In this dream I was transported back to Brooklyn where in a street football game, I as a quarterback, after throwing touchdowns to various players in a high scoring but close game, threw the winning touchdown to a tall, gangly black 13 year old boy named Todd Myerson. He was jumping up and down with joy as he scored that touchdown and we as a team excitedly joined him.
Todd was having knee problems and I purposely picked him to throw to perhaps because it was the unexpected move or perhaps because I was sympathetic having had a few knee problems of my own. While I saw his image, and that vaguely of some other players, I did not see my own. But the last time I recall playing ball in Brooklyn it was 1957, I was 12 and the game was what it almost always was, stick ball, not football.
As I awoke from that dream, my right knee was a bit sore, apparently from having slept on it wrong and in the morning, the soreness was gone. Why long ago Brooklyn, why football, why a player named Todd Myerson I have no idea.
Dick
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