Doc Does Jersey City

Hello everyone. It's The Mountain Cat.

My good buddy and our blog-master Doc came to visit me on my birthday in Jersey City on Wednesday, April 7th. We hadn't seen each other since last July. Now normally when we get together, craziness abounds. But I guess in our old age we don't have the energy. However we did have a great time and I will now try to spin the events of the evening into something that will entertain you.

The evening started at 5:30 when I met Doc in Manhattan in midtown after he took the bus in from his in-laws in East Long Island. My girlfriend Jackie met us there as well. We then hoped on the packed 6 train going downtown to transfer to Jersey City. Once in Jersey City, we enjoyed a walk along the Hudson River where Doc unveiled his birthday gift to me: A can of Food Lion's Mountain Lion soda. (Pictured with the two of us). What a surprise! It tastes like Mountain Dew but I will save the can forever.

Then the three of us went to Maker's Harborside Restaurant and met my friends Xavier and Kelly. We all ordered burgers, drank, watched the Yankee game, drank, watched the Ranger game, drank and got progressively louder. It was a perfect storm of all of our outgoing personalities. Around 9:00 we stumbled out of Marker's to meet my friend Joe at The Zeppelin Hall Beirgarten. Xavier and Kelly decided to call it a night and left, separately, and it just was Doc, Jackie and myself. We hailed a taxi to the biergarten. Joe was waiting inside patiently. Now the story gets slightly interesting. We ordered beers but the bartender looked frazzled. We think he was on drugs. He took forever to get us our beers. Finally we got ours except for Joe. We paid and waited for Joe. Finally Joe got his massive 25 ounce beer but the bartender walked away but didn't charge Joe. So he got his drink for free. I guess having a stoned bartender has it's advantages. Then we walked out to the garden area, sat on a bench and just enjoyed the great weather. After about a half hour we finished our beers and wanted to get more. Doc went inside for 15 minutes and returned empty handed. He could not get the stoned bartender's attention. It wasn't even busy at the bar! Doc was pissed. That was apparently our cue to leave and hop to the next bar.

We walked about 10 blocks to the train where Jackie was getting tired and bid farewell. So Doc, Joe and I went to the Hard Grove Cafe for a couple of Coronas each. We talked music, people watched, told jokes and acted crude since no women were no longer with us. Typical guy stuff. After about an hour and half we were beat after seven or eight drinks in five hours. We bid Joe farewell. Shane and I split a pastrami sandwich and a taxi back to my place and he crashed on the couch.

The next morning, we trained it back to Manhattan where Shane had to catch the train back to Long Island and I had to go to work. I pointed my friend in the direction of Penn Station, gave each other a bro-hug and parted our separate ways.

I am so glad Doc and I got to hang out in my town and met some of my friends. I wish he could have stayed longer but it was a very memorable night. Thanks again Doc! Lets hang out more often.

Your friend,

The Mountain Cat

Mt. Cat Has his own Soda !!

Back before Christmas I was in our local Food Lion grocery store picking up a few things to fix the family dinner and happened to wander down the soda isle and that is when I saw it. There it was. Mountain Lion Soda! I was transfixed because I can finally say that my life is complete. I know someone who has their own soda. Not only that but it's one of my best friend's in the world and fellow sometimes blog mate the Mt. Cat. Yeah so what if it is a cheap generic knock off of 'The Dew' and he has never actually tasted it's sweet Yellow #5 infused high fructosey goodness? HE STILL HAS HIS OWN SODA (and no it's not Pop - See it even says so on the side of the box)

Those who have been reading here for awhile know that the nickname Mt. Cat came as a shortened version of his real last name which literally translated to English from Italian means "Mountain Lion. " (It became Mt. Cat because Mountain Lion was too long to fit on a license plate... no really I'm serious)

After this revelation I had to purchase some. $1.77 for a 12 pack, hey it's worth it! I called said Mt. Cat and informed him that he had his own soda. He was quite jealous as I drank this nectar of the gods while he thirstily listened on the other end of the phone smacking his parched lips. "So what does it taste like?"

