Christmas tree, O Christmas tree: Part Eight

 

The Bear Angel

When did bears come to be associated with Christmas?

Reindeers I get. Ditto cardinals, with their flash of red on a frigid winter’s morning. A partridge in a pear tree, check. Even donkeys make a certain amount of sense since one is supposed to have carried Mary to Bethlehem.

But bears?

Bears aren’t even around at Christmas. They’re hibernating in a cozy cave somewhere, dreaming of salmon flashing in the sun or snatching some unwary camper’s unattended bag of food.

We have a number of tree ornaments depicting bears in holiday attire. This my favorite – an adorable little bear angel with spread wings, carrying a star.

Truth be told, the Bear Angel is probably my favorite ornament on the tree. After taking it out of its special box, I examine it from all angles and then place it on a prominent branch so I can admire it anew every time I pass the tree.

I strongly suspect I now have revealed more about myself than I have about his particular ornament, but so be it. Sue me, I like the damned thing.

Marice and I found it years ago during a pre-Christmas shopping foray in Downtown Grapevine in one of the little shops that line Main Street. Grapevine bills itself as the Christmas Capital of Texas, and it lives up to the brag.

I’m no civic booster, but Grapevine’s Main Street at Christmastime is magical – a sensory delight filled with the sights, sounds and tastes of the season.

If you haven’t seen it, it’s worth a trip, in non-COVID times at least. You’ll find a smorgasbord of holiday things to see and do. And if you’ve been really good, I’ll invite you to Gunnels Manse to view our Bear Angel and enjoy a glass of eggnog. Loaded, of course.

Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, Part 5

A reminder of Northern New Mexico

In the BC era, Before Children, Marice and I traveled to Santa Fe during the first half of December every year to breathe the crisp, crystal-clear air of Northern New Mexico and view the simple beauty of the luminarias.

We loved the area at Christmastime. Anytime, really. But Santa Fe is special during the holidays, a reflection perhaps of its multi-cultural history – that amalgam of Native American, Spanish and White influences that make it one of America’s unique cities.

We stayed at the St. Francis Hotel downtown despite its teeny-tiny rooms because it was convenient to everywhere and had a cozy ground-floor bar and a wood-paneled lobby with a magnificently decorated Christmas tree.

We’d sit in the bar, sipping drinks and people-watching before taking off for shopping along Canyon Road, visiting Loretto Chapel or just wandering the streets, peeking into the city’s hundreds of art galleries and gift shops. The city is aglow this time of year with thousands and thousands of luminarias, simple but beautiful paper sacks half-filled with sand and lighted candles – or the electric versions thereof.

Our days would start at Pasqual’s Café, located across the street from the St. Francis. Just thinking of its huevos motuleños makes my mouth water even these many years after I had my last plateful.

At some point during our stay, we’d travel the High Road to Taos, making our usual pilgrimage to the 1,000-year-old Taos Pueblo, the longest continuously inhabited dwelling in America. Then we’d make our way to the Rio Grande Gorge outside of town in late afternoon. There, we’d hang out with dozens of others who come each evening to watch the sun set over the canyon, ending the day with a glorious splash of pinks and reds that left us all with a sense of peace and well-being.

On one of those trips, we picked up this ornament, which has hung on every tree we’ve ever had.

 

On to the playoffs: Southlake Carroll 45, Keller Fossil Ridge 21

 

Here come the playoffs!

Taking care of business

(This post has been edited, and erroneous playoff information corrected. Apologies!)

The Southlake Carroll Dragons had little to play for last night when they took the field against the lowly Keller Fossil Ridge Panthers.

They already were District 4-6A champs and a top-seeded Division I team in the playoffs, which secured them a first-round home berth next Friday. In the chaotic last few weeks, they had swept their district foes before them with considerable ease, except for the Haslet Eaton Eagles, who put up a struggle before being strangled.

And now they faced a team winless in district with a new coach who had taken over the program in the midst of the COVID-19 crackdown and had been fighting for his life ever since.

Under those circumstances, its hard to believe – impossible, in fact – that Dragon players and coaches weren’t looking beyond last night’s matchup and considering the playoffs that await them.

But they didn’t look like it. Rejecting the lure of complacency, they took care of business with a vengeance. Helmed once again by senior Hunter Holden, standing in for the injured Quinn Ewers, the Dragon offense scored on its first six possessions. In fact, The Dallas Morning News reported that it took Carroll only 15 plays to amass a 35-0 lead by the early 2^rd quarter.

Credible statistic

I didn’t count ’em, but the dominance the Dragons demonstrated on the field makes that statistic not only credible, but inevitable.

During the scoring spree, the Carroll defense denied the Panthers a single first down and held them to negative yardage. At that point, the Dragons eased their foot off the pedal a bit, and the Panthers engineered a scoring drive that finally put them on the board. At the half, Carroll led 42-7, and the game was essentially over.

