Empty Nest
John Ferlazzo
Thursday March 22, 2001
Spring. It must be coming, I tell myself. The stores trumpet their spring sales. Easter candy is on sale at the supermarket. Baseball is waking from a long winter`s sleep on the fields of Florida and Arizona. You can even point toward the first day of Spring on all the calendars.
Yet something is missing. Something that came every spring for the last 10 years. Something I know won`t be in the mailbox this year.
My season tickets.
The tickets to the same section, the same seats at the Pepsi Arena that I`ve had for 10 years. The same seats I bought for my wife, Carol, and my nephew, Billy, and the same group of fans in my section.
It all went by so fast.
Eleven years ago, I went to my first AFL game, not knowing what to expect. I was given a couple of complementary tickets to see Denver vs. Albany. Hey, why not go?
I remember the moment as if it was yesterday, walking into the arena to see the bright green turf field, where I never expected turf to be. Funny nets around impossibly small goalposts. Eight men a side where there should be eleven. A game played with speed and grace, where touchdowns came in bunches. A game where you were so close to the players that it felt like you were there with them, on the field.
I was hooked.
I knew I was going to get season tickets. I had never had season tickets before to any event, so seeing the envelope in the mail slot was special. The tickets were fresh and bright, with the promise of a special season every spring.
Then the memories all bunch together, mixing as they flash by. The "Singing Quarterback", Tom Poras, throwing to a graceful Freddie Gayles. Coach Buffington, after a nerve-wracking win, diving into the hot tub. A new head coach in Mike Hohensee for the team. "Touchdown" Eddie Brown makes his spectacular entrance, scoring touchdown after touchdown as the crowd chants "Eddie, Eddie".
Fast forward to Arena Bowl 12. I feel the rush of fans to the field after the game, and confetti falling all around me.
More special than the championship itself was what happened afterward at the post-game party, when the buzzing crowd fell silent as Daryl Stingley entered the building, a token of the respect everyone there gave him gladly.
I remember the smile that blazed on his face after seeing his son Derek in the championship game, and win. You don`t forget things like that...ever.
I don`t have the space to name all the players, all the special moments, but I won`t forget the fans, either.
The Sister who used to play charge on his bugle, the "Taste Great, Less Filling" chants, the block parties where beer, food and fun were everywhere. The fan club, taking time out to bring fans in wheelchairs down to the field to meet the players. The coaches’ dinners, and the meet the team dinners, more hot dogs, more beverages.
Getting asked to leave Giants camp after we tried to distribute discount ticket coupons was a blast. Jim and Annie Malone getting the fan club together on a moment`s notice to place fan guides on 13,562 seats. I remember Jim going row to row, placing them on each seat, hobbling on two bad knees, helping the team on short notice because he cared.
2000 comes, and for the first time I don`t know if I will get my season tickets, as players and management are embroiled in a labor dispute that threatens to halt the season. Joy, as the season is saved, but sorrow at the retirement of Eddie Brown after his masterful game on national TV. And then another bitter loss in the playoffs.
Then, hearing the announcement in October, that the team was leaving to go to Indianopolis, the one I knew would come.
The announcement was not a shock, because fans here had heard rumors for years about the team moving. It was something you had to live with year to year. Sometimes the rumor was the team was going to New York City, other times it was Buffalo or Boston.
We were told that our city was too small, that the economy was bad, that the economic base wouldn`t support the team; that the new CBA was going to cause team expenses to skyrocket.
Even in the best of circumstances, TV considerations would force a move at some point...though it was hoped that the team would move somewhere within driving distance of Albany.
The most bitter pill to swallow was that there was not going to be a last game at the Pepsi to say goodbye; to celebrate eleven great years.
Even if it was only a pre-season game. At least it would have shown someone cared.
Eleven years is a long time. Billy has grown from a small child who expected me to lift him after every Albany touchdown to a teenager taller than I am. Many of the children who came to the first year in 1990 are now starting college. They were fans of the game before last October, though now...who knows?
Comissioner Baker likes to talk about the million fans who attended Arena Football last year. Yet, with four teams moving this year, almost twenty percent of that million won`t see the team they rooted for last year.
Yes, many of those markets will get af2 teams, and that`s a good thing. I like af2, it`s more like the game I knew in 1990 than today`s game.
But if we get an af2 team, that team won`t be the same team, even if they use the same uniforms and name as the team that left. The af2 team will be different, with a new history in a new league.
The old one is gone, melted away like the snow on Pearl street. The banners of all those seasons don`t hang from the rafters anymore. Only the echos of the cheers still haunt the Pepsi.
The snow is still falling tonight as I write this. The calendar must be lying. Spring can`t be that close, not with all those piles of snow on the ground.
It will be strange to see April come and not to be down on Pearl Street, enjoying the block party, and waiting for the fireworks, for the players to come out onto the field. Eleven years is a lifetime of memories and an ocean of emotions ago.
The calendar says spring is coming. I catch myself looking at the mailbox, waiting for something that used to come every spring.
John Ferlazzo (John F.), is one of the original members of ArenaFan. He`s been the ArenaFan email list moderator since 1995, and also the Third-Party News Editor for the af2 section of ArenaFan. A Biomed Engineer (and also a systems admistrator for several medical systems), John has been involved with computing since someone threw a 286 on his desk back in 1987 and said "get the darn thing working!". He did :) Currently, John lives in Schenectady, NY with his wife Carol and their two cats, Skippy and Tisha.