"Ummm well it kinda tastes like a metallic version of Mountain Dew." I reply. "Here's what you do. Go buy a Mountain Dew and then bite down on a penny just before taking a gulp!" He was less than impressed but that doesn't change his elation that regardless of quality has still his own soda. Does A-Rod have his own soda? No. How about Brad Pitt or even Barack Obama? Heck no... You have to be some kind of special to rate your own soda. (Even if you can't buy it where you live). I bet none of you have your own soda... The closest I come is a knock off brand of Dr. Pepper called Dr. Perky... ummm I don't think so.

Go grab some Mountain Lion and enjoy!

-Doc

The Mountain Cat's 'Dog Gone' Birth

My birth and the subsequent aftermath have become folklore in my family. Some of the details of this legend are vague based on my parents' recollections. It all started sometime in July 1971. My parents were on the way to Canada or already in Canada or on their way back from Canada. Allegedly they got into some sort of car accident and were forced to stay overnight in some roadside motel. I can imagine it was the type of seedy motel that propagates romance and other illegal activities for the frequent traveler. Consequently, nine months later on April 7, 1972, Vince was born.

I don't recall how I learned about this story, I believe that I quizzed my parents once in my adulthood about the events that led up to my nativity. Not that I'm a pervert mind you, but somehow we got on this topic one day. Over the years since then, my mother has recanted her original story and amended; 'No Vin, I was actually pregnant with you when we got into that car accident.' If this fact is accurate, it may explain some of my mental deficiencies due to a bump on my head that I suffered when my mom hit her womb against the passenger side dashboard. Those of you who know me well enough know that my personality is slightly 'left of center' to describe it modestly.

Anyway, over the years I have often given my parents mock guilt that I was an unplanned child. My mom always give me the same response: 'Well none of your sisters were planned either, Vin. So don't feel bad.' My two sisters are 11 and 12 years older than me which illustrates how unplanned my birth was!

Now at the time of my genesis, my parents had a French poodle named Jean-Pere. (Pictured below with my sisters in 1971). According to my father 'Jean-Pere was the best catcher he'd ever seen! He can catch any ball or any stick no matter how far or fast you threw it to him.' This fact has nothing to do with my story but it is a fascinating to me nevertheless. Unfortunately for me but certainly more for the dog, I never met Jean-Pere. My parents decided that they did not want Jean-Pere around their new infant. They were probably worried that poodle scent can deform a baby or something. I will have to research that someday to justify my parents' rationale. But the running gag all my life has been that my parents 'had to decide whether to keep me or dog'. Luckily my parents choose me instead of leaving me on some random doorstep or donating me to some refugee family in Chinatown.

Anyway I am saddened that I never got to meet the great Jean-Pere. My parents can't recall what happened to Jean-Pere. They most likely gave him away to a dog shelter where he stayed lonely and unwanted for several months before he was eventually euthanized. Mom and dad you should be ashamed of yourself! The blood is on your hands! Oh and I would have gladly co-existed with Jean-Pere. Come to think of it, I never had any pets growing up. Only goldfish. And goldfish are not affectionate plus they die too quickly to form any loving bond with them. What joy a dog, a cat or even a hamster would have brought to my life instead of the barren childhood that I led. (How's that for guilt?)

Yup, my mom was definitely pregnant with me at the time of the car accident.

-The Mountain Cat (aka Vince)


***Note: The poodle's name is pronounced 'Jon-pear'. It is French for 'John the Father' in case you were wondering. I don't know how he got the name Jean-Pere. According to my dad, they adopted him as a puppy and he already had the name.

Happy 20th Anniversay to Doc & The Mountain Cat. 1989-2009.

Two great friends that refuse to just give up...

The Night We Never Met

When I was a senior in high school I played football but also had a part time job as a bagger at a local supermarket. As it turns out the combination of these two things was the way that I ended up meeting ole Mt. Cat who ends up turning out to be one of my best lifelong friends. This is the story of how we met and how we sort of met before we ever met. It will make more sense as I tell it.

Friday night football is a huge tradition at our high school (West Charlotte Senior High) and back when we were there we were really good. My senior year we were undefeated conference champs. One thing you need to know about West Charlotte high is that although the school was very racially diverse historically it was known as an African American high school. It's located in a very prominent "black" part of town and has always been a source of pride in the black community. Especially the athletic teams and the marching band. No offense to the rest of ya'll bands but our band could JAM!

