning" until parking isn't such an issue for those who have to do business daily at a downtown bank?

Our City Fathers have asked us all to be patient while we drive the Margaret Street obstacle course. As I sit and wait for dump trucks to navigate the course, and for the diligent flagwomen to drop that orange flag and wave me on, I am patient. I use the time to sit in my car and think about all the good things about my city, Plattsburgh.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This was quite a weekend. The weather was great, almost too great for watching football. Covering football games for public-access television is a lot of fun for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the people we get to talk with at the games.

On Friday night Goose and I wore shortsleeves and covered the Indian River at Plattsburgh High School football game. Everyone knew that Indian River was favored to win. Heavily favored. They are a Class A school from the Watertown area and a big crowd showed up to watch the elite of the Northern Football Conference. The Warriors didn't disappoint. With two speedy running backs, named Ricks and Duke, they were hard to catch. When they turned the corner, they disappeared. The Hornets defense was trying to catch guys who will be running backs at Rutgers or Holy Cross in two years.

We were proud of the Hornet players, who didn't give up, who kept playing hard, who kept their composure, and who moved the ball against a big, tough defense. The Hornets put up yardage, but couldn't get it into the end zone.

Then on Saturday night Goose and I met at Penfield Park for the Lake City Stars game against their first-place rival, the Vermont Ice Storm. It was nice to see Doug Perez, who coached the Plattsburgh North Stars back in 1993 and 1994, and Mike LaBarre, who put so many years in the red, white and blue of the Stars that we called him "Mr. North Star." And Scott Aguglia from Beekmantown coaches for the Ice Storm. And many former Star players were wearing the Vermont colors, including Troy "The Jet" Canada, one of the Stars' all-time greats. Troy must be 45 years old by now but he can still run down the field, catch a pass and outrace the defenders. He proved it Saturday night.

Vermont took a 27-3 lead at one point, but that didn't take the fight out of the Lake City team. They battled back and going into the final quarter they were down by a touchdown. The game was up for grabs. Just the kind of game that Goose and I were hoping for.

Our third quarter guest in our press box was Sean "The Cow" Sulikowski, who was a great lineman for the Plattsburgh North Stars in the mid-1990s. He was huge in those days -- 6' 7" and 305 pounds. But he wasn't the biggest Stars' lineman! Sean reminded us of Bob "Bones" Jones, who was 6' 10" and weighed about 350.

On Sunday morning I was still hungry for football, so I hired videographer Tony Hollop and we headed out for a PAL football game. The Dolphins vs. the Patriots in the tackle A division, which is mostly eleven and twelve year olds. The PAL football program builds the future stars of the Northern Football Conference. The program was so popular that most areas now have their own teams, from Ausable to Saranac Lake to Moriah. We saw some outstanding plays and some hits and tackles worthy of a high school game.

But I wasn't done for my weekend. I topped it off with the Fiddlers Meet in Redford. Have you ever heard of the Saranac Fiddlers? If you love music, especially fiddling, you want to check this group out. They play every Wednesday night at the Saranac Town Hall, but today's Fiddlers Meet was at the Assumption of Mary School in Redford. And fiddle they did! For five hours! Local favorites like Donnie Perkins and Reggie Miller and Fred Warner were backed by guys like Earl Southmayd and there was dancing and foot stomping all afternoon. Guest fiddlers from Chateaugay and Troy and Westville and Saranac Lake took turns entertaining the big crowd.

Florence Collins, the lovely lady that she is, had told me about it, and I hope I'm invited back next year. From footballs to fiddles, with the beautiful weather and friendly North Country people, I had a whale of time this weekend. Only problem is I can't get the sound of "Turkey in the Straw" out of my head!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm a baseball fan. Have been since I was about four and my Dad tossed me a tennis ball to hit and I lined a shot off his forehead. Specifically, I'm a National League fan. Have been since 1955 when Johnny Podres won Game 7 of the World Series for the Brooklyn Dodgers and my grandfather dressed up like a Brooklyn Bum and spent a few happy days walking the streets of Plattsburgh and Rouses Point.

But I do follow the American League, mostly for the fun of cheering against the Yankees, and for the pleasure I get cutting off John Sterling on the radio in the middle of his "The Yankees Win! Theeeeeeeeeeee Yankees Win!" routine.

An interesting debate has come up as to who should be the American League's Most Valuable Player. Most baseball analysts throw four players into the mix: Jermaine Dye of the Chicago White Sox, Derek Jeter of the New York Yankees, Justin Morneau of the Minnesota Twins and David Ortiz of the Boston Red Sox.

Now the casual fans may not have even heard of Dye and Morneau. Both are having their best seasons and making major headlines for the first time. Jeter and Ortiz are familiar names, mostly because they are veteran players and they compete against each other in that great Yankees-Red Sox rivalry which gets featured on national television every series.

