St Thomas More High School - Utopian Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

 - Class of 1953

Page 74 of 96

 

St Thomas More High School - Utopian Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA) online collection, 1953 Edition, Page 74 of 96
Page 74 of 96



St Thomas More High School - Utopian Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA) online collection, 1953 Edition, Page 73
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Page 74 text:

Sensing the tenseness of the moment, Frank breezed into the group calling out a cheery- Hi, Luke--fellows. I want you to meet a good friend of mine-Arthur Kelly. Art, you now are looking at the hope for the future, properly branded by good old Washington High. Don't examine them too closely, he warned in the loudest of stage whispers, they're not pedi- greed stockf' You can say that again, Frank, and louder. The pedigreed-bull--is to the rear, Dan said heatedly. '5Sorry, Mr. Kelly, nice to know you. Same here, the other boys intoned. Art Kelly chose to pass over Dan's caustic remark without comment. Come on, guys, can that 'Mr.', what am I, a grey beard? Art's the name. Glad to meet you fellows--in spite of Frank's recommendation. And you, too-Bull -bowing to Tommy. But Tommy was in no mood for a gracious reaction to Kelly's humor. He scowled at him. Wise guy, he muttered aloud, folding his arms across his bare chest. Sorry, no oH'ense intended, I was just kidding. Tommy, thinking over the awkwardness of the situation and realizing how awkward, too, the two visitors must feel, nodded an acceptance of Kelly's apology. Even he felt the sincerity of the cleancut, virile college senior. He just wasn't the wise-guy type, and Tommy knew it, as he stood behind the other boys who were sizing Kelly up. He grudgingly admitted to himself that Kelly measured up to all the requirements of a fellow who knew how to handle himself. He was a big man, yet not with an out-door kind of bigness. Broad shoulders, trim waist, well- built and lithe, tall and good-featured, about twenty-two, they thought. His handshake was vigorously firm. Little Lou winced at his turn. Gosh, he said, shaking his hand to stimulate the circulation, gosh, he repeated, looking with frank admiration at Kelly. Tommy relaxed and joined the group. What's this? Frank asked, glancing in Tommy's direction and seeing that he was still in his trunks. Swimming meet? Who won? We did, the boys chorused. They mean-I did, Tommy corrected. Well, ah, when you win, you win for every- body here, don t you? Kelly inquired. I guess so, but I don't get that 'we' stuff. 70. They couldn't win a prize in a crackerjack box. How about you? You look as though you should be interested in sports. You're older, too. These guys think that I can win only in my own age- class. I'll beat anybody that plays my game- anybody, do you hear? He turned and faced his fellow-student, his face contorted and his voice shrill with anger. Take it easy, fella, Kelly said. You don't have to prove you're a champ, just-be one. Well, I am one, see. But it seems that I got to prove it every time to these weak sisters. Look at them. They don't have enough wind to blow a football up. Tommy was beside himself, venting in one outburst all his resentment of their treatment of him. He hadn't planned this. He knew that he gave his hand away. Now he was more furious with himself because he had revealed how much their coolness had bothered him. Hoping to save face, he gave his attention to Art Kelly and asked him what sports he was interested in. Oh, I like most sports. Play a little of each in season, I guess, he said quietly. Nice big gym you have here, he continued, endeavoring to change the subject. Play tennis? Tommy persisted. I know it's not in season, but we have a good court in the gym here. Want to-beat-me tomorrow and make your friend's friends and relative happy and contented? How about over here tomorrow after school. I understand you're going to be around for a couple of days. What d'you say? O.K., Tommy, Art said. Maybe you can teach me a couple new plays. I'm always willing to learn, you know. It's a date then, Tommy stated. You're all invited to be present at this match. Bring your cryin' towels with you, you'll look more at home. He slapped his towel tightly around his neck and glared at his school mates. Then without another word, he turned on his heels and went into the showers. Kelly whistled softly, Quite a boy and very temperamental, too. The boys chuckled as they discussed Tom- my's violent reaction. Never figured I'd ever see old sure-foot off balance. Boy, did you see his face? Luke asked the group. Yeah, Bill agreed, his gander was really . . THE CHELSEA REVIEW

Page 73 text:

