In 1960 the Yale Varsity Football team went undefeated and untied. I saw every game. That year in a quirk of scheduling every game was played in the Bowl save the final game at Harvard (which my Dad took me to).
Our house on Alston Ave. was a mere 5 blocks from the Bowl… it was a distance that was easily walked — not only did I walk it; but other folks (strangers) would park their cars in front of our house and walk there, too. Our path took us down Chapel St. where we would pass several homes that offered front yards that would be turned into impromptu for-a-fee mini-parking lots.
I can remember almost all of the members of the 1960 starting line-up… but I won’t bore you with that detail. But what a team. What a year. I was ten.
Fall Saturday’s were special then. The games began at 2:00PM (1:00PM after the switch from Daylight Savings Time), and I couldn’t wait to get to the game. I would arrive a full hour before the kick-off and head to Portal 26. Although marginally on the opposing side of the Bowl, it provided welcoming sun on chilly Autumn afternoons. Because I arrived so early, I was always assured of the same seat: first row below portal level, on the aisle, on the left — no one to obstruct my view.
I would get situated… read thru the program, check-out the pre-game drills, look for the familiar faces in the section & commune with the other “regulars”… other devotees of Bulldog Football.
No… this was not South Bend nor Ann Arbor. But to me I felt that I was in the High Temple of Sport: The Yale Bowl.
What is more, I had $2 left in my pocket 0f the $5 my mother staked me to (having spent $2 for the General Admission ticket and $1 for a program). And that would cover two hot dogs, a coke during the game and a bag of peanuts on the way home (with 50 cents to spare).
Oh yes… I would look forward to this. The texture of the day. Leaves down from the trees and dry under foot… easy to kick up on the way to the game. The smell of roasted peanuts from the vendor at the corner of Chapel & West Rock Ave. floated in the air. The station wagons parked on the grass just inside the gates on the Chapel St side of the Bowl. These “tailgaters” held court. Straw hampers brimming with food. Men in Harris tweed sport coats & flannels, women in tartan skirts, Shetland sweaters, camel’s hair polo coats & sporting fresh mums in their lapels, hair held in place by tortoise shell hair bands. Laughter and good fellowship over flowing, cheeks flushed red to the fall air and to the Bloody Mary’s that fueled their merriment.
The game? Well, as I say, Yale went undefeated and untied. Tom Singleton at QB, All-American Ben Balme at guard & Captain Mike Pyle at tackle (he went on to become an All Pro Center for the Chicago Bears). Wow!
The walks home in the late afternoon with dusk just around the bend seemed sweeter after each victory. I would run up Chapel St. from McKinley Ave. to my house.
Back home on Alston Ave. it would be time to take out my football, take to the street with friends ’til it was too dark to see. We would fill the sky with footballs, run the pass patterns, re-live the glory and dream of future victories.
All on a beautiful Fall Saturday. How could it be better?