Pennsylvania extends moratorium on evictions, foreclosures

124975632_web1_Brian-Lyons-2

‘Junior fire chief’ Lyons becomes ‘junior trooper’

PLAINS TWP. &mdash; There are several rites of passage that kids go through growing up.
				If you ever stood toe-to-toe for a dare-double-dare-triple-dog dare encounter, you know what I mean. These kids games are harmless, just little tests of one&rsquo;s metal and willingness to do just about anything within reason to be welcomed into the neighborhood group.
				As you get older, you begin to play organized sports and the tests become a bit moire difficult. Again, they are harmless, but along the way you might have to take a fastball to your upper arm. And don&rsquo;t wince or make a sound, or you will be labeled, well, let&rsquo;s say unworthy.
				Then you enter junior high and high school. For me, basketball was a passion. I had some early success because I grew vertically quickly &mdash; hitting an even 6-feet tall at age 11. That pout me at the center position and, since kids my age couldn&rsquo;t reach that high, a rather prolific scorer.
				I was a member of the Junior Barons, a team of 6th, 7th and 8th graders who played before the Wilkes-Barre Barons games at the Kingston Armory. Again, we were tested by each other to be sure we were, again worthy, of being on that team.
				Then along came 9th grade and playing for Coach John &ldquo;Snoggy&rdquo; Mergo, a Plymouth legend. Coach knew his basketball, football and baseball, but at we were playing for him at the end of his illustrious career. Coach was also an assistant coach to the JV and varsity squads.
				Anyway, back in those days, the right of passage for a member of the Plymouth High School Shawnee Indians basketball team was making the varsity. And with that, each player received a pair of Converse Chuck Taylor sneakers. In this era, a pair of &ldquo;Chucks&rdquo; meant you were a player. There were no Nikes, or Pumas, or Reeboks. No sir, Chuck was the name in basketball footwear.
				So it was a Friday afternoon practice. Our PHS 9th grade team was playing Lake-Lehman on Saturday morning for the league championship. Coach Mergo called me over and told me to go downstairs to the locker room to see one of the team managers.
				I went down and it was then that I discovered I was to receive my first pair of school-issued Chuck Taylor Converse All-Star sneakers.
				I was overwhelmed. I couldn&rsquo;t even speak when I was asked what size I took. I had to go to the water fountain to take a drink so I could speak.
				&ldquo;A 10, I think,&rdquo; I said.
				The manager gave me a box and I sat down and opened it to see those glorious Chucks. I laced them up and put them on, tossing aside my U.S. Keds. I thanked the manager and I ran up the steps and returned to practice.
				Those sneakers felt so good on my feet. I was sure they had some sort of power that would improve my game beyond prior heights.
				Not really. I mean, I was still taller than most of the other kids, so I could still put the ball in the basket without much of a problem. The new Chucks really didn&rsquo;t make much of a difference.
				Except that I felt more a part of the team &mdash; the entire team &mdash; 9th graders, JVs and varsity.
				Every year we got a new pair and we never wore them outside. We cherished those sneakers. And sometimes, we would get a second pair during the season.
				Oh yeah, we won the 9th grade title on that Saturday.

Coping with Corona: Hello, I’m Chuck Taylor