-- When I was growing up in the 1960s-70s, we often played late summer and fall football games in various locations: on streets, vacant lots, school fields, suburban yards, a grocery store parking lot (under the lights) or in parks. In the games on grass surfaces, we played tackle. Often, ten-plus boys participated. It was a different world then, with bigger families, rougher boys, no cell phones, video games or computers and fewer, liability-based restrictions. We spent more time face-to-face. And with our faces in the dirt.
One summer day, we were playing a six-kid tackle game in my parents’ front yard. The crew included my 11-year-old little brother, Danny, and our next-door neighbor, Artie. Artie was mouthy, a year older, a couple of inches taller and at least ten pounds heavier than Danny. Danny had two older brothers and, therefore, was used to scraps with boys bigger than he was. Danny’s always had exceptional coordination and, although he was quiet, a disposition and moral code that included “taking no mess.” MORE AT Bearing Eternal Witness to a Scam ⋆ Brownstone Institute
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