Light Up My Life

Light Up My Life

Football training camps opened last week and NFL fans are awakening from their slumber.  This past season the Giants won their 4^th Superbowl.  Unlike the Steelers who accomplished this feat in a 6 year stretch, it took the Giants 25.   It was the 1986 season when the Giants would win their first Superbowl.

Bill Parcels had taken the reigns of the Giants in 1983 and had them heading in the right direction.  In the 1985 playoffs they ran into the Juggernaut that was the Chicago Bears, losing 21-0.  1986 would be a year of optimism for the Giants.  This would never be more evident than during the spring.  My family and I had gone away for a weekend upstate.  During dinner at the resort, who should be sitting next to us but Phil McConkey and Jim Burt of the Giants.  Boy what complete opposites, McConkey the skinny wide receiver and Burt the rotund nose tackle.  They reminded me of the marooned guys from an old Bugs Bunny cartoon.  Noticing our interest, after they dined, we were invited over.  My Step Dad and I spoke with them about the upcoming season.  Both players felt they had unfinished business since the team fell short of the Superbowl the previous year.  You could see the fire in their eyes as the spoke.  Hmmm, there’s that eyes thing again.  A couple of handshakes and a few autographs and they were on their way.

That same spring I was working at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard.  The United States had just bombed Libya and security could not have been tighter.  We heard through the grapevine that our facility was a tertiary nuclear target.  Great.  One weekend I was heading down to DC to visit friends.  I got a late start and sped my way on down.  A little too fast apparently.  As I entered Delaware a state cop spotted my speed.  He pulled me over and approached.  He took note of all the Naval Shipyard passes on my car and asked where I was headed in such a hurry.  I said, “DC Sir”.  Impressed, he asked if this was of national importance.  I told him I wish it were so I could get out of this ticket.  For my honesty, he let me off with a warning.  Tensions would run high along the East Coast for the rest of 1986.

It was now January of 1987 and a new college semester was starting.   I was back in class, relieved to be removed from the tense atmosphere at the Navy Yard.  Superbowl Sunday was approaching and in college that meant an all day party.  Who am I kidding, it means that now too.  My dorm room was designated for viewing duty.  The Giants proved to be unstoppable that year.  They had gone 14-2 during the season and won their two previous playoff games by a combined score of 66-3.  The pregame show was filled with our military personal and a patriotic presence.  Security at the stadium was at an all time high fearing Libyan retribution.  However, our beer flowed freely and our female counterparts provided the food.  The Giants won and Phil Simms was going to Disney World.  He barely got those words out of his mouth when it happened.

The room was filled with a brilliant white flash from outside.  The sound of the explosion was almost masked by the intense bright light.  What a second before had been blinding illumination, now was pitch black…TV, lights, everything.  For that moment in the darkness, which seemed like a lifetime, all was quiet.  It was eerie.  I broke the silence with a simple query…”Are we dead?”.  I wasn’t so sure we weren’t.  At that point we began to hear a clamor on the street below.  It would seem a few girls heading home from their own Superbowl party had taken a bunch of balloons with them.  In their drunken state, one of them lost theirs.  Now these were not of the rubber variety, they were Mylar.  As the one balloon ascended, it came in contact with the transformer on the light pole high above and directly outside our window.  It lodged itself perfectly in an imperfect spot causing an explosion.  The city blocks were blacked out.

Apparently we were still alive.  Someone had candles so the party continued.  We joked with the power off we didn’t want all that beer to go bad.  The moon over a darkened West Philly gave us just enough light to see snow begin to fall…and fall.  It approached 2am and the white stuff did not stop.  Several inches had accumulated when our soused schoolmate wondered if classes would be cancelled that day.  He concluded there was only one way to find out.  Go directly to the source, the Dean.  We gave him no never mind as he headed towards the phone.  411 was pushed and he inquired about a number for William Gaither in West Philly.  He hung up and quickly dialed again.  Someone answered, but we were all like this can’t be…he had to be pulling our leg.  It would seem a female answered the phone as my friend asked if he could speak to Mr. Gaither.  A moment’s pause and my friend again spoke, “Is this William Gaither…Dean Gaither?”  He must have gotten an affirmative because it was time for the real question. “Will classes be cancelled today because of the snow?”  I am not sure my friend ever received a response.  What I do know was that day we were the only institution open in all of Philadelphia...in a foot of snow.  A few hours later, hungover and sleep deprived we headed to class.  Thanks Steve!

The Superbowl that day was close early, but the Giants would run away with it in the 3^rd quarter eventually winning 39-20.  Jim Burt would stuff the middle all day long holding the Bronco running backs to only 25 total yards.  Phil McConkey would catch a touchdown pass to seal the game…never giving up on the play after the pass was deflected.

Glad I lived to tell you about it.