Saturdays With Shorty

[Syrinx]

I've run across the field at Bryant-Denny (well it was just Denny, back
then), but not at Alabama games. Tuscaloosa High used to play their
Friday night games there, and I'd go with an older cousin who went to
school there. It was a thrill as a kid to be out on the field that you
knew the very next day, Bear would lead my team to victory over their
latest victim. (This isn't as boastful as it sounds. In those days, all the
really big games were played in Birmingham.)

Once, when I was about eleven, my parents took me to a 'Bama game. I was
really into photography then. I dreamed of being a photographer for
Sports Illustrated. I was standing outside the chain-link fence around
the field taking pictures.

This young female photographer from some newspaper spotted me and
offered me an extra arm-band that she had that got me inside the fence.
Then I got to roam up and down the sidelines with the professionals from
the newspapers, big and small. (I think they're may have even been an SI
guy there.)

The interesting sights didn't end with the game action. This young boy
was also mesmerized by the visions of the cute, wholesome cheerleaders as
well as of the beautiful, not-so-wholesome Crimsonettes. I don't know
if the outfits the Crimsonettes wore in those days would even be legal
now. I do suspect that a talented gynecologist with powerful binoculars
could perform a cursory examination from the stands. (And I have a few
pictures to prove it.)

When my roll of film ran out, the lady photog was kind enough to give me
three rolls of Tri-X that she had. I offered to go into the stands and
get money from my dad to pay for the film, but she wouldn't hear of
that.

And I remember Shorty Price. I saw him at every 'Bama game I went to
back in those days. And he was always three-sheets-to-the-wind, and very
entertaining, if sometimes embarrassingly crude. I can't imagine anyone
getting away with anything like that these days, unless they made a
special dispensation for the ghost of Shorty himself. I'm sure, though,
the Greek contingent still smuggles in vast quantities of Jim Beam and
Pink Panty Pull-Downs.

Nothing beats the spectacle of college football. Not even March Madness.

(Just reminiscing.)

[trof]

1. Oh hell yes, I remember Shorty.

Especially at the Alabama-Auburn games.
That ratty stuffed tiger he'd drag around and throw on the ground and stomp on.
And the battered tophat he wore.
Shorty Price was also a perennial candidate for governor.

A friend of mine who knew his family said that they were wealthy and had set up some kind of trust for their black sheep ne'er-do-well which kept him in booze and enabled him to pay the filing fee every four years. In fact, I think the terms of his trust insisted that he had to run for public office periodically.

When I was a student at U. of A., a bunch of us took our dates out "creek-banking" on a warm Saturday afternoon. Might have been at Big Sandy. We brought blankets, towels, a picnic and beer. A little while after we'd settled down in a good spot and were splashing around in the water, here came Shorty through the woods.

He was wearing the tophat, a black, knit, almost Speedo-type bathing suit and lace-up boots. He was the whitest white man I have ever seen. In one hand he was dragging a motheaten blanket. By the other hand he was dragging a skinny (and VERY young looking) blond woman. The term "floozey" came immediately to mind.

He waved and disappeared down the bank. In a few minutes he reappeared.
"Say, you fellers wouldn't have an extra coupla beers, wouldja?"
We gave him three and he thanked us and left.

[Syrinx]

2. hey, that's interesting

I remember Shorty running for governor all the time, but had never heard that he was financially mandated to do so. Very interesting tidbit.

I haven't been to Big Sandy in ages. Or Little Sandy for that matter. I used to really like going to Lake Champagne. The water there is so clear and bubbly, I always figured that was why it was called what it is. But I found out not too long ago that the lady who owns the property is named "Champagne." Unfortunately, she doesn't allow public access anymore. I hear it's for liability reasons. Too bad. It's a wonderful little place.