Today's MOZEN: The Magic Shoes

Photo AP. Words F LoBuono
(notice the cleats)

He was my absolute favorite. I mean as a kid, I liked all of the NY Giants; Spider Lockhart, Pete Athas, Jack Gregory, and many others whose names have been mostly forgotten by time. But, Ron Johnson was THE man for me. A running back out of the University of Michigan, he was everything I aspired to be as a football player. I even insisted that I wear his uniform number (30) for every team that I played for. He had good size and speed, and was seen as a complete player. And, he added a little dash to his uniform that I thought was just the coolest thing - EVER! He wore blue, kangaroo leather, Puma cleats, complete with "wings". Now, Johnson was not necessarily a "flashy" runner but those cleats gave him a sense of style, of panache'. They were to me like Dorothy's ruby slippers were to her in The Wizard of OZ - magical. No one else on the Giants wore them. In the days before Billy "Whiteshoes" Johnson, no one else in the entire league wore anything even like them (with all due respect to Joe Willie whose white shoes were more of a "gimmick"). I just had to have a pair.

Before the advent of the Internet, I'm not sure exactly how we found unusual items to purchase. But, be that as it may, I somehow discovered that Cosby's Sports, the legendary store still located inside Madison Square Garden at 11 Penn Plaza, actually carried them. Taking public transportation, I made a reconnaissance run to Cosby's to see if it could possibly be true. Sure enough, there they were, on display in the front window. Like most kids would do at a candy shop or toy store, I pressed my nose hard against the glass, and cupped my eyes to get a clear look. Yes, it truly was THEM! They were black, not blue like Johnson's, but that was OK.  They were still soft, kangaroo leather and the black matched better with my uniform anyway- our Fort Lee High School colors were orange and black.. There was only one caveat; they were $50. And, in 1971, fifty bucks for a pair of athletic shoes that you would only wear once a week (game days) was considered outrageous. At least it was considered to be so by my parents. Even my father, who supported all of my my athletic endeavors thought that beyond the pail. They would not "give" me the money. Instead, they used it to teach me a valuable lesson in independence: If you really want those shoes, earn the money and buy them for yourself. I agreed.

I was fourteen. Now, there aren't many jobs, besides paper routes, for kids and I wanted a "real" job. My dad had a connection at Palisades Amusement Park where he worked security part time. Perhaps, he could find me work there. First, I would have to get my "official working papers" to begin at such a young age. I did that through my high school guidance counselor. And, so began my life at work.

My father arranged for me to work at a cotton candy stand in the park. My job would be to make cotton candy in one of the two "booths" designated for that purpose. One was virtually under the roller coaster (not my favorite - WAY too loud) and then other was in front of one of the park's main performing stages (which I liked much better - got to watch the shows!). I was paid $1/hour - off the books - and could eat all of the cotton candy that I wanted - as long as I didn't put it on a paper serving cone. The boss counted the cones and that's how he balanced the days receipts. Funny thing though, I never really liked cotton candy and the thought of rapping it around my hand on a hot summer's day made it even less appealing. Even though my hours were supposed to regulated, since I was working off the books, there was no real way to track them. So, I often wound up working 12 hour days; from 12 pm to 12 am. I would actually walk the mile + to get home from work, at midnight. Remember, I was fourteen! But, that was in a day when it was actually safe for kids to do so.

I remember working long and hard to earn my money. On weekends the park would be packed and I virtually never stopped making cotton candy. I would add sugar in the heated metal drum or spinner and use a paper cone to collect the threads of "cotton" created - endlessly. On hot summer days, the spun sugar (which is what cotton candy IS) would cling to the hair on my arms making me very uncomfortable. One week I actually worked fifty hours. And, my boss paid me $55 - a $5 bonus for working so much! But, it wasn't all bad. Since I was a park employee, I had free access to any ride in the park - not bad for an adventurous kid! Besides, I was earning enough money for my shoes and would even have enough left over to join my teammates for the end of summer football camp (which the school did not pay for). I kept at it because I knew that all the hard work would finally pay off at the end of the summer.

After I collected my final paycheck and thanked the boss for the opportunity, I wasted no time in heading in the City to claim my Holy Grail. My father agreed to drive me and off to the Garden and Cosby's we went together. With great anticipation I remember placing my order with the salesman. He went into the the storeroom to check for my size. I held my breath. When he came out of the back and opened the box, I could smell the leather before I could even see the shoes. It was a divine odor. Then, he pealed back the tissue paper that lined the box - and, there they were - in all their shinny, new glory. I removed them and gently rubbed my fingers up and down their length, marveling in the suppleness of the kangaroo leather. I tried them on. I was transported to the turf at Yankee Stadium (where the Giants still played). They made me feel like winged Mercury! I couldn't wait to wear them in real action. I was sure that they would make me run faster and jump higher - just like Ron Johnson.

When we arrived home, my father suggested that I treat and protect the leather by polishing the shoes with a preservative like mink oil. Of course, I would agree with anything that would keep my babies from harm! So, I did - not once, not twice, but repeatedly through out the day and into the evening. Finally, it was time to bid them good night and get some sleep. I'm sure I probably considered bringing them to bed with me. But, in the end, I thought better of it and just placed them in the clothes closet for the night. I shut the closet door and went upstairs to turn in.

Or, at least I thought that I had closed it.

Apparently, I did not shut it completely. We had a new puppy named Sammy. Sammy must have been about six months old and was curious like most puppies. Well, he surely was about a closet door that was left partially open. At some point during the night, he must have smelled the sweat leather of my new cleats and went in to investigate. What he found, to HIM, was a pair of irresistible chew toys.

When I woke in the morning, I ran downstairs to check on my cleats. Instead of being were I had left them, they were now in the middle of the floor, next to very content looking puppy. He had chewed the heels off of both of them. Gone. Completely. Devoured right up to the laces. Ruined. Worthless. Needless to say, I was not pleased with our little Sammy.

I brought the damaged cleats to the local shoemaker. I thought that if anyone could repair them, this old Italian master might. When I showed them to him, he looked at me and shook his head in a negative fashion. Finally, he said: I'll try. But, the integrity of the shoe is gone. He did his best and actually attempted to create new heels. But, it was no good. The very SHAPE of the shoe had changed and they really became ineffective. I tried using them once in a scrimmage. I applied lots of extra adhesive tape in an attempt to actually keep them on my feet, but to no avail. In fact, I actually blew a coverage during the scrimmage because I was running out of my shoes - literally! What was supposed to make me faster actually inhibited my performance.

I never got to wear my prized possessions in an real game. In fact, after that scrimmage, I never wore them again.

Ron Johnson went on to become, at that time, the leading rusher in NY Giant's football history. Knee injuries would eventually claim his career. And, I still went on to have a decent career as a high school and college football player - even without the magic shoes.