Fossil Ridge, who didn’t attempt a single forward pass during the entire game, would score twice more in the second half, but only after Carroll cleared the benches to give its seniors time under the Dragon Stadium lights.

One of those seniors, tackle Jack Cunningham, spoke of the excitement his teammates felt to get some playing time on their home field.

“There’s so much energy out here,” Cunningham told Dragon Radio. “Everyone is cheering for you. There’s really nothing else like it. Nothing.”

Honor and respect

Holden is an example of the value of treating backup players with honor and respect, something coach Riley Dodge’s predecessor never bothered to do, with predictable results. Holden flowered when he stepped forward for his moment in the sun.

He has kept the Dragons on track during Ewers’ absence, slipping seamlessly into his starting role with style and grace. That doesn’t happen by accident. It comes with proper training and motivation. Take away the careful preparation of backups to take over as starters – a hallmark of Dodge and his father, legendary coach Todd Dodge -- and the concept of “next man up” just doesn’t work.

 If, as expected, the brilliant Ewers returns next week for the playoffs, Holden will have left quite a final act for himself. Last night, he threw for four touchdowns and ran for another, completing 10 of 11 passes for 157 yards,

Haltom Buffalos are coming to town.

He would have gotten more, but Dodge – viewing the prostrate foe before him – took the opportunity to give his impressive sophomore quarterback, Kaden Anderson, some playing time.

In fact, Anderson (8 of 10, 94 yards) took the field for the Dragons’ third possession. He was joined by backup running back Kannon Kadi, who subbed for Owen Allen during the remainder of the night.

Anderson didn’t waste much time, lofting a 39-yard pass to RJ Maryland, who raced it to the end zone for his third TD of the game. Maryland caught only three passes all night – two from Holden and the last from Anderson – but all resulted in touchdowns on consecutive drives.

Caretaker role

Holden would return for the rest of the first half. Anderson handled the caretaker role from there.

Kicker Joe McFadden provided the only real diversion for Dragon fans during the desultory second half. When an Anderson-led drive stalled during the final period, McFadden booted a 48-yard field goal, his longest of the season.

By virtue of its District 4-6A championship, Carroll will host its first playoff game at Dragon Stadium against the Haltom Buffalos (5-4, 5-2 in District 3-6A). If it wins that contest, and it surely should, it probably will face a team from my past, the legendary Permian Panthers.

The Panthers (7-2, 5-1 in 2-6A) captured the district crown in the West Texas district known in my youth as the Little Southwest Conference, falling only to the Abilene Eagle in district play. They aren't the formidable juggernaut they were years ago, however, and the Dragons have defeated them handily in more recent matchups. If we get past Permian, Carroll could face Arlington Martin in Round Two and, if they're still pumping and jumping, perhaps the Allen Eagles or Euless Trinity Trojans in Round Three. 

Beyond that, well, who knows? Best to focus on the opponent before them and let the rest come as may. Suffice to say, a rugged road lies ahead, but then, it always does in Division I.

Loaded with talent

Division I, the UIL’s big-school category, always is loaded with talented, well-coached teams. It will take luck as well as skill to survive that gauntlet all the way to state.

Carroll certainly has the offensive firepower to make the journey with Ewers and his receiving corps and with the hard-charging Allen. But can its under-sized defense, although vastly improved from the beginning of the season, corral the offensive behemoths of Division I?

That remains to be seen. Carroll has captured lightning in a bottle before so who knows what can happen. Realistically, however, the odds are long.

It was chilly in Dragon Stadium last night, and only a relatively sparse crowd braved the cold for the prospects of a blowout. But it was good to be back in my green seat. COVID and some family responsibilities have prevented me from attending many games this year. I didn’t realize how much I had missed them until last night.

With the darkest days of COVID ahead, I hope we can get through the playoffs without disruption. They’ll already stretch beyond Christmas for perhaps the first time ever.

But worrying about it won’t help, so let’s focus on the first round. It’s the Dragons versus the Buffalos next Friday in Dragon Stadium. What fun!

Stay safe everyone, and … Go Dragons!

Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, Part 4

 

An ornament for winners

When Ethan was a youngster, he sampled all the sports: soccer, T-ball, basketball, even inline hockey. But the first time he walked onto a football field, everything clicked.

He loved playing the game, and I loved watching him.

When I was in the seventh grade, my mother – fearful I would be hurt – forbid me from coming out for football, this relegating me to geekdom in my football-crazy hometown. I harbored resentment for that decision for much of my life.

I vowed that if my son wanted to play football, he damned well would. Surprisingly, Marice went along with the idea. Ethan joined a flag-football league and was happy as a lark. During his second year, his team won the rec league championship.

I knew what was coming. “Dad,” he said some time later, “I want to hit somebody.”

