Hey Guys…Anyone wanna play “Saloogie”? Hunnh?Well d’ya hunnh? Whadya…CHICKEN? (note:please add any number of F words anywhere and if I remember correctly…everywhere possible,to authenticate the mood). In Bensonhurst,Brooklyn NY the Saloogie championships “uda world” were held everyday after school despite “My Mother said”‘s hanging over all our heads! Johnny B.though had a “My Mother told my Father” hanging over his, so he was only lightly “Nayaad”and excused from the big game,(for a couple of days). Periodically (once a week)intensely hushed rumors would float over the court(down the other end of the block,just not in front of the school itself …the nuns)that an unknown team of players from God knows where(they didn’t go to our school)was coming to challenge us to a real game.So a serious intent to toughen up our play would result.They never did show up, but I’m sure they periodically toughened up their play in case we showed up one day,too.No one could stop us from playing,not admonitions from parents ,nuns or even “Shoo gidouta here stupid kids” from the ladies who lived in the houses we played in front of.It was addictive.It was a test of courage,agility(you had better be or if not you had better be fast)and most of all it was above all else a true measure of stupidity(why none of us got “run over” dashing in and out of parked cars,being chased by 2 or 3 ,being cut off by another or ambushed by the big slow guys amazes me still. Does anyone remember the ‘chicken’pass thrown too early when the other team got ALMOST too close.Status was acheived when you got caught by the other team and amidst the punches(no punchin’ inna face man)and elaborately named “moves” reputedly used by wrestlers … you got free!!!!!!!!!!! In the end a force greater than we could’ve ever imagined destroyed our game.Not weather(year round play … no problem,slippery ice evened the play for the slower guys),rain (Mothers wanted to give us umbrellas to take to school but were afraid we really would poke each others eyes out since once out of a mothers sight ‘mumbrellas’ magically turned into weapons ‘with a sharpened point man …see’,no not even Dads(a bit tricky that one)no it was……….shool uniform pants!The Nuns desperate to end ‘the shame of our school’ finally came up with something.They announced that any boy whose uniform pants were ripped or even patched too much (mine had 2or3 hardly noticable(thanks ma)neatly sewn repairs on each knee)would not be allowed in school.They had the priest mention it in chuch even.It put an end to the regular game…er,championship.We never did play those other guys…bu “we wouda creamed em” for sure.