With about two weeks remaining in the 2006 season here are the players' vital stats:

Dye - .323 batting average, 41 home runs, 114 RBI, 94 runs scored, 160 hits
Jeter - .345 batting average, 13 home runs, 92 RBI, 104 runs scored, 193 hits
Morneau - .325 batting average, 33 home runs, 120 RBI, 85 runs scored, 169 hits
Ortiz - .283 batting average, 48 home runs, 127 RBI, 103 runs scored, 145 hits

Now you have to remember the Most Valuable Player Award implies that you were valuable to your team in helping them win games, reach post-season and move on to the World Series. It's not called the Best Player Award or the Biggest Numbers Award. On that alone I give Ortiz the quick boot because the Red Sox won't get to post-season play this year. I don't care if he hits 60 home runs, it's no Big Pappi after October 1st. The White Sox and Twins are in the wild card battle at this point, so they may get extra play in October.

Both players are about 20 points behind Jeter in the batting average category, but both, being power hitters, far outnumber Jeter in the home run category. If you add up ribbies and runs scored for the remaining three, they all come out about even, especially considering that Jeter usually bats second and the other pair bat further down with more RBI opportunities.

Jeter has many more hits, but I'd rather look at the stat for hitting with runners in scoring position. Did you come up with the big hit or not? Jeter is hitting an incredible .396 with runners at second and/or third. Dye is a dandy .356 and Morneau is at .333. In case you are wondering, Ortiz hits .291 with runners in scoring position thus far this season.

Plus, Jeter plays a skill position, shortstop. Dye patrols the outfield and Morneau plays first base. If you didn't get my drift yet, I say Derek Jeter should be the American League's MVP. As a Yankee hater since '55 it isn't easy to admit. I have never liked Derek Jeter. He always had that little grin, even when he got called out on strikes or booted a grounder, as if he knew that it was really somebody else's fault.

Oh, my Mom loves Derek Jeter. She has his picture on the wall next to her computer. Goose loves Derek Jeter. Goose says that Jeter grin is because he just always enjoys playing baseball. I suppose I'd grin a little too if about five thousand girls showed up at my work wishing they could date me, and screamed at me, "Oh, Foxy, Foxy!"

But I've watched Jeter play many games on that darn YES Network. And, time after time this season, when I'd be cheering for him to strike out, he'd bloop a single to right field or foul off fifteen pitches and then kiss a line drive up the middle to give the Yankees the lead. And he'd be on first base with that little grin, while I reached for the remote to shut the game off.

You heard it here first, folks. The American League's Most Valuable Player is Derek Jeter. Jeter Wins! Jeeeeeeeeeeter Wins!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 12:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Yesterday we went to the polls to vote on Primary Day. The turnout was disappointing to me. Can it be that only 953 Republicans had time to vote on who their candidate would be for our city's mayor? You can add in some of the other 170 absentee ballots, which may be divided between Republican and Democratic voters, and you have around 1000 Republicans in our fair city who found time to cast a ballot.

I knew the battle for the Republican nod would be close. I've never been one to make political predictions, and whenever I was asked about the upcoming vote my standard reply was, "I think it will be very close." At the present time with Don Kasprzak ahead of Mike Drew by 109 votes, it looks at though Donnie K will challenge the Democrat's candidate, Kevin Duniho, for the big chair in the Common Council chambers.

Primary Day morning was my every-other-week talk with Corm and the Coach on Champ 101.3 FM radio. Corm asked me about the outcome and I volleyed his question with my standard "close" reply. However, at the end of the ten-minute discussion, the smooth-talking Corm, veteran interrogator that he is, asked me for a prediction on the mayoral primary. "Kasprzak will win it in a close one," I predicted. I wish I'd been as good at picking the horses at Saratoga last month. I don't think I'm ready to challenge Jeanne Dixon or Karnack the Magnificent in the prognostication category, but I did call that one right. I just wish more people in the city would have cared.

I hope that this setback won't turn Mike Drew away from the political arena. He has been a great representative of the Ward One residents, and he is young enough to serve the city for many years. I think he has a lot to offer, and, remember, whoever wins this year's November race will serve the one year left behind by Mayor Dan and then have to run all over again. Drew could be back, because we know there are at least 422 Republicans who say, "I like Mike."

I think the most interesting voter results on Primary Day came out of Beekmantown where Susan Castine defeated Conway Gagnier by a count of 5 to 2 for the town justice spot on the Independent and Conservative lines. Was something else going on in Beekmantown yesterday to prevent more residents from voting? Or, perhaps there are only 7 enrolled in the Independent Party and Conservative Party in Beekmantown. Still, Conway can tell his buddies that he only lost by three.

