By Dolores Bader

My guess is that more food passes from vendors to customers at the Union football home games than is sold over the counter in the whole community the rest of the week. I don’t know who is responsible for the planning but it has to be a big job. Now the LPC Golf Club is shuttling fans to the stands in golf carts if the walk seems intimidating. That is a very nice touch.

At the first home game, I had the fun of sitting in front of the Class of ‘63, here for their 50th class reunion. Most of their parents were good friends of mine. As I sat there a chilling thought ran through my mind: I watched THEIR high school ball games when they were kids! It’s a little scary to actually number the years you have been doing the same thing over and over, season by season. Then came another thought: I had a lot of these kids in my Sunday School classes over the years. The third thought was pure nostalgia: I really miss their parents, who were my peers; so many of them were bright shining lights in my life. It was fun to hear the class of ’63 talk about their grandchildren. It was even more fun to hear Jim Sheffler holler “that’s my nephew!” every time Dylan Bear made one of his spectacular plays. That was a good night in so many ways. A perfect example of what life in a small community has to offer even after the time comes to move on.

The one sport I really don’t follow is wrestling, but I was very glad to hear that it was reinstated for the upcoming Olympics. My cousin, Gene Luttrell, was wrestling coach at West High in Waterloo for many years. I well remember those meets. I would sit with my eyes covered so I didn’t have to watch what I considered the “torture.”  Obviously, he saw the whole situation differently.  Recently I said to my grandson, “I don’t see how anyone could think going out on that football field and getting beat around could be fun.”  His reply was firm and short – “Grandma, I LOVE IT!”