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I became a sports writer in 1988, around the time I first started dating my wife, and was intrigued by her alma mater's football program, headed by the legendary Chris Bockrath, even if she could have cared less.
Until the school's closure in 1993, at which point it "merged," with Bishop Kenrick to become Kennedy-Kenrick, which now "merged" with St. Pius X to become Pope John Paul II, I was a regular on the sidelines.
Covering games at A.A. Garthwaite field in Conshohocken gave me that slice of Americana feel, like I was figure in a Norman Rockwell painting.
My best memories were Thanksgiving Day, when I would cover a game there and then walk 3-4 block back to the childhood home of my future wife for some bird and stuffing and fights with her family over what to dial up on the remote control.
After the school closed, I received a package. The note read: "Wear it with sadness, wear it with pride. Thanks for the coverage. A Kennedy fan."
Inside the package was the jersey you saw on "Football Friday."
It barely fits me these days, but I still wear it with some sadness but a whole lot of pride.