During the fall of our sophomore year, After a JV football game in Baton Rouge, Coach Loup took the whole team to a Baton Rouge Burger King to celebrate our victory. He was particularly happy with our game that night and allowed anyone to order two Whoppers. Some of the linemen even bummed a third one off of some of the defensive backs. Being the hungry jocks that we were, we all ate our fill and piled back on the bus. Louis Cefolia and I sat next to each other, behind Derek Guilbeau, towards the back of the bus and were enjoying a festive, abiet sweaty/smelly ride back to the CHS field house.
Well, the old faithful CHS Athletic Department bus is dutifully rolling home down I-12 with a bunch happy athletes. It was a little cold to have the windows down, but far too smelly to keep them UP. Somewhere in the vicinty of Denham Springs, in the darkness, 260 lb. Derek Guilbeau stands up and says "I feel sick!" Before we realize what is happening, his bulky shadow quickly turns toward the open window and starts involuntarily yaking his past few meals out the window!
The first problem was that our window (directly behind his) was open. The second problem was the 65mph wind blowing down the side of the bus, richocheting outbound projectiles back into downwind open windows. In those days I always thought of myself as a manly defensive end, but as the result of problem 1 and 2 hit us in the face (literally), I remember Louis and I both screaming like school girls, as we tried to manuver out of the way. This didn't seem to help much, so as we continued to dodge the rest of Derek's dinner, I was able to get our window up. I was vaguely aware of pandemonium breaking out behind us, as well. As Derek began heave #2, and the output of it again sprayed us in the face, it became apparent that he was merely facing the window, and not putting his it head out of the window. Louis and I tackled both him like lose ball on our own 2 yard line, and with all of our remaining might, shoved his head out of the window until his big shoulders stopped us. I remember being sorely disappointed that I couldn't get his whole body out of that small window. I've never wanted soap and hotwater so badly in my life.
Funny thing was that old bus didn't get washed a whole lot. 2 1/2 years later, the night of our graduation, I remember walking, diploma in hand, out of the stadium through the field house gate, for the last time. As I passed the team bus, there were painful yet funny memories of that night still streaked down the back left side windows of that bus.
Bus memories....
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