So now it's on to November. Good luck to all the candidates, and we'll be watching!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Everyone once in a while I get the craving for salsa and chips. I don't mean out of some jar. I mean real homemade salsa and chips, and you just can't get it anymore. Not the kind that Jay used to make when he operated The Tijuana Jail restaurant.

There was a time when that was my regular Thursday night dining spot. I miss the Jail a lot. I miss Steve behind the bar and even though I've never been a big beer drinker it seemed like nothing went better with a pitcher of beer than Jay's salsa and chips ... and an order of nachos and refried beans with jalapeno peppers sitting atop all that melted cheese.

Oh, I'd give up my best Steve Garvey baseball card to be able to relive some of the great times I had at the Tijuana Jail. Being greeted by Doris and then getting that complimentary bowl of salsa and chips. Nobody, and I mean nobody, can top Jay's secret recipe.

Did you ever sit in Solataire? Remember the little booth adjacent to the bar area, where they could close the jailcell door and leave you inside with a plateful of Mexican food and your favorite beverage? That was my Mom's favorite place to sit. I can't tell you how many hours the Gagnon family logged in Solataire. But I sure miss it!

The Tijuana Jail is where I first met Caroline and Heather, waitresses who later became my colleagues at Stafford Middle School. At the time the Jail probably had more regular customers than any other restaurant in the North Country. All the food was homemade, no frozen packaged dinners here, and it was the closest most of us would ever get to real Mexican food.

The Titherington family bought the building when the Jail closed its doors several years ago. They remodeled the inside and it became Geoffrey's Pub, a great place to meet, drink and dine.

But I've been craving Jay's salsa lately. I wonder if he still makes it once in awhile, just for family ... or for friends ... or for old customers ... or for certain website bloggers. I'd give up my Pancho Herrera rookie baseball card for just one more bowl of the Jail's salsa and chips.

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 4:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

In 1963 Marvin Gaye's hit song "Hitch Hiker" led to a short-lived dance craze called the Hitchhike. I was 15 then and I remember this well. Dancing in the Our Lady of Victory church basement, the records playing and a bunch of us Fox Hill teenagers thinking we were all that.

I thought I was a pretty good dancer in those days, although, as I look back on it now, that point would be pretty debateable. But the Hitchhike was pretty easy to do. Right thumb up in the air, like you were really hitchhiking, throw your thumb up three times, clap your hands, and then do the same with the left thumb. Back and forth, right thumb, left thumb, all the while moving your hips and legs to the music.

I think I could still do a pretty mean Hitchhike if someone put me up to it. I can recall two other hitchhiking songs. In 1970 Vanity Fare had the hit "Hitchin' A Ride," and a year later Creedence Clearwater Revival sang about "Sweet Hitchhiker." Oh, I like that one : "...saw a slight distraction standin' by the road - she was smilin' there, yellow in her hair..."

As popular as the songs and dances were I was told by my parents early in my life, "Don't ever hitchhike." It was against my parents' rules, so, being the good boy that I was, I never hitchhiked. My Dad told me many times, "If you live under this roof, you follow my rules!" I followed his rules better than the Ten Commandments!

But I knew a lot of people who did hitch hike. Back in the Sixties it was a common sight along Route 3. Now this is back in the old days before it was filled with businesses. There were a few along the area that is now the home of McDonald's and P&C and Wendy's and Consumer Square. I remember the drive-in theater out that way, although I can't remember if that was the Stardust or the Plattsburgh Drive-In. But that's food for another blog, anyway.

It was common, though, to see high school boys hitchhiking home around six or seven each night. Just ask some of the former St. John's Academy boys about that. You see, Barry Branon, the coach and guru of St. John's, had a knack for getting boys from the Saranac and Dannemora areas to travel to Plattsburgh to play sports. And there were some good ones through the years. My friend Willie "You Can Him Bill" Watson could make a long list, I'll bet.

Nevertheless, hitchhiking in those days was a common event. Drivers were often pulling over to pick up a needy fellow or, even, female at times. Somewhere, somehow, through the years it became illegal, apparantly, to hitchhike. It went from a common event in the Sixties to just about non-existent thirty or so years later.

Alright, I will admit I did hitchhike twice in my life, but I was not in high school. One day when I was in college at Plattsburgh State, my car broke down. I had to get home and it was the coldest day of the year. I didn't wear gloves, I had books to carry, but my father's words echoed in my head. I decided to walk from Hawkins Hall to my home on Johnson Avenue. Only a few miles. But by the time I reached South Catherine Street, my toes and fingers felt frost-bitten. I figured that my life was in danger. So, I stepped on the road and stuck out my right thumb. All the while I walked backwards (remember that move?). Finally, near the Altamont a car stopped. It was Father Aubin, the priest from OLV. He gave me a ride home, lecturing me the entire time about the dangers of hitchhiking.

