Johnny & Me, an Oxford story
Now what do we do? I’m usually a big Olympics buff, but I’m having trouble getting into it this year.
Call it a Super Bowl hangover. We’re all still walking on air following the Eagles’ astounding Super Bowl win over the Patriots.
I was hoping I’d settle into the Olympics this week.
Part of the reason is my wife. She has banned me from watching the ice skating. It’s too nerve-racking for her, fearing the skaters will end up on their back side during one of their daring jumps.
She thinks I kind of wait for the spills. She might be right.
But there is another reason I look forward to the skating.
It gives me a chance to check in with an old friend. Well, sort of. I love Johnny Weir. But not for the reason you might think.
Johnny teams with Tara Lipinski to form one of the best breaths of fresh air to come along in sports announcing in a long time. Both are former champion skaters. Both do not hold back when it comes to being critical of poor performance. And neither is a cheerleader for the USA.
None of which forms the reason for my joy every time I see Johnny’s face.
That’s because when I look at Johnny, I see his mom. He’s a dead ringer for the girl I used as Patti Moore.
That’s right, I have a connection with Johnny.
And that connection is none other than good old Oxford, Pa. Oxford is not always associated with Johnny. When he was competing, I would always hear Johnny referred to as being from Quarryville, or sometimes Coatesville. And he trained for years at the University Delaware.
In fact, for years I didn’t make the connection until one morning I was literally watching the ‘Today’ show in the office when Johnny was being interviewed. They showed his family enjoying Rockefeller Center. I couldn’t believe my eyes. That’s Patti Moore! I exclaimed. Slowly it began to sink into my thick noggin’. Patti had married John Weir, another old Oxford pal.
That’s where his mom and dad grew up. Me, too. We went
The then Patti Moore and John Weir were a year or two behind me.
Actually, Patti and I knew each other long before I finally made it to Oxford High. Remember, I didn’t attend public school until the day I walked into Oxford High. For eight years I got on a bus and traveled 10 miles down old Route 1 to Assumption BVM School in West Grove. Or, as we called it, St. Mary’s.
But Patti’s family and mine knew each other to to know school together. of from church. Hell, we sat just a few pews away every Sunday at the old Sacred Heart Church.
The truth is I knew most of the kids in town anyhow. Hey, it was a small town. Most of them knew I was going to a “Catholic” school, but it didn’t stop them from asking me why I had to where a tie to school every day.
When I got a little older, I returned the favor, preparing for my momentous first day at a public school, I was faced with a question I had never had to ask before. Just what do you wear to high school? For eight years, it was never a consideration. I knew exactly what I was going to wear: blue slacks, white shirt, and blue clip on ABVM tie, most likely with yesterday’s lunch splattered all over it.
I worked just about every day after school at my parents’ store, just a block down the street from the high school. It was kind of a hangout for kids. It was there I learned of the magic elixirs you could whip up at a full soda fountain, including any number of variations of Cokes – Cherry Coke, Vanilla Coke, Lemon Coke.
The Moores lived just a few blocks away.
I played football with Patti’s brother Mark. And her future husband, John. That’s right. Johnny Weir’s dad was a football player, and a damn good lineman at that.
Unfortunately, our team was not nearly as good. Hell, I was the quarterback our senior year. That should tell you about all you need know.
Every time I see Johnny on TV, it’s like a trip home - and to my childhood all those long years ago in Oxford.
Oddly enough, I to drove through town recently on my way to visit my kids in Washington, D.C. I always like to go through town on my way to pick up I-95.
I always make a visit to the cemetery, and drive down Wheeler Boulevard past our old house. And finally I drive by the corner where Heron’s was down the street from the high school.
The town has changed a lot — not so much in town where we all lived, but outside town is literally exploding. One end of town is anchored by a Walmart store.
I never thought I’d see the day when there were traffic jams in Oxford. Or a Starbucks for that matter.
But I bet they don’t make Cherry Cokes there.
I always think back fondly of those days. Life was a lot simpler back then. You knew everybody. And everybody knew you. That was not always a good thing. It was next to impossible to get away with anything. We didn’t need the Internet. Information flew literally from one window to the next.
I’m always proud to tell people where I came from.
I bet Patti and John Weir would say the same thing. Their son is known all over the world.
But I always trace his roots back to the tiny town in Chester County where I grew up.
As always, thanks for the memories, Johnny!