I was 10 the first time I was kind of introduced to futball. A kid whose family was in the military I think said soccer was the greatest game ever and wanted to teach us to play. We were in the process of deciding between a tackle football game or basketball and couldn’t decide.
A ball was rolled out so somebody tried to see how it would bounce and asked if we were going to play volley ball. No it was soccer and then a description was given of what off sides was and what a goalie could do and … we could not find a suitable goal area so we decided to play a bit of kill the man with the football known a bit more colloquially as smear the queer, can you say that any more, I know back then we did not know any other definition than the one that meant unusual or peculiar? Anyway the soccer pro declined the polite invite extended to join in or to paly basketball with us afterwards and that was that.
That was the same year I learned how to prime bacca. I remember that I was as wet that morning when we primed those sand lugs as I was in the afternoon. At the end of the first row I was soaked with dew at the end of the last row that afternoon it was sweat. That first week I primed bacca all night long too.
The guy used a mule to haul his trucks and I learned to hate that mule cause it only stopped at the end of each row. The next year I was told my legs were long enough to hang a stick barn so I split my time between the two. That year for him it was load up all of the trucks with bacca then go to the barn and hang it. Same crew for both jobs but others I worked for had two separate crews.
I thought how strange to walk out of that barn and it actually feel slightly cooler in the 98 degree in the shade temps. RC cola and a moon pie for breaks and noon meals in the yard provided by the missus. Was glad to break that stalk off from the last field and stick it up like a flag in that last truck after we stripped that last plant.