So tackle football, here we came. Ethan eventually ended up on the Green Dragons, coached by a volunteer named Jeff Miller. Miller had three sons who went on to play varsity for Carroll. He knew the game, was a natural teacher and liked the kids. They, in turn, adored him.

By the sixth grade, Ethan was developing into a pretty good wide receiver until he received a hairline fracture of his forearm during a game. That’s when I discovered just how tough my son was. He prowled the sidelines, itching to return, which he did a couple of weeks later, wearing a green-colored cast. The referees made him encase it in bubble wrap to prevent him from using it as a club. (He would have, too.)

With his late-season help, the Green Dragons won the “Super Bowl” – the Dragon Youth Football championship played each year on the hallowed ground of Dragon Stadium.

Ethan went on to play football in middle school. In Carroll ISD, all schools at every level have the Dragon as their mascot. Moreover, the fundamentals and nomenclature that Ethan learned in the Green Dragons were the same ones employed by coaches throughout the program, from DYF to high school. Such coordination and continuity is rare. It’s one of the reasons Southlake has won eight state football championships.

For years, I had harbored dreams of joining the varsity fathers who are in charge of the huge, inflated Dragon helmet that the team runs through before each game and after halftime. That was not to be, however.

During the first game of his 8^th grade season, Ethan received a concussion when an opposing player kicked him in the head as he lay on the ground after a play, sidelining him for the rest of the year. He suffered post-concussive symptoms, missed two weeks of school and battled terrible headaches for months afterward.

He came back his freshman year and played the entire season, but his ordeal had robbed him of his love of the game. Ethan eventually traded his shoulder pads for a lacrosse stick. But that’s another story.

This ornament was made by a team mom to commemorate the Green Dragons’ Super Bowl win in 2006. I look at it with both sadness and pride. Sadness at the suffering my son experienced for a sport he once loved. And pride at the strength, courage and grace with which he endured it.

Christmas tree, O Christmas tree: Part 3

Forward, march!

When Rachel reached high school, she decided to join the Southlake Carroll Dragon Marching Band, a decision I heartily endorsed.

I remembered the rigid social hierarchy that rules every high school, and I worried about how my smart, beautiful but terribly shy daughter would adapt. I believed being part of an institution like the marching band – with its prominent role in the centerpiece of most high schools, Friday night football – would be just the ticket to give her a sense of belonging that I had never felt in high school.

So she became a member of the Dragon Band’s clarinet section, where she met Katie, who became her very best friend. She marched all four years and had a grand time, particularly in the stands with her band mates during football games. She never was an enthusiastic marcher.

As a freshman, she marched all the way to Southlake’s seventh state football championship. That same season, she performed with the band during one of the Metroplex’s most legendary football contests – the matchup between Carroll and the Euless Trinity Trojans during the second round of the 2006 playoffs.

That game, between two reigning state champions (one in Division I and the other in Division II), was played before a record-setting crowd at Texas Stadium. Those lucky enough to fight their way through the traffic jams that choked access to the stadium saw a stem-winder of a game, one of the best most of us had ever seen. It ended when the trailing Dragons blew up a fake Trojan punt in the closing minutes and went on to score.

A year or two later, Rachel was in a theater class when the teacher asked her students if they had ever performed before an audience before, for any reason. A number of students, including Rachel, raised their hands.

“An audience of more than 25?” the teacher asked. A few hands went down.

“How about an audience of more than 100?” Now only a few hands stayed in the air.

“More than a 1,000?” Every hand came down save Rachel’s.

“And how many people have you performed before, Miss Gunnels? And where?” the skeptical teacher asked.

“More than 45,000,” my darling daughter answered with a grin. “At Texas Stadium. With the band.”

 I think we got this ornament at a fund-raising table during a Christmas band concert. It depicts a musician in the band’s old uniform. The band got fancy new unis when Rachel was a senior, an upgrade applauded by most. But I always liked the more traditional -- OK, more old-fashioned -- ones better.

 

Christmas tree, O Christmas tree: Part 2

 

A few of my favorite things

Like all working parents, Marice and I (mostly Marice) struggled to arrange childcare for Rachel and Ethan before they were old enough for kindergarten.

We relied mostly on playschools and mom’s-day-out programs run by local churches. By and large, they were clean, well-run safe havens for our kids. And my son and daughter loved the games, lessons and interaction with other kids. It was a win-win.

Marice worried about the religious indoctrination the nice Christian ladies who ran the schools might try to instill in our impressionable Jewish kids. But with few exceptions (First Baptist Grapevine, you know who you are), they mostly stuck to basic playschool curricula. Both kids knew the alphabet and could count to 100 by the time they got to regular school.

There was some consternation when Ethan came home one day singing “Jesus Loves Me.” But that turned out to be the only religious lesson that stuck with him. Besides, I told a worried Marice, it’s a pretty catchy tune.

