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 4th 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 4th 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.
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