My first football game under the big lights took place on Curtiss Street in Ames, Iowa.
It was Irene and Vern’s bridge night across town. Big brother Eddie had a master plan. I was about seven but “very gifted” for my age. Eddie told me to collect every lamp in the house and bring them out to the front yard. Eddie started collecting electrical cords from our house and the neighborhood’s open garages.
Within an hour, a lighted football field was in place. The yard lines were marked by three cans of my father’s shaving cream. The most talented kids from blocks around were chosen for action. Other kids lined the field to create a growing crowd of spectators. Billy Wilson provided play-by-play broadcasting using his sister’s hairbrush as a microphone.
The game was cut short – but not before the living room floor lamp crashed to the turf and my mom’s favorite table lamp fell prey to an errant pass. An older couple across the street squealed on us.
Irene and Vern arrived about the same time as Officer Flynn. The field went dark.
At 76, the memory still makes me smile.