For the record, both my kids when to Hebrew School at their synagogue, seemingly unscathed by their close encounters with Christian doctrine. And later, both performed brilliantly, Rachel at her Bat Mitzvah and Ethan at his Bar Mitzvah.

One of the benefits of the playschool experience was that the kids came home every Christmas with homemade ornaments featuring their school photograph. By the looks of them, the teachers did most of the creative work, leaving the glitter, glue and beads to the kids.

Here are a few of them. We have almost a score scattered all over the tree. Marice thinks I’m nuts for keeping them all these years, but how on God’s earth can I throw away such precious relics of a time gone by?

Christmas tree, O Christmas tree: Part 1

 

The Beast in all its glory

This is The Beast, the nine-foot Christmas tree I spend two days erecting and decorating every season. It’s a beauty all right, but it’s also a beast.

Every tree limb must be attached, its branches first carefully arranged to get the full, real-tree effect and to conceal the strong, metal poles that support it. Then almost 1,000 lights must be strung through its length and breadth to achieve the desired “glow” effect. Finally, hundreds of ornaments my family has accumulated over the years have to be carefully, lovingly spread over its wide expanse.

It dominates the front room it occupies, just to the left of our front door and entrance hall. In truth, it’s too big for our house, designed for a much grander, much more expansive space. But for more than 10 years, I’ve muscled it out of its storage space in our garage – which requires an extensive reorganization of the junk we consider our valued belongings – and pulled its component pieces out of its canvas bag.

Love-hate

It would be accurate to say I have a love-hate relationship with it, one that sadly will probably end after this weird Christmas season is over.

Decorating the tree has always been my job. When Marice and I first were married, she banned trees and all Christmas decorations from the apartments we lived in at the time. She’s Jewish and always has regarded Christmas and the décor of the season with deep suspicion.

Over the years, I waged a guerilla campaign to break down her resistance, bringing home small, innocuous decorations and surreptitiously installing them – a snowman here, a berry bush there. Angels and creches were out of the question, sure to bring down the wraith of the patriarchs upon me.

Meanwhile, I patiently and repeatedly argued that to many people, Christmas is a secular holiday. The Santa Claus in “The Night Before Christmas,” I said, is not a religious figure. (My argument frequently was undermined when the signs of “Jesus is the reason for the Season” began to proliferate.

The tide finally turned when Rachel, my first born, arrived. My wife, who is the world’s greatest mother, Jewish or otherwise, found that she couldn’t deny her children the wonder and joy of Christmas. We put up our first tree by the time Rachel was 3 or so – old enough to understand all about Santa.

Hands-off

Despite that, Marice has remained steadfast in her refusal to participate in decorating the house for Christmas. She is an enthusiastic partner in bedecking the Gunnels Manse for Halloween, but when it comes to Christmas, she is strictly hands-off. While her parents were alive, the fact that we had a Christmas tree was a deeply held state secret.

Of course, she holds veto power that she exercises when she feels I have overdone it a bit, which occurs with some frequency. The mantlepiece, for instance, has been declared a garland-free zone. But generally speaking, she is a benevolent dictator and I am her grateful vassal.

Our Christmas tree is more than just a centerpiece of our holiday décor. It provides a touchstone to the Gunnels family’s past, a residing place for our memories. It’s a symbol of our devotion to each other and our love.

Many of the ornaments that hang from The Beast’s branches have a story to tell.  They trigger the sluggish neurons in our brains and harken back to the happy time when our children were small, our parents still were alive and the vestiges of our own youth still lingered.

It will be with regret – but a certain amount of relief – that I bid adieu to The Beast. Frankly, it has become too much to tackle for a man of my advanced years.

I reach my allotted “three score and 10” next year, and my yearly wrestling match with The Beast has left me a bruised and aching man. A pinched nerve in my neck is a reminder that I’ve got no business toting boxes from the attic and climbing ladders to reach the top of the damned tree.

To the curb

So once we’ve toasted the New Year, I’ll take down the ornaments and store them safely away. Then I’ll bundle up The Beast and take it to the curb, where the junk dealers that prowl our neighborhood can cart it off for some other family to enjoy.

I anticipate shedding a tear or two in the process, but it can’t be helped. Time marches on, and next year The Beast’s replacement will be smaller and easier to assemble for a retired old man.

To give The Beast a proper sendoff, I’ve decided to feature between now and Christmas some of its ornaments, along with a brief description of why they delight and dazzle the Gunnels clan each year.

It will be a way to say good-bye to an old friend and perhaps provide a little diversion and a dash of Christmas magic in a season darkened by death, disease and bitter political divisions. For best results, I recommend an eggnog soaked in rum and bourbon or an old, single-malt scotch.

Merry Christmas everyone!