The second time was a much longer journey. I was pledging Pi Alpha Nu fraternity and one weekend my task was to hitchhike to Schenectady and get brother Bill Efner's autograph on a piece of paper. You see, Bill had gone home to visit his parents for the weekend. With fellow pledge Rodger White with me, I got a ride to exit 36 of the Northway. Standing by the side of the Route 87, we stuck out our right thumbs. Within minutes we had a ride. It was a couple of wild maniac 30-year-old guys from Montreal, headed to New York City. They drove too fast, cursed too much and scared the heck out me. My Dad's words echoed in my head the entire time, until around Pottersville, when they stopped for a lady and young girl by the side of the road with a flat tire.

The two females were glad to see four strong men offer help. As I recall, the Montreal guys changed the tire while Rodger and I flirted with the young girl and her mom. We found out they were from Albany. We quietly asked the lady if she would rescue us and give us a ride the rest of the way. They agreed. And within hours Rodger and I were knocking on brother Bill's door.

I write about this because a few days ago I turned off the Northway at Exit 34, the Keeseville exit, and I saw a girl hitchhiking. She was maybe twenty, in one of those gauze-type hippie, flowerchild dresses and a denim jacket. She held a sign that said, "NY City." It provided a quick flashback to the Sixties. A common sight at one time, but a shocker to see today. I wanted to turn my car around and go talk with her. I wanted to give her the same warnings that my father had given me about forty years ago. But I didn't.

I wonder whatever happened to that girl?

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 9:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

The Northern Football Conference played the first games of the 2006 season on Friday night and Saturday afternoon. For any of us who played high school football in the North Country this is a great time of year. No matter the weather, although I prefer sunshine, watching high school football games brings back great memories.

I was far from a football star. Coach John Flynn tried me at quarterback as a freshman, but I was too short to see over the linemen. I pretty much had to hand off or do a quarterback sneak. Once in awhile he would let me run a bootleg. I didn't play much quarterback anyway because the Foxes' starting quarterback was senior Carl King, one of the best overall athletes the North Country has ever seen.

Carl's passes that year, especially long bombs to senior wide receiver Terry Polhemus, brought us the championship. I scored one touchdown as a freshman, on a quarterback sneak in the closing minutes of a home game. I spent my next two seasons as a wide receiver, doing a lot of running downfield, but only catching a few passes. My best high school football game was in my junior year against Ausable Forks High School, when I caught two touchdown passes from senior QB Sid Forgette.

Goose was the football star in our family. He played at Our Lady of Victory Academy for two years and then, with the closing of OLVA in the works, he transferred, as did several football players from Fox Hill, to St. John's Academy. Goose had two great seasons as a running back for the Irish. He was the team's workhorse his senior year and was one of the Champlain Valley League's best. Ask Goose about a particular high school football game and he can tell you the score, the weather that day, who scored the touchdowns and who the cheerleaders were.

So yesterday when Goose and I met at Beekmantown Central for our first week of television coverage with North Country Cable Network, we were excited. We look forward each year to the opening weekend of high school football. The weather was perfect, not too hot, not too cold, our view was perfect, from the top of the Eagles Press Box and Goose and I were both in a football mood.

Prior to game time I had a chance to talk with Ducky Drake and Rob Knowles, who were covering the game for WIRY Radio. And it's always great to see the North Country's sports trivia master, Craig Mathews, who is the public-address announcer. Later he announced that Foxy and Goose were covering the game, and "they will be available after the game to sign autographs and pose for pictures. We just ask that you not use those pictures to scare young children." Craig sure is funny! Someday I'll get even with him! But I hope he uses that line in a few weeks when we are back in Beekmantown.

With Tony Hollop on camera doing all the work, Goose and I watched Saranac Lake take an early lead on a punt return for a touchdown by Thomas, you can call him Tom, Vossler. He ran it back something like 80 yards and it didn't even tire him out. Later in the game he intercepted passes, made diving one-handed catches and seemed like he was ready to be drafted by some NFL team.

Both teams did some things well, and both teams showed signs that it was just the first week of the season. We predict that both teams will improve greatly as the season moves along. What mattered to us is that Goose and I were having a ball. It was football season once again. We will meet at a football field each weekend and talk football, recall high school football in the Sixties, give lectures about tackling the ball carrier low and not getting unsportsmanlike penalties.

I hope to see you at a high school football game. Come over and say hello. Tell me that you read this blog, or watched the game on Charter Cable Channel 15. There is nothing like playing high school football. It will bring lasting memories. And there's nothing like watching high school football, the all-out effort given by every player. I can guarantee that you will enjoy the game!

Posted by Foxy Gagnon at 6:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)