This just in from my Mom in P-town:
At least it was close to home! [She’s talking about the Carrera de San Rafael.] Reminds me of my first venture into a major collegiate ski giant slalom on Whistler Mountain, . [This is in the 50’s, folks.] During practice I took a horrible fall, and was lucky to walk away. The organizers shortened the course just because of that. The major players were some Olympians for who skied for . The levels were far different! And I wasn’t last. –xoxoxo
See, I knew this already. I read my Boppy’s race report. Digging through old photos at my Grandma’s house, I had come across a carbon copy of a letter he’d written to someone back east who was compiling our family history. Boppy was giving them an update of our branch. The funny thing is, he included details that didn’t necessarily pertain to our pedigree, but revolved around his and others’ sporting endeavors. Take the botched Statue of Liberty Play during the Hampton versus Lincoln, Nebraska, football game of 1921, for instance.
“What a track meet,” he wrote. “We lost 98-0.”
He then went on to describe the infamous Statue of Liberty Play. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but it resulted in my Boppy scoring what he believed to be a 98 yard touchdown, which would have been the only one of the game, had he not stepped out of bounds two yards into it. They’d never seen boundary lines before in Hampton, Nebraska.
Then he went on to describe my mother’s try at making the Olympic team — an exageration, according to my mom — in downhill skiing in 1956. Unfortunately, she suffered a terrible fall and slid down the mountain on her rear, skis askew.
I read this letter out loud at a family dinner, a few years after Boppy passed away. We never laughed and cried so hard.
I race to so I can write race reports, just like my Boppy.