Night Cap

Night Cap

It was Saturday night, October 25, 1986.  John, Steve, Chris and I, Mike…such nice simple names of the 60’s offspring.  Today the story would begin with… Jason, Logan, Noah and Tyler… but anyway…

Our friend’s band was playing and we were off to the Empire Rock Club.  It was daylight savings and we looked forward to an extra hour of partying.  It was also Game 6 of the 1986 World Series.  Even though I was not a Met fan, I came to represent all that was New York to the local college kids.  The Mets were down 3 games to 2 to the hated Red Sox.  I thought, well, if the Mets lose, I wouldn’t want to watch…if they win, Game 7 would be the one to catch.  So I decided to join my friends and see the show.

We would take my car.  It was relatively new, barely two years old and by far the most reliable.  As we arrived at my parking spot, Chris pointed something out.  “Dude, what happened to your hubcaps”?  As I came around to the passenger side, sure enough…they were gone!  They only took two?  We must have just missed them.  Our approach scared them off.  I hoped they were in earshot, because the threats were loud and long.  Once I wore myself out, we were on our way.

The headliners that night were the Hooters, a local group of musicians that would eventually have their 15 minutes of fame.  But the band we really came to see would open for them.   After an hour-long set, and a few encores, our friend’s band finished.  The DJ then came on to make an announcement.  Since we did have the extra hour, they were going to delay the show to turn on the TV’s over the stage.  To a chorus of cheers, he informed us the Mets were losing and wouldn’t it be wonderful to see New York go down in flames.  Philly always had an inferiority complex to New York, especially in sports, and its ugly head was in full rear.  First my hubcaps and now this.  I didn’t want to watch this game in the first place and now it seemed I had no choice.

One out to go and I stood alone…waiting to see Gary Carter flail at an 0-2 pitch in the dirt to end the World Series.  Usually on an 0-2 count you throw a waste pitch…one so bad there is no way the batter could hit it…and just maybe he will swing at it.  However, this Boston pitcher decided to be a hero.  Instead, he tried to fire a fastball down the middle of the plate past a fastball hitter.  Bad idea.  Everyone will remember Bill Buckner.  I will remember that pitch were it all began to fall apart for the Red Sox.  The Mets won to force Game 7 and the Hooters took the stage.  They rocked the house until closing time.  As we left, with a Mets victory in hand and hearing two great bands, even my MIA hubcaps couldn’t bring me down.  We arrived home and settled back into the dorm…where more beer and music continued.

The following morning Steve, my roommate, awoke before I…but it was time I should get up anyway…it was almost noon.  Steve opened the blinds and spotted my car below.  He asked me what side did they steal my hubcaps from.  I responded with, “Passenger side…..why????”  He informed me, “Well, they got the driver’s side!”  My hour-long expletive explosion lasted what seemed like a lifetime to the undergrads in the dorm.  I deducted we DID scare them off and they waited for me to come back to complete the set.  I was so close to catching them!  The enjoyment of the previous evening dissipated as I stewed they had returned to remove the rest.

That night Steve had a date, and I had already graciously offered my car.  I hoped the lack of hubcaps wouldn’t alter the outcome for him.  As both our night’s ended he arrived back at our room.  What was this he was toting…Hubcaps!  He told me while he was waiting for his date to descend from her dorm, he spotted a similar car as mine.  Quickly he popped off two hubcaps and threw them in my trunk.  I asked him why only two, he said that was all he had time for.  I did not question him any further, I was appreciative…at least I had two now.

The years passed and it was now 1989.  The four friends from that October night were now Drexel grads.  It was the 4^th of July and we would be heading to Steve’s Jersey shore house for our yearly reunion.  It was the start of the weekend and the four of us arrived early.  It had been a while since we were all together.

We grabbed a few brews and began to relive our Drexel days…when the hubcap night was recalled.  Steve had just left the room to get another round, and John, forever the storyteller, was talking.  John turned to Chris, ”Yeah, that was the night we stole Walsh’s other two hubcaps.”  Umm, What!?  John looked perplexed that I did not know and continued on to tell the tale.  He said, “You and Steve went up to the dorm room first when Chris and I went to 7-11.  We thought it would be funny if we took your other two hubcaps.”  Huh, What???  I was so confused.  You mean it wasn’t the original perpetrators returning?  John continued, “Don’t be pissed, you got them back from us…didn’t you?“  I informed him I did not.  It told them it was Steve who had selflessly swiped me two while he was on his date the next night.  Now John and Chris were at a loss.  They said due to my extended outburst the following morning they were afraid to return the hubcaps directly to me, so they gave them to Steve to do it.

Just at that moment in our conversation, Steve returned to the room.  Still bewildered, the three of us turned to him and inquired about the STOLEN hubcaps.  Steve said, “Oh yeah, I didn’t steal them.  I just came up with that story so I would be even for borrowing your car.”  John and Chris now burst out laughing, and almost in unison said “You mean all these years Walsh never knew we were the ones who took his other two hubcaps!” Yeah, well, apparently not.  It was Steve who created an alternate reality for me.  It also finally made sense to John and Chris why I never tried to get back at them, being that I never knew until now.  We found it amazing that no one learned of what the others had done until it all unfolded before us on that day.  We ALL had a good laugh…mostly at my expense.  But I was still stunned…in all this time I never had a clue.

The “Hubcap Story”, as it came to be known, would be forever retold in its entirety every 4^th of July down the shore. 

What I never told them is what transpired after.  Thinking Steve had stolen the hubcaps so easily, I concluded that this was the way to go to replace the rest.  The following semester I had offered the freshman on our floor $1 for each hubcap they could get me.  They came back with 24 of them!  Unknowingly, Steve and his made up story had started a hubcap crime wave in West Philadelphia.

Somewhere the Fresh Prince is smiling.