I tell you all this to set the stage for the picture of me on the football team. There were multiple white players on the team but we were in the minority. Certainly no problem there...may the best athlete play. However lets just say that I was one of very few white players on defense. There were actually like 2 of us. I was also not a starter, as a safety I played when the defense needed additional coverage for receivers and on special teams. My group of friends and classmates always used to sit together at games and sometimes they would call out things from the stands to show their support and encouragement for the team and my playing status. It was not at all unusual to hear things yelled from behind me during games such as "Hey Coach, Put the white boy in!" or "White boy....48 white boy 48" (my number) I prefer to think of them as just having a lot of school spirit and support for the team and not that they were making fun of me.

Enter Vince. (Mt. Cat) Now what you have to know about Vin at this point is that he is not from Charlotte, NC. Vin is from Brooklyn New York City and moved to Charlotte NC during the summer before his senior year of high school. I can't even imagine the culture shock he went through not just in terms of the difference in city but it was a big transition in school and just before his senior year. I guess that he didn't know very many people. He and I hadn't met. Heck there were probably 3000 students at our school. The only people that he knew were kids that he had met at his new job as a cashier at a grocery store. Yep you guessed it, the same grocery store that I worked at on the weekends.

OK, back to the football game. One Friday night early in that fall of 1989 Vince decides to check out the school football team and go to the game. I am sure that we were demolishing some poor opponent and so the mood in the stands was pretty good. As fate would have it Vince happens to find a large group of students to sit with that just happen to be acting as my own personal cheering section that night. So as he is sitting there hanging out watching the game apparently people are cheering things like "GO SHANE!!" " Way to go 48" and other very encouraging things just trying to keep up the school spirit. So curiosity gets the better of him and he asks the guy sitting next to him. "Who are they yelling for? Who is this Shane?" and the response that he gets is something along the lines of a drunken slurr "He'sssss numberrrr forty-eight. He'ssss the best playerrrrr" Vince then searches the field looking for this hero. This team leader who is helping the Lions crush their opponent. Is he scoring Touchdowns? Is he sacking the quarterback? Suddenly he spots the elusive 48. The one who makes the other students chant special things. And Vin then asks the million dollar question.... "Hey, If he's the best player then what is he doing on the bench?"

Fast forward to the weekend. I am going to my job at the grocery store where I usually clean up the back room and mop the floor... 25 times just to make sure it's clean. (and to get out of the real work) and I notice there is a new guy up front as a cashier. I ask Carol in the office who this new guy is and am told. "His name is Vinny. He is from New Yaak" OK fair enough. I go about my duties. Later when Vin goes to take his break I come in to introduce myself. The conversation went a little something like this:

"Hey, I'm Shane, I hear you are from New York. Cool. Hey where do you go to school?"
"I just started at West Charlotte."
"Cool I go there too... I play......football"
"Oh, so you're Shane!!??"
At this point I think that my reputation has exceeded me so I smile and get ready to enjoy my adoration as a football hero when Vin follows it up with, "So hey, why do you ride the bench?"

I guess my reputation did proceed me... Too well in fact.

I am still not sure how we got to be such good friends after the night we never met.

-Doc & The Mountain Cat

The new blog pic you guys requested

After much thoughtful discussion you guys informed us that we must get rid of the picture that we were using here on YJKOBT. So last Thursday when we were at Shea Stadium for the Mets game we decided to take a picture together for you guys. Here it is:


The following are a few of the rejected pictures that we decided not to use:

Somehow we both manage to look like like cast members from the Lord of the Rings in this picture

This picture is cute but Patrick is thinking 'why do I have to sit with these two chuckleheads?' so it got rejected.

And of course I had to share this picture... This picture proves that a 14 month old IS faster than both a Mountain Cat and a Shea Stadium sanitation worker.... LOL!

-Doc

Friday's Top Ten List

Happy Friday all. I want to try something different today. Would you like to know more personal information about us? Well here you go...

