My First Memory

When you reach my age there tends not to be much difference between first and last memory . . . just one big haze.

Leo Prendergast was my mother's father and he played football including one year as a professional. He also coached football at both the high school and college level. I never looked into his career until a few years ago and it was neither as extensive nor noteworthy as I had thought - I wonder how that happened; but I digress.

He did play three games during the 1926 season for the Brooklyn Horsemen of the American Football League. Of course the American Football League only lasted one season. It was formed by Red Grange as a result of a contract dispute with the National Football League. He also coached at Lehigh University for 3 seasons, 1943 - 1945, and had a 2-15-1 record; the worst won-loss percentage of any coach. However, he found his calling as a high school football coach. He was very successful, had a positive impact on many young men and actually won a state title.

By now you are probably wonder what, if anything, this has to do with my first memory since I was born about 10 years later. Well . . . that is a good question.

My grandfather played a lot of football games. The helmets were made of leather, there were no face masks or any sort of face protection. By now maybe you can figure out where this is headed. You see he had broken his nose so many times that they had removed ALL the cartilage and that is the key to my memory.

To this day, I remember my grandfather coming up to me or trying to surprise me from behind. He would make a raspy noise with his mouth and shake his head from side to side - so for so good. But when he stopped shaking his head - well his nose kept going from side to side for what seemed like an eternity.

It scared the living daylights out of me which only encouraged him to keep doing it.

That is my first memory and I have been scarred for life.

Love,
Dad