Frank Gifford, Father Dudley & Me

Growing up on 83^rd Street I had two ball players’ photos on display that I cut out of magazines, Frank Gifford and Mickey Mantle. I edged the players’ bodies carefully with a scissor and glued Frank and Mickey onto construction paper and scotch taped them to my bedroom wall.  Mantle died when Mom suctioned him from the wall during one of her vacuuming assaults. Following that tragedy, I removed Frank from his spot at my eye level and stood on my dresser and re-taped him near the ceiling well above my short mother’s reach. Here, for the first time in fifty years, "Frank Gifford on Construction Paper" by Tommy Pryor in 1964. 

Met #16 at a book signing five years ago. Gifford was charming. We shared our Father Benedict Dudley stories. Father Dudley was the pastor of my church, the chaplain for the New York Football Giants, a friend of Frank’s and one of Wellington Mara’s best pals. The photo above is Father Dudley and me after my Confirmation on 82nd Street in 1963.

Knowing Father Dudley, gave me a special connection to the owner of the Giants and my own inside seat with the team, at least in my head. I was Father Dudley’s go-to altar boy at St. Stephen’s. On Giant home game Sundays, he liked flying through Mass so he could hurry up to Yankee Stadium. I was quick and efficient with the altar chores during Mass and hummed through the Latin prayers. Father Dudley’s 21 minute Mass with extra altar wine was a kid’s favorite religious duty. You barely had time to get bored.

Frank had a long belly laugh, when I told him Fr. Dudley threw me off the altar during Mass, when he caught me entertaining my friends in the front pew by making fart noises with the plastic altar card.

Frank told me about living in the Grand Concourse Hotel during the football season and walking down 161th Street to the Stadium's players entrance with a coffee he bought in a deli off Walton Avenue. I told him about hanging out with my father at the hotel's bar waiting for the players to drop in after the game with my heart beating on the outside of my chest. Frank signed my NY Times story, "The Headlock That Won For the Giants," then Borders bookstore staff kicked me out  of the place.

If you enjoy my stories please check out my memoir, "I Hate the Dallas Cowboys - tales of a scrappy New York boyhood." Available atLogos Book Store or online at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

The book has 109 Amazon five star reviews out of 109 total reviews posted. We're pitching a perfect game. My old world echoes TV's "The Wonder Years" ~ just add taverns, subways and Checker cabs.

You can also purchase my photography portfolio,"River to River - New York Scenes From a Bicycle" on Amazon.

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August 20th @ 7:30pm I'm telling a few good ones atApryl Miller & Friends Summer Reading Series #9 Feat. Thomas Pryor.  Send Apryl an RSVP to learn the address ~ apryl@aprylmiller.com

Father Benedict Dudley & The New York Giants Dark Ages

Tommy punts while Pop ponders a hard Math problem

Owning a four game losing streak in professional football is the equivalent of losing 40 straight games in professional baseball. It's 25 percent of your team's season. The New York Giants four game losing streak makes me blue.

The losing stretch reminds me of the bad old days, before Pete Rozelle forcefully escorted Wellington & Tim Mara across the dance floor to their new general manager, George Young.

I'm old enough to vaguely remember the Giants glory years coming to a close in 1963. Then the dark age: from 1964 through 1980 the Giants were terrible except for one tease in 1970 when the George "Straight to Hell" Allen led L.A. Rams beat the Giants in the last game of the season denying them the N.F.L.'s Eastern Conference crown, and worse, giving the crown to the Anti-christs from Dallas.

Below are the first few paragraphs of a Sports Illustrated article from September 25, 1972, about the New York Giants bad times.

Rory facing camera in Yankee Staium bleachers 1966

A cool Yorkville related thing in the article is a prominent character is Father Benedict J. Dudley. Father Dudley was the pastor of St. Stephen of Hungary Church on East 82nd Street, and he served me my first communion and I served him as his altar boy in mass. Father Dudley was also the Chaplain for the New York Giants & the New York Rangers and one of Wellington Mara's closest friends.

It's a good read, but I'd prefer the Giants put a little winning streak together starting next week.