The Top Things You Didn't Know About Doc & The Mountain Cat

10. Doc's favorite president is Lyndon Baines Johnson. And coincidentally he once dated a girl named Lady Bird.

9. The Mountain Cat is a former a subway graffiti artist in the early 1980s.

8. Doc once had breakfast with Don Imus at the Lowe's Motor Speedway.

7. The Mountain Cat once got seven stitches up his nose after a freak garden fence accident.

6. Doc won employee of the month at the Hickory, NC Rockola Cafe in January 1994.

5. The Mountain Cat was conceived at Woodstock while his parents tripped on Peyote.

4. Doc has no sweet tooth. In fact, he prefers the taste of a grapefruit over a chocolate cake.

3. When The Mountain Cat was 8 years old, he saved his dog Timmy who fell down a well.

2. When Doc was eight he was actually part of the Super Bowl pregame show along with a bunch of other kids waving American flags Miami Florida in January 1979.

And the number one thing you did not know about Doc & The Mountain Cat is...

1. The Mountain Cat is a direct descendant of the once Roman Emperor Marcus Aureluis.

(Four of the above items really are true. Can you guess which ones?)

Hmmmm what else is there to know about the two of us?

- The Mountain Cat

The Cassette Tapes

You guys have heard Doc and I comment before about how the most random and bizarre things happen to us. Well here is a good example. the following story IS true. I will use our real names as it is essential for the story....

Shane (Doc) and I (Vin, The Mountain Cat) have always been into collecting music. Back in the day before CD burners and MP3, we both would make mixed cassette tapes of our favorite tunes. When we first became friends in Charlotte back in 1989, we would sometimes borrow each others music collection. I remember one particular time in school I lent Shane one of my Bad-Assed Mixed Tapes of popular tunes. I don’t recall what songs were on it, but trust me, if I made it, it was Bad-Assed!

Late morning on that Saturday, Shane and his father drove over to my house to hang out and meet my parents for the first time. They lived only a couple of miles from my house so it was convenient. Unfortunately, Shane’s mom could not come as she was running a yard sale at her home. My mom was out grocery shopping and running errands. So both our mom’s never ‘formally’ met. Shane and his dad relaxed on back porch for an hour or two and left after lunch. It was just a lazy sunny afternoon and I just relaxed around the house. My mom came home later that afternoon and called me to come to the kitchen.

‘Vin, I bought something for you’, my mom said, so I came downstairs. ‘I bought you a box of cassette tapes.’

I excitedly said thank you! I opened up the box to see about 10 various colored cassettes without their box covers.

As I rummaged though the box, one of the tapes looked very familiar.

‘Mom where did you get these tapes from?’, I asked.

‘From this woman having a yard sale near Old Concord Road for three dollars.’, she replied.

‘Old Concord Road?? Shane lives around there!’ At that time I pulled out one of the tapes and it was my Bad-Assed Mixed Tape!

‘Mom, this is my tape!’

Then I pulled out another tape that had ‘S. Little’ written on it (pictured below).

'Little? That’s Shane’s last name! Mom, these are Shane’s tapes! You bought these tapes from Shane’s mom!’

She essentially bought the tape that I lent to Shane for free!We were both in shock. What are the odds? This is just too surreal.

I called Shane to tell him this incredible series of events. At first he was amazed but then he got angry. Apparently, Shane had a box of stuff in his room that he wanted his mom to sell. However, she picked up the wrong box and sold his mixed tapes instead!

‘She didn’t sell what I wanted her to sell!!’, yelled Shane.

Later than evening after the drama died down, I listed to some of my new cassettes. One was an unmarked brown tape. I put it in the tape deck and pressed play. Then I heard Shane’s mom’s voice emanate from the tape reciting: ‘In the living room we have a one couch, two lamps, a radio, a TV, Encyclopedia Britannica…..’

What the heck?

The next morning I talked to Shane on the phone and asked him about the tape his mom made. He was still fuming over our moms’ transaction and said that his mom made that tape to record the inventory of their house possessions for insurance purposes just in case there was a fire. (Of course I didn’t ask why you would keep those tapes within a burning house. But that’s a question for another time).

‘Vin, can I have those tapes back please?', Shane asked.

‘No’, I said. ‘My mom bought me these fair and square.’ I may have returned the brown inventory tape only to his mom though.

To this day both our mom’s have not met each other.

Also to this day, Shane is still mad at me for not giving him his tapes back! I still have some of them. Ok, Shane, I will compromise, you can buy them off me for four dollars. What do you say? (I mean shouldn’t I make a profit?). Just kidding, Doc. In my defense I did burn several mixed CDs for Doc over the years to make up for it.

