Christmas memories and sports

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Merry Christmas! Thoughts turn today to the most magical of seasons, a time my sister and I sat on the stairs in our Highland Avenue home in Bangor and waited patiently for our parents to wake up so we could race to the tree and open Santa’s presents.
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Merry Christmas! Thoughts turn today to the most magical of seasons, a time my sister and I sat on the stairs in our Highland Avenue home in Bangor and waited patiently for our parents to wake up so we could race to the tree and open Santa’s presents.

My, those were happy times.

My gifts usually centered around some sports-related theme. Even Santa Claus got into the act with a variety of balls, gloves and bats.

Even though basketball was a longtime passion for me, I was getting right up there in age – maybe 9 or 10 – before I received my first real basketball.

Believe it or not, I never shot a ball at a basket until I was in eighth grade. I had received balls, sneakers, apparel and games of one kind or another, but the wondrous game never caught on before that.

I was an ardent Boston Celtics fan as far back as the mid-1950s, but playing the game didn’t happen until the mid-’60s. Yes, that’s a little strange, but baseball was the sport I played first. From an early age, the Boston Red Sox were the team of choice and have remained to this day the apex of my sports world.

What I miss most are the Christmas mornings when my parents were alive. It seems odd still that they are not here for all the festivities.

My favorite of those days in Brewer and later Bangor were the times when the houses were filled with family members who made the trek to our place for dinner. Now, our two older boys are with their own extended family, and Shelly and I will huddle by the tree with a bright-eyed, young 7-year-old who has had Christmas on his mind for several months.

As a former basketball coach, I am troubled by the number of games that will be played this week. Back in the day, kids had a lot more time to themselves, and all these winter sports were put on hold or held later in the vacation week, allowing families their precious time alone with their kids.

Yes, I’m getting older, but there was something special about those times. My second year of teaching, I flew home for the holidays from Indiana. There were no games, no practices and no school. Christmas break has been shortened, games have been crammed into December and January because of a late November start, and the holidays suffer.

That, dear readers, may be more of a sacrilege than printing Xmas on a card or an advertisement, leaving out the most important name in the holiday itself, Jesus Christ.

Like the Viking Lumber commercial says: “Call us old-fashioned, and we’ll say ‘thanks.'”

30-Second Time Out

Christmas wishes go out today to Dr. John Winkin, who has been transferred to a rehab facility in central Maine to begin the arduous task of recovery from a stroke.

Dr. Winkin, the longtime baseball coach at Colby College, the University of Maine in Orono and Husson College in Bangor, has touched many lives in his teaching and coaching career, including my own.

When I was a student at UMaine, it was not unusual to find me on I-95, driving south to Waterville to watch this great coach work.

Winkin has a gift to motivate people to strive for levels they can’t normally attain.

The two years I worked with Dr. Winkin at Husson, he taught me a lot, with lessons like this: “Always be the first to arrive at your work place and the last one to leave.”

We’re all pulling for you, John. Get better.

bdnsports@bangordailynews.net


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