Tommy & Father Bendict J. Dudley 1963

It's Just One Man's Family

Wellington Mara is moving his beloved—if baffling—Giants to New Jersey, hoping others will love them, too.

by Robert H. Boyle

Father Dudley said the 6:30 a.m. Mass and then looked in on the St. Francis of Assisi

Breadline on Manhattan's West 31st Street that has been running since 1929—the oldest breadline in the world, according to Father Dudley. Not scheduled to hear confessions that day, Father Dudley got into his car and drove to the Giant training camp in New Jersey. There he watched the workouts, checked on the progress of the rookies and talked with his friend, Wellington Mara, the president of the team. Father Benedict Dudley has been a fixture around the Giants since 1932 when a man saw him standing in the bleacher ticket line at the old Polo Grounds and said, "Take this, Father." It was a box-seat ticket right on the 50-yard line. There were three or four other men in the box, and Father Dudley kept up a running commentary on the performances of the players and the progress of the game. When one of the men allowed that Father Dudley certainly knew a lot about professional football, Father Dudley said, "I used to see the Frankford Yellow Jackets play when I lived in Philadelphia." It turned out that Father Dudley was sitting in the box of a very close friend of Tim Mara's, and from then on he never had to stand in the bleacher ticket line again. Another priest, Father Kevin O'Brien, who was a professor of physics at Fordham, has always hung around the Giants, too. He became known as the defensive priest; Father Dudley was the offensive priest. Once at a dinner in Milwaukee the late Fred Miller, president of the Miller Brewing Co. and himself a Catholic, introduced Father Dudley as the offensive priest. Father Dudley drew a chortle when he cautioned Miller on pronouncing the first syllable offensive. "The word has two meanings," he said. In the course of years, Father Dudley has become not only honorary chaplain to the Giants but to what Wellington Mara calls "the Giant Family."

To finish Robert H. Boyle's article go to this link:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1086564/index.htmin

"I'm Going Be A Priest!"

I was fascinated by the mysteries and rituals of the Catholic Church. Serving mass as an altar boy, I believed and was awed by the supernatural transformations performed by the priest. My favorite priest was Father Benedict J. Dudley. I prayed that my name would be next to his Sunday mass on the weekly altar boy schedule that was delivered to us every Friday afternoon by Brother Albert (see my story, "It's Not a Blouse!"). Father Dudley was our pastor, he was tall, athletic, graceful and carried himself regally. Father Dudley was no nonsense (once he teased me, but I thought he took it back.) and you knew you were on the altar with the big guy when you assisted his mass. Until I was 10 not yet 11, I gave long thought to becoming a priest. Every time, I said, "I'm going to be a priest!" in front of my mother, her smile lit up. Every time I said it in front of my father, his face twitched.

.

Father Dudley was the reason I obsessed about the priesthood, and it practically had nothing to do with what I said above. Yes, he dressed sharp, but when he relaxed he wore cool sandals, a brown tunic robe and a white rope belt. This was an outfit that interested me. I looked into the process to becoming a priest. A Franciscan Vocation is a vocation to follow Christ after the manner of St. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226 A.D.), by living the religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. I was fairly obedient, loved girls and liked my stuff. So obedient would be easy, giving up girls, tough, and losing my stuff, tough as well. But look what I was getting in return.

After Labor Day, we'd go back to school, and the football and hockey season would get going. I was nuts over the New York Giants and crazy about the New York Rangers. When I was very young, the Yankees were in the World Series in 1960, 1961, 1962, 1963 & 1964. That's straight through 5th grade, I was spoiled. But my heart always led me back to the Giants. I carried a football with me year round, I dreamt about Yankee Stadium's gridiron, I could taste the dirt. I was hooked.

If I served Father Dudley's mass, this is how the day played out.

9am, Father Dudley liked to advance the mass chop-chop. All his movements and Latin responses were sharp and quick. I had to be on the ball. When it was time for me to put water and wine in the priest's golden chalice, Father Dudley would give me a couple of head nods to keep the wine coming.

Most other priests liked a little wine with their water, Father Dudley favored the grape. I'd fill the chalice half way with wine and only then would he lift it and return to the altar. After mass, I'd run out to the parking lot and wait for Father Dudley. He'd come through the rectory door in a sharp black suit, a black Homburg hat and black shoes with a military polish. He walked like he owned a bank. I'd say hi, he'd wave, then he'd get into a black sedan and drive down 82nd Street.

I'd play football in the street until 12:35pm, then get my transistor radio and listen to Marty Glickman announce the home New York Giant game at Yankee Stadium. At some point in the broadcast Marty would say,"On the sideline rooting the Giants on is the team chaplain, Father Benedict Dudley, close friend of the owner Wellington Mara." I'd flip out. My Father Dudley was a close friend with the man they named the NFL football, "The Duke," after, who also owned the team. Not only that, Father Dudley was close friends with Vince Lombardi and Toots Shor, and famous announcers, like Ted Husing and Red Barber. His Sunday did not end at the Giant game. after leaving Yankee Stadium, he'd have dinner at Toots Shor, his childhood friend from Philadelphia. TootsShor, the most famous sports and celebrity restaurant in New York City. Later, after our dinner, Dad would take me to the New York Ranger hockey game at the old Madison Square Garden at 49th Street & 8th Avenue in a Checker cab. I'd see Father Dudley pacing behind the Ranger bench with the Ranger coach, Emile Francis. He was the Rangers chaplain, too.