Epilogue:
My mom also bought this little porcelain trinket from Doc's mom that she still has:

- The Mountain Cat

The Birth of the Nickname Doc

OK, so Vin has been after me for months to tell the story about where my nickname came from so I figured it was time to share. Now don't get me wrong, its not as exciting or as creative at Mountain Cat but it will have to do. Now I could tell you as many people assume that the name came from one of my favorite movies "Tombstone" which featured a fantastic character named Doc Holiday, played by Val Kilmer. It would fit especially since I spent my college days hanging around with another of my best friends who is named Wyatt. But that's not how it actually happened so I better stick to the truth.

It all started (as everything does) with High School football. Now those of you who have been reading YJKOBT for awhile will remember that I was a super duper high school football hero years ago even if it was in my own mind. I suppose that every HS football player has that coach that they can't stand and who can't stand them. The coach who is always after you for even the slightest little thing. Well I certainly had such a coach and his name was "Coach O". He was my defensive backs coach and he was evil, mean spirited, and took great pleasure in torturing us daily. Even the head coach didn't like him and thought he was too hard on us. This guy was so mean that he wouldn't die, hell he was even bullet proof. This was proven my junior year when he was actually shot on the sidelines during a game but somehow survived to continue torturing us. He didn't even miss practice the following Monday after being let out of the hospital because he would have missed torturing us too much. If anything getting shot only made him meaner. Ask Vin if you don't believe me.

One day during football practice Coach O had the defensive backs including me run a specific coverage known as cover 2 during a drill against the first team offense where I ran the cover 2 and the rest of my teammates ran man-to-man coverage and of course the offense scored on us because of the busted coverage. Coach O was pissed off. He started screaming and yelling at me for being in the wrong place and allowing the offense to score. Well no one ever stood up to Coach O but this time he had gone to far. I was the only one who was in the right coverage and the other guys had run the coverage wrong but here I was getting yelled at. I snapped. I broke the cardinal rule, committed the big no-no and ripped of my helmet and yelled right back at Coach O that I WAS in the right coverage because he had called for "cover2" and my responsibility as free safety was the deep half. He paused surly about ready to rip my head off of my shoulders and drop kick it out of the stadium for daring to question him. It was one of those moments where time stops for an instant. You could have heard a pin drop. Someone had yelled back at Coach O. Uh oh... I was certainly in for it but something else happened instead.

All of a sudden Coach O whirled around almost seeming to be in slow motion and began pointing at the strong safety and cornerback. "He's right, he's right, you guys were all in the wrong place... He may not be the fastest thing on the field but he is a freaking genius, he is gonna be a doctor someday and all of you are going to be working for him!!" he chastised the other players mercilessly. Needless to say this new revelation from Coach O didn't go over too well with my more talented but less cerebral teammates who were now being berated double over the busted play when they thought they were in the clear. Good grief I heard mimicking of Coach O in the locker room the rest of the year. "He's gonna be a doctor. Ooooooh He's gonna be a doctor. You guys are gonna work for him" Yeesh I got sick of it them calling me Doc or Doctor over and over... However it was far better than what they had been calling me prior to that day which was Flash. Named after Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane's dog from the show "Dukes of Hazzard" so when they asked me in college what my nickname was in high school I chose to tell them Doc instead of Flash... It just kind of stuck. If you got a chance to pick you would done the same thing.

-Doc

Julie's Cat

One winter back in college, Doc and I were visiting some friends in Charlotte. My friend Julie, decided to have a get together at her apartment. So, we drove over to her place in the cold, pouring rain. When we arrived at Julie's, there was a total of 10 of us. We ordered some pizzas and we had all brought beer. So, we were set to have a real fun time and get lambasted. As the evening progressed the cold rain continued, the beer flowed, the pizza got devoured, the music blared and the cigarette smoke filled the whole apartment. Everyone there was smoking except little ol' me. I was the only one who was getting irritated by the smoke after a while. At least at the time I thought I was the only one. Like I said, it was cold out so there were no windows open. Therefore, the smoke in the living room became thicker and thicker. The only window open was the sliding door to Julie's back porch which was open barely an inch.

