Godspeed, My Holy Friend
I have a vague recollection of climbing atop Dad's shoulders and watching Don Meredith toss bombs to Bob Hayes at the Cotton Bowl, but basically my life's screenplay starts in Texas Stadium.
Section 12. Row 24. Seat 8. For a 7-year-old punk, there was no better place on Earth than the 8-yard line, visitors' side.
Pops thinks he secured the right to those seats via a bond that cost him a cool $300. In Jonestown Coliseum, that seat license would be more like $30,000.
I'll have - surprise! - a list of my top all-time memories in this lil' corner of the blogosphere later this week and a warm-n-fuzzy column in next week's Dallas Observer, but for now I'm scrounging around for ways to squeeze every last drop out of the old joint.
*I'll be at Cowboys-Ravens Saturday night with old memories and fresh camera batteries.
*I'm reading the Fort Worth Star-Telegram's Mac Engel's book, complete with foreward by Roger Staubach, about America's Home Field.
I've got mine. What's your favorite Texas Stadium memory? - Richie Whitt