. . I 66 UST TAKE a look at him, you might think he was the only one in the school who could swim, said Luke. Worst of it is, he is-at least, the way he does it, Luke continued glumly, contradicting himself. Three other voices, equally glum, agreed with a sad, Yeah! The four school chums were standing by the side of the indoor pool. It was the pride and joy of Washington High. They saw Tommy Phillips streaking through the water like a Hsh, out-distancing all the others. It was the annual swim-meet between Washington High and their arch-rival, St. George's High, who was now trail- ing way behind in points. They watched with mixed emotions. Their school spirit finally over- came their dislike of Phillips, who was hardly the shrinking violet type. He was the best all- round athlete of the school and made certain that everyone knew it. He was a walking self- publicity department. The boys cheered, but they did so only because the school had won. As usual, he wins, said Dan to the rest of the fellows. Did you ever see him lose at anything?', asked Bill. I know I never did. He has already won the five events he was in. I'm not jealousg it's just that he's so conceited about it. What can you do with a guy like that. He's good. He knows it. But, holy cow, what a stinking snob he is. Yeah, as usual he wins, said Little Lou, who was always repeating somebody, and this makes his sixth. Little Lou was the only freshman among them, the rest were seniors. Sounds like they're teaching math to the Frosh this year, Dan remarked. The four boys watched Tommy receive his trophy from the judges, then they turned away and walked back to the locker room. Tom- my came in a few minutes later. Upon seeing them he smiled and said, Won't these amateurs ever learn that they can't match wits with a professional, indicating himself. After we THE CHELSEA REVIEW . BY FREDERICK F. FILBERG, '53 leave, how about coming over to my place for some ping-pong? Maybe one of you could heat me at that. Tommy's sarcasm was like a lash as he whipped their feelings raw. The boys were stunned. They looked at one another in astonishment. How could anyone be so utterly swell-headed? 'It's become such a habit, our losing, that it doesn't bother us anymore, said Luke grimly. The others grinned, appreciating Luke's timely touche to the fullest. Tommy's face fell. He saw his barbed remark missed its target. For the moment, he was speechless. For the boys, it was a moment to treasure. At that, Little Lou spoke up and remarked, 'ilust once l'd like to see you lose, and l'd surely laugh my head off. Well, you can't laugh oil what you don't have, you little punk, and that includes the rest of you, said Tommy scornfully. Maybe if you'd go out for a few things yourselves, you wouldnlt have time to be jealous of my wins. Guess if I lost, I'd be a great guy, eh? l'd be in your class then. You'd like that wouldn't you? A Sorry, Tommy, we wouldn't be able to come over anyway, said Luke, because my brother, Frank, is bringing home a friend from college for a few days. He's coming over here first, though. Maybe we'll have more time to enjoy our laugh later on! Luke little realized how soon that moment would come. Don't bother givin' him a reason for not going to his house. I wouldn't be caught dead there, Bill said. '4Come on, let's go. With that, all four turned their heads to- wards the two young men who had noiselessly entered by the gym door and were walking to- ward them. Their faces brightened up consid- erably as they recognized Frank Brannon, Luke's older brother. Obviously, their arrival was a welcome break in the strained atmosphere. Sparks were flying in all directions and could ignite into anything, unpleasant to be sure, in a jiify. ..69



Page 75 text:

up-thanks to you fellows. You really set off the fuse, Art, when you said, 4You don't have to prove you're a champ' . . . Man, you sure touched a sore spot there. The boys howled their glee. Maybe the spot will get sorer-by tomor- row afternoon, Frank promised. Let's hope and pray. Luke yelled. Yeah, let's hope and -, Lou tried to repeat, but an unanimous shut up on the part of the boys choked oii' into a prayerless gulp. The scholastic outcast trailed the rest as they tramped out of the gym. The next day, they arrived at the gym at three o'clock. Tommy was already there and had set up a tennis net on the court at the far end of the gym. He walked toward them, carry- ing two tennis rackets in his hand. His con- fidence was again in full bloom. He stood astride as he eyed the group coldly. Pick your weapon, Art, but don't worry, I promise not to trounce you too badly. He looked quite natty in his white trunks and T-shirt. Art was dressed in his street clothes. He took off his coat and tie. That's nice of you, Tommy, Art said, swinging his racket to test its weight, maybe I'll he able to do the same for you, real soon. Tommy's face flushed at Art's retortg he turned quickly and went to the end of the court. He Hgured that he would win two out of three games. He served the first game, which he won quite easily . . . almost too easily. The boys shook their heads in desperate silence, but not Frank. He watched with a faint smile on his lips. This is the cat playing with the mouse if ever I saw it played, he chuckled to himself. As the second game progressed, Kelly be- came exceedingly light and swift on his feet. It wasn't long before he out-pointed Tommy completely. All through the first game Tommy had been smiling, but now he was grim and sullen because, for the first time, he had lost a game. This was something entirely new to him. He tasted the salt of defeat in his mouth, and he didn't like it. Dripping with perspiration, he almost frantically wiped his brow time and again. His breath came in gasps as he fought to regain his lost composure. It's just beginner's luck, Art, I'll heat you in the third, he called out. THE CHELSEA REVIEW . . But Kelly only smiled. He served the third game viciously, hitting the balls over Tommy's head, far to his right and to his left. Tommy didn't score a point. He let his racket fall out of his hand. The silence of the group was more painful than their laughter would have been. The older boys quietly congratulated Art, but not Little Lou. Boy, I never saw tennis played like that before, especially against Tommy, he shouted, his voice reverberating in the vastness of the almost empty gym. They shushed him. Frank felt that the time was ripe to break the news. '4How else do you suppose a champ would play? His statement brought such expressions of amazement to their faces that Frank and Art both snickered as they nudged each other. The loud exclamations of surprise on the parts of the boys were topped only by I.ou's shrieking voice, Champ in tennis-you? Ch-ch-champ? Why didn't you tell me? Tommy had heard Lou's question. He came and stood before Kelly, looking first at him and then at Frank. Oh, didn't I tell you? I'll tell you now. then, said Frank. Why, Art won the 1952 ten- nis State championship title last year. You see, Tommy, I knew that meeting up with a real champion would be the only way for you to realize your limitations. I know also that you thought you were a great tennis player, but Art's bad days are better than your best. Sorry it had to be this way. With that, they turned around and started walking toward the exit. They left Tommy standing there. staring ahead, open-mouthed in wonderment. He pawed the floor with his foot as though he were trying to figure out what to do next. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up and found himself alone. With a sudden im- pulse that sprang from a re-awakened knowledge of himself and a new understanding of the meaning and value of friendship, he called out, Hey fellows, wait up. It was a new Tommy Phillips that ran to- ward his friends. The thrill of his discovery had communicated itself to them as they turned as one man and said laughingly, O.K.-Champ- but let's not dallyf' .71

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