Little by little we all got trashed. We were laughing, acting stupid and making a big mess spilling beer and food all over the carpet. Julie, our host, drank too much as well and we sensed that she was getting very annoyed. At first she was mad because our dear Doc brought his handgun (A Sig Sauer 9 Millimeter) with him and was showing a couple of our friends its details. Doc of course took the clip out, but Julie still was none too happy. Meanwhile, Julie's boyfriend Charlie ran to the bathroom as he was about to throw up from all the alcohol, junk food and smog. Julie runs into the bathroom after him. At the same time, our friend Dave, (also nicknamed Otis after the town drunk from The Andy Griffith Show) passed out drunk on her couch. This was my opportunity to enact revenge on Dave-Otis as he had put shaving cream on my crotch when I passed out at a party a few months earlier. I knocked on the bathroom door to ask Julie if she had any shaving cream. She did not answer me.

Suddenly out of nowhere, Julie's cat crawls out of hiding. (I don't remember the cat's sex, color or name, but Julie's Cat is a good enough name for all intents and purposes). Julie's Cat wanted nothing to do with us. That darn cat was almost choking to death and feebly dragged itself over to the sliding door and stuck his/her left paw in between the small crack of the door and pushed it open a little more so he/she could stick his/her snout out to get some fresh air. This is where Doc and I lost it. We couldn't believe it! Oh, my God it was the most hilarious thing we ever saw. At one point, it appeared that Julie's Cat looked back at Doc and me, shook its head in disapproval and turned back to breathe again. The two of us turned so red from laughter. No one else in the apartment saw what the cat had done. No one knew why we were rolling on the floor laughing our asses off.

After the laughter died down, I had to go to the bathroom. But it was still occupied by Julie and Charlie. My friend Mike and I were going to find a couple of bushes outside in lieu of the in-house facilities. I opened the front door and then like a flash of lightning, Julie's Cat ran underneath our legs and ran outside!

'Free at last! Free AT last!', Julie's Cat probably thought to his/herself.

But uh-oh we have to find him/her before Julie finds out....Too late. Julie came out of the bathroom and found out I accidentally let the cat out of the...ah...pad. At this point Julie had had enough. She began to scream at the top of her lungs the following diatribe:

'GODDAMN IT EVERYONE I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I INVITE YOU ALL OVER TO MY APARTMENT AND THE PLACE IS NOW A FUCKING PIG STY! AND SHANE BRINGS A GODDAMN GUN INTO MY HOUSE, MY BOYFRIEND IS THROWING UP IN MY BATHTUB, SOMEONE KEEPS ASKING FOR SHAVING CREAM AND NOW YOU LET MY FUCKING CAT RUN LOOSE IN THE GODDAMN FREEZING RAIN! PLEASE FIND MY CAT NOW AND EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT! DO NOT HELP ME CLEAN JUST GET OUT! I AM TIRED, CHARLIE IS SICK AND I AM NOT FUCKING HAPPY! FIND THE FUCKING CAT AND THEN FUCKING LEAVE!'

Luckily, Mike instantly found the cat and waltzed back in like a hero with he/she in his arms. One by one we said our goodbyes, Mike let the cat down, shut the door and we were gone. I don't remember who drove me home but I was in no condition to drive. Hell none of us were well enough to drive come to think of it.

And in case you were wondering, we were never asked back to hang out at Julie's apartment again.

- The Mountain Cat

A funny from the past

For anyone who ever wondered about the strange sense of humor that Mt. Cat and I seem to share here is a quick story he reminded me of last week. I bet none of you guys find this nearly as funny as we did...

Years ago before we were roommates we were headed out to the store together to get some things before going to a party. (which is a story in unto itself - Ya'll will have to remind me sometime to tell the story of "Julie's cat") We went to a Bi-Lo over off of Albemarle Road in Charlotte for supplies. After we had checked out when we were leaving the store there was a Coke machine with a sign on it to indicate that it was out of order. Instead of saying that it simply said "B-R-O-K-E" I pointed the sign out to Vin who started laughing so hard that he was about to fall over. I said something like, "Awwww, poor little Coke machine is out of money and it's broke. Maybe we should give him some money to help feed his family since he is so broke. " As if it were panhandling on the side of the street. We howled with laughter. At the time it was one of the funniest things ever. I wish we had digital cameras back then to grab a picture for posterity. It's still funny to this day the mental image of the Coke machine with the sign saying "Broke" on it and all I have to do is say, "It was broke" to Vin and he knows exactly what I am talking about.

