Fudda!

This strikingly handsome young fellow is one of my long time friends, a relationship that was born in the trenches of Queen's football, and steeled in the shenanigans that were a staple of life in university in the early 1980's, a time well before the advent of cell phones, and the sole reason that none of us spent any time behind bars. If you're curious what the words wrapping around his mug shot mean, please have some patience, and all will shortly make sense.

I first met Frank Kakouros in 1983, his rookie year, and as a fellow "HOG" (offensive lineman), we shared a kindred unity of position and mindset. As the caretakers of the "sparrows", we were the piano movers to the team's piano players. There's a pride that comes with being entrusted the pledge of protection, a feeling that spreads like a pandemic amongst the unit, forging unbreakable bonds that have only become more enhanced over the 41 years since that fateful day. Frank, the other Hogs, and I have shared many a beverage, laugh, and story.

During the time we were wearing the gold of the Gaels, the witticism that accompanied conniving, intelligent (we had been accepted to Queen's after all), testosterone-infused young men was both acerbic and cutting. Some of us were bequeathed nicknames that made sense, a play on our names, like Porter begat PORTS; Harrison begat HAIRBONE; Schad begat SHADILLAC; Burleigh begat BURLS; O'Doherty begat OD; Larsen begat LARS. Some centered around home towns like Hudson was known as ARN, as in Arnprior. Some were strokes of genius, the origins of which I'm still not sure about, when Langford became SHARK; Mohr became BEAR, Galunic became TUNA, Kyle became JET. Some nicknames were born out of blunders and guffaws that were, at times, both bizarre and astounding, so when Frank one day fancied himself a nickname, and offered a few choice tidbits that he felt captured his rare combination of cultural panache and pride, the boys were having none of it. The revolving door of Frank's handles was born, the most populous of which wrap around his pic at the above left. 

I'm partial to Fudda, if I'm honest, and have used that for much of our adult lives.

Time moves at its own rate, each of us crossing Life's thresholds, the most recent of which was turning 60. I achieved that club status last fall, and with Fudda's big day looming, his best chums from high school wanted to arrange a surprise party, something that they knew would grind his gears, and they were loving it! They knew that he would simply shrug off the milestone as "yet another day" and they were adamant that they pull this off. The venue was booked, the extended family invited, the plan executed, and Frank was flabbergasted that so many would be so kind.

The planning stages had extended to the welcoming ears of a team mate, Mark Burleigh, a fellow '87 grad and ex-house mate. The mischievous Burleigh mind churned and spun, quickly devising a shenanigan of epic proportions, a boondoggle that would work best if a host of us would agree to join. A litany of emails later, and 11 hardy pranksters were able to arrange to meet in Pickering's Lone Star Texas Grill in preparation to make Fudda's jaw drop.

The piece de resistance was Burleigh's creation of the artwork at the top left, printed on Tees no less, worn with pride as we staged our giggling selves on outer side of the front door. 

None of us geniuses had the where with all to video the moment, so you'll simply have to believe me when I tell you that the look of bewilderment on Fudda's face as we stormed the room was worth every second of the planning. While we had travelled far and wide to arrive at this particular time, mostly from within a couple or three hours of the GTA, one of our kin made the extra effort to fly in from the left coast, so when Russ Glithero saved his appearance for last, the tear that formed in the corner of Fudda's eye was both genuine and heart-warming.

The dashingly handsome lot pictured to the right includes (from L to R):

Russ Glithero, Vince Panetta, Mark Burleigh, Chris Rik, Frank 'Fudda' Kakouros, Joe Valente, John Flannery, Tom Langford, Tom Stefopulos, Greg Baun, Connie Mandala, and yours truly.

Chalk it up as another chapter in the ever evolving story of us as we delight in the continuing camaraderie of an exclusive fraternity that is tighter than the highest torqued nut. we never tire of spending time, cutting each other with wisecracks, and rekindling the flames of friendship forged in the heat of the battle centered around our beloved Richardson Stadium. 

As the students oft cheered, "They're BIG! They're YELLOW! They're BIG YELLOW guys!"

And speaking of nicknames, I still don't know what the 'eff' a GG is! (Inside joke)