This is how I would spend my fall Sundays, I would replace Father Dudley, If this was living the religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, I was in. I made plans to become a Franciscan. Made plans to replace Father Dudley in his duties. Not sure what, but something got in the way.

Read about Father Dudley here:

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1086564/index.htm

http://web.mac.com/jtlprod/Ted_Husing/Home_.html

Come to Cornelia Street Cafe tonight @ 6pm for hardy storytelling led by Barbara Aliprantis. I'm telling my Father Dudley tale.

Tuesday, Jan 11 - 6:00PM

STORYTELLING
Barbara Aliprantis
Jim Hawkins ; Elizabeth Rowe; Barbara Aliprantis

BARBARA ALIPRANTIS, Curator/Host of this series since January 1997 is an award-winning nationally acclaimed storyteller, honored at New York City Hall in the year 2000 for "her distinguished body of work...for her commitment to sharing immigrant's experiences and multicultural folklore for both hearing and non-hearing audiences around the country." She is also the recipient of an Oracle Service Award from the National Storytelling Network "for exemplary service and significant contributions to her community through storytelling." Tonight she debuts a snippet from a new cycle of family stories about �The Jersey Shore

Father Benedict Dudley & The New York Giants Dark Age

Owning a four game losing streak in professional football is the equivalent of losing 40 straight games in professional baseball. It's 25 percent of your team's season. The New York Giants four game losing streak makes me blue.
.
The losing streak reminds me of the bad old days, before Pete Rozelle forcefully escorted Wellington & Tim Mara across the dance floor to their new general manager, George Young.
.
I'm old enough to vaguely remember the Giants glory years coming to a close in 1963. Then the dark age. From 1964 through 1980 the Giants were terrible except for one tease in 1970 when the George "Straight to Hell" Allen led L.A. Rams beat the Giants in the last game of the season denying them the N.F.L.'s Eastern Conference crown, and worse, giving the crown to the Anti-christs from Dallas.
.
Below is the first few paragraphs of a Sports Illustrated article from September 25, 1972, about the New York Giants bad times.
.
A cool Yorkville related thing in the article is a prominent character is Father Benedict J. Dudley. Father Dudley was the pastor of St. Stephen of Hungary Church on East 82nd Street, and he served me my first communion and I served him as his altar boy in mass. Father Dudley was also the Chaplain for the New York Giants & the New York Rangers and one of Wellington Mara's closest friends.
.
It's a good read, but I'd prefer the Giants put a little winning streak together starting next week.
.
.
It's Just One Man's Family
.
Wellington Mara is moving his beloved—if baffling—Giants to New Jersey, hoping others will love them, too
.
by Robert H. Boyle


Father Dudley said the 6:30 a.m. Mass and then looked in on the St. Francis of Assisi breadline on Manhattan's West 31st Street that has been running since 1929—the oldest breadline in the world, according to Father Dudley. Not scheduled to hear confessions that day, Father Dudley got into his car and drove to the Giant training camp in New Jersey. There he watched the workouts, checked on the progress of the rookies and talked with his friend, Wellington Mara, the president of the team.Father Benedict Dudley has been a fixture around the Giants since 1932 when a man saw him standing in the bleacher ticket line at the old Polo Grounds and said, "Take this, Father." It was a box-seat ticket right on the 50-yard line. There were three or four other men in the box, and Father Dudley kept up a running commentary on the performances of the players and the progress of the game. When one of the men allowed that Father Dudley certainly knew a lot about professional football, Father Dudley said, "I used to see the Frankford Yellow Jackets play when I lived in Philadelphia." It turned out that Father Dudley was sitting in the box of a very close friend of Tim Mara's, and from then on he never had to stand in the bleacher ticket line again.Another priest, Father Kevin O'Brien, who was a professor of physics at Fordham, has always hung around the Giants, too. He became known as the defensive priest; Father Dudley was the offensive priest. Once at a dinner in Milwaukee the late Fred Miller, president of the Miller Brewing Co. and himself a Catholic, introduced Father Dudley as the offensive priest. Father Dudley drew a chortle when he cautioned Miller on pronouncing the first syllable in offensive. "The word has two meanings," he said.In the course of years, Father Dudley has become not only honorary chaplain to the Giants but to what Wellington Mara calls "the Giant Family."

To finish Robert H. Boyle's article go to this link:

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1086564/index.htm