See I told you all that Vin and I share a have really odd sense of humor. Does anyone else find that funny or should we be committed?

-Doc

The Night We Never Met

When I was a senior in high school I played football but also had a part time job as a bagger at a local supermarket. As it turns out the combination of these two things was the way that I ended up meeting ole Mt. Cat who ends up turning out to be one of my best lifelong friends. This is the story of how we met and how we sort of met before we ever met. It will make more sense as I tell it.

Friday night football is a huge tradition at our high school (West Charlotte Senior High) and back when we were there we were really good. My senior year we were undefeated conference champs. One thing you need to know about West Charlotte high is that although the school was very racially diverse historically it was known as an African American high school. It's located in a very prominent "black" part of town and has always been a source of pride in the black community. Especially the athletic teams and the marching band. No offense to the rest of ya'll bands but our band could JAM!

I tell you all this to set the stage for the picture of me on the football team. There were multiple white players on the team but we were in the minority. Certainly no problem there...may the best athlete play. However lets just say that I was one of very few white players on defense. There were actually like 2 of us. I was also not a starter, as a safety I played when the defense needed additional coverage for receivers and on special teams. My group of friends and classmates always used to sit together at games and sometimes they would call out things from the stands to show their support and encouragement for the team and my playing status. It was not at all unusual to hear things yelled from behind me during games such as "Hey Coach, Put the white boy in!" or "White boy....48 white boy 48" (my number) I prefer to think of them as just having a lot of school spirit and support for the team and not that they were making fun of me.

Enter Vince. (Mt. Cat) Now what you have to know about Vin at this point is that he is not from Charlotte, NC. Vin is from Brooklyn New York City and moved to Charlotte NC during the summer before his senior year of high school. I can't even imagine the culture shock he went through not just in terms of the difference in city but it was a big transition in school and just before his senior year. I guess that he didn't know very many people. He and I hadn't met. Heck there were probably 3000 students at our school. The only people that he knew were kids that he had met at his new job as a cashier at a grocery store. Yep you guessed it, the same grocery store that I worked at on the weekends.

OK, back to the football game. One Friday night early in that fall of 1989 Vince decides to check out the school football team and go to the game. I am sure that we were demolishing some poor opponent and so the mood in the stands was pretty good. As fate would have it Vince happens to find a large group of students to sit with that just happen to be acting as my own personal cheering section that night. So as he is sitting there hanging out watching the game apparently people are cheering things like "GO SHANE!!" " Way to go 48" and other very encouraging things just trying to keep up the school spirit. So curiosity gets the better of him and he asks the guy sitting next to him. "Who are they yelling for? Who is this Shane?" and the response that he gets is something along the lines of a drunken slurr "He'sssss numberrrr forty-eight. He'ssss the best playerrrrr" Vince then searches the field looking for this hero. This team leader who is helping the Lions crush their opponent. Is he scoring Touchdowns? Is he sacking the quarterback? Suddenly he spots the elusive 48. The one who makes the other students chant special things. And Vin then asks the million dollar question.... "Hey, If he's the best player then what is he doing on the bench?"

Fast forward to the weekend. I am going to my job at the grocery store where I usually clean up the back room and mop the floor... 25 times just to make sure it's clean. (and to get out of the real work) and I notice there is a new guy up front as a cashier. I ask Carol in the office who this new guy is and am told. "His name is Vinny. He is from New Yaak" OK fair enough. I go about my duties. Later when Vin goes to take his break I come in to introduce myself. The conversation went a little something like this:

"Hey, I'm Shane, I hear you are from New York. Cool. Hey where do you go to school?"
"I just started at West Charlotte."
"Cool I go there too... I play......football"
"Oh, so you're Shane!!??"
At this point I think that my reputation has exceeded me so I smile and get ready to enjoy my adoration as a football hero when Vin follows it up with, "So hey, why do you ride the bench?"

I guess my reputation did proceed me... Too well in fact.

I am still not sure how we got to be such good friends after the night we never met.

-Doc