Blind Date...

There were so many times growing up when I wished I could just close my eyes for a minute and when I opened them everything would be okay. It never happened of course but there were situations when I squeezed my eyes shut so tight I gave myself a headache. One of those situations came along at a Friday night football game in 1967.

When the Hurst-Euless-Bedford School District was still growing and the Castleberry School District was beginning to shrink there were a few years where Bell High School, my alma mater, was in direct football competition with Castleberry High School, where my cousin Mike graced the halls.

On one such football night, Bell was the visitor to Castleberry's Homecoming game. Mike had called earlier and asked if I wanted to stay over and go out with a couple of girls after the game. He added the teaser that "the girl I want you to meet is one of the band sweetheart nominees".  Just because I'm a nice guy I agreed to sacrifice in such a way. I sat with the Bell band on the visitor's side and watched Bell beat the heck out of Castleberry during the first half. The Bell band went out on the field and did a wonderful job I must say. Then Castleberry's band come on and I have to say right here and now there is nothing worse to a visitor than watching the backs of everyone on the field during a homecoming halftime show. Well, I take it back. There is one thing worse. Watching the show without my glasses is worse. All I could see were the fuzzy backs of the people on the field. (Its hard to keep up the "doggone good-looking look" when you need glasses.)

After halftime we figured the crowd had thinned around the concession stand so we wandered down for cokes and popcorn. I ran into Mike with his band buddies. He was all excited because the girl he had fixed me up with had won band sweetheart!! I got all excited too and thought about how great it would have been if I had actually seen her on the field instead of something fuzzy wandering around out there.

When the game was over I started looking for Mike and my date. I found him easily enough because there were about forty grinning band members standing around Mike with their evil little eyes trained on me. As I walked toward Mike the crowd opened up like they were waiting for me. I should have run for Hurst as fast as I could because it was an obvious ambush I had walked into. Mike grabbed me by the arm and reminded me I had a date with the Castleberry Band Sweetheart. Then he grinned so big I got scared. Before I had that chance to bolt and run this....let's say "husky" young lady walked up and Mike introduced her. "I would LOVE for you to meet Bertha Bigacres, Band Sweetheart for 1967!" This girl was big and her looks were not typical band sweetheart quality. As I stared in amazement at Bertha and tried to formulate a reason why she would be the band sweetheart Mike explained. He told me everyone had stuffed the ballot box. Bertha laughed and bragged that she had helped. I did not doubt her for a moment.

I have to say I took it like a man. I asked Bertha where she preferred to graze and she picked a pizza hangout in River Oaks. It seems this was pre-planned too because we got a standing ovation when we walked in. Bertha knew how to put that pizza away. I think I got one slice that night but to be honest, I didn't have much of an appetite. We hung around the dark pizza place all evening with the band crowd (thank goodness) and then I offered to haul her home. When we got to her house I walked her to the door just like my dad had taught me and waited for her to unlock the door. Then she turned to me and said, "How's about a little goodnight kiss?" I ran.

note: Over the years old Bertha has grown bigger and uglier in my mind. To be honest, she was maybe a little bit overweight but not that bad. She also was not an ugly girl. Mike showed me a photo of her when I was talking to him about writing this story. She was actually very nice looking. I had imagined a total knockout to walk up for our date and Bertha was not that. AND, since she laughed and bragged about being a part of the con, I felt justified in sharing the story. I hope she never reads it but if she does I'll say this: "Bertha, you are part of my happy memories. Best wishes!"