Is "squiggly" an actual word, or did some kindergartner say it one day and it just stuck?
TigerBlog likes to walk near the river, something he was doing the other day. He used to play lunchtime basketball and then lunchtime squash in Jadwin Gym; these days he hopes to average10,000 steps a day.
Having written that, he fully expects to hear from his friend and colleague Warren Croxton, who will point out that he averages half a million steps a day or something like that.
A few of those steps the other day took him past a group of people who were fishing along the canal, including one seemingly teenage boy who had a shoebox with a sign that said "Squiggly Worms" on it.
TB isn't sure if he was selling them or simply giving them away. He only asked the boy one question, and it didn't really have anything to do with fishing: "Aren't all worms squiggly?"
The response? A confused look.
TB, by the way, has next-to-no experience fishing — and even less actually catching fish. In fact, all of his fish-catching moments have occurred with John McPhee there, and it's possible that Mr. McPhee and the fish were in on it together to make TB feel better.
Miss TigerBlog ’22 caught a fish when she was 3 by feeling the bite on the hook, screaming and turning and running the other way, dragging the fish out of the water and across a bunch of rocks.Here's the before picture (it's one of TB's favorites):
The poor fish. You can see the rocks.
Back when that picture was taken, Ivy League football media day was still an in-person thing in Connecticut, as TB mentioned yesterday, after this year's latest conference call edition Monday. it got TB to thinking about some of the media members who used to be regulars there, some of whom are now gone.
One was Bill Wallace, who passed away 14 years ago yesterday, at the age of 88. Wallace, Yale Class of 1945, covered everything big in the world of sports for the New York Times in his nearly 40 years there, including the New York Giants football team, the Americas Cup yacht racing and boxing. He famously wrote about a certain boxer for the paper in a story that ran on June 20, 1963. TB didn't read it then, since he was, you know, an infant.
Included was this:
Cassius Clay, the heavyweight fighter home from his conquest of England, was beyond containing yesterday on arrival at Idlewild Airport. Clay acknowledged his knockout of Henry Cooper, the British Empire champion, in London on Tuesday night as just another tour de force and then he proposed a money fight to dwarf all others. Clay said he was ready to fight Sonny Liston, the world champion.
In case you don't know, Cassius Clay became Muhammad Ali and Idlewild Airport became Kennedy Airport. Oh, and Clay obliterated Liston to become the heavyweight champ for the first time, proclaiming beforehand that Liston was "too ugly to be the champ" and "I'm a pretty man."
In addition to everything else, Wallace covered Ivy League football for four decades. He was nearing the end of his career when TB first came along, and he was something of a legend in Ivy pressboxes (Wallace, not TB).
TB remembers one Ivy football media day when the league brought in the head of officials to discuss rules changes for that year. To be fair for what happened next, the ref was droning on a bit about, if TB remembers correctly, rules about towels that could be worn on the pants of quarterbacks and other skill players.
From where he was sitting, TB could see clearly what was coming next. His old mentor Harvey Yavener was growing impatient because he wanted to get into the meat of the questioning with the coaches, not listen to some official talk about minutia. And Yav, bless his late heart, didn't do impatience well.
"Can you speed this up," Yav said briskly.
"This is interesting stuff," Wallace countered, equally as briskly.
For a second, TB thought the two sportswriters, both in the 5-5 range, were going to come to blows. All TB could do was smile. Perhaps if the cellphone camera existed back then, TB could have recorded it. Alas, nobody had a phone at the time, so TB has to rely on his memory. Then again, his memory is strong because he got to be in the moment and not buried in his phone because an Eastern college football ref was being long-winded.
Anyway, those days are gone, and TB understands why.
It's just that there was something pretty special about those days too, and TB is glad he got to be a part of it.



