Three or four nights a year, Mr. Vaughn would show up at LAHS wrestling matches, grab the microphone, and make up nicknames for high school kids he had never met. These name weren't particularly creative -- I was "Oscar Mayer," our 215-pounder was "Mack Diesel." Whether he noticed it or not, the black kids on the teams always seemed to have race-based nicknames -- Willie "Night Train" Howard, Amir "Dark Prince" Noble, Tony "Lights Out" Suber.
Mr. Vaughn spent his mornings sitting outside the Italian deli, which happened to be owned by wrestling coach Nick Testa, who kept all the team trophies behind the counter. Last Friday, Jesse Lewin and I decided to see what all the fuss was about and take up Mr. Vaughn's old post.
We got some free shirts out of the deal, made the Town Crier's Sidewalk Interview and reminisced about favorite deli-related moments. Mine has to be when Bubba, in the middle of a lunch rush, loudly asked whether employee Arcia Dorosti was "the one with the 14-year-old girlfriend." (He was). Others include the day Nick sold the deli and gave away all the old trophies. I thought it would be cool walking through downtown Los Altos carrying a trophy, even if it was for something I had done in high school. For some reason, the girl lying in the park in a bikini did not seem to agree with me.
Her loss, I suppose.
Anyway, with the successful completion of Deli Day, two trips down Adobe Creek, and one embarrassing experience getting lit up on the court by a group of middle-aged Mormons, I fear I am slowly completing the list of clean Los Altos fun that doesn't involve high school water polo. I have a few more months left before I leave. Any suggestions?