CAPTURE THE FLAG

Capture the Flag

i remember playing capture the flag when i was around 12 i guess. summer days were amazing then, like each day was a sun drenched, wheelie poppin marathon. we rode bikes, stole cigarettes and acted tough. we had no idea then what tough was. but i guess ignorance is bliss. and at the end of each daily marathon, we'd all gather in the front yard at my folks house. there was jeff and his brother scott bowling. nancy simpson and mary jane griesinger. greg niehaus and his brother steve, their cousin eric and my next door neighbor mike and his beautiful little tomboy sister Kristina and her supermodel beautiful friend eleni and some of the girls would join us. and me, jim and amy and abby. and oh yeah, deron foster.

sides were drawn. flags were hidden. plans were made. we were always so serious about this game. it was all out warfare. it was a military operation executed by kids. we wore dark clothes, we waded through the creek in our tennis shoes. kids were hurt and cut on barb wire fences. girls screamed in terror, boys became men. it was an hour or two of tactical espionage. there were no guns, there was spying and sneaking and stalking and hiding. we had prisoners to capture and friends to rescue. it was as serious and intense a game as i've ever played. and yet it was the most fun game i remember as a kid.

i can remember the days being long, hanging out after dinner in the dugout of the high school baseball field. we always stole smokes from my dad. we'd smoke and cuss and sweat. we were future kings after all. and we'd make plans for the next day and what we'd do, and where we'd ride our bikes tomorrow. we'd remember the things that happened to us during the day. all details exaggerated and memories were much funnier than the reality ever was. but i can remember that we'd always make the plans for the next day, and what time and all that. but we never made plans for capture the flag. kids just showed up at our yard every night. showed up, picked sides and hid flags. it's where we went. it's what we did. it's how we played.

i think that was the greatest summer of my childhood. i'd always see all my friends at night, we'd go to war together. and every night would come to an end with my dad whistling at us from the front porch, telling us the game was over, telling us to come out from our hiding places. i remember our arms and faces sweaty and blotched with dirt, mud and sometimes blood. we were happier than we'd been all day. and we'd stand on the driveway and drink coke's or kool-aid. and God it was great to be 12. And long before my Pop died, and my brother before him, I felt the world was a great place to be. If I shut my eyes tight and i think really hard i can smell the sweat, and hear the voices of my childhood friends. see the smile of my brother. it was the greatest summer.

Date: Sat, 14 Mar 2009 23:07:29 -0400