A Fordham Cap

Alas, I no longer have the Fordham U. ballcap I bought about 25 years ago. I do have a story about it though.

Teaching at Moravian College, I would sometimes use spring break to get a day in the city. Sometimes I’d have an agenda, but mostly I just wanted to feel the vibe on the streets. From Bethlehem, PA, it’s an easy bus ride to the PABT. Philadelphia is closer, but harder to get to (unfortunately).

It’s a nice enough March day in the late 1990s, but in Manhattan it seems always to be chillier than I expect it will be. Departing my bus, I’m walking up 8th Avenue. No special destination in mind, but before I can even think of one I start to feel underdressed. Not in terms of fashion, in terms of comfort. My outfit of slacks, dress shirt, and sport coat will, I believe, make me blend in, not look like the out-of-towner I am. But it’s not warm enough.

As I pass the shops along the street, I think a t-shirt might do the trick. But I don’t want a total one-off, like an “I Love NY” shirt or one that says “Do I Look Like a Fucking People Person?” which are plentiful and cheap. I remember that Fordham University has a campus at Lincoln Center. Maybe they have a bookstore. Maybe I can buy a t-shirt there, one that would be comfortable but also wearable at home.

To Lincoln Center I walk, and yes, there is a bookstore. Indeed they have t-shirts. The best buy, though, is a combination shirt and cap: a grey t-shirt with “Fordham” stenciled across the chest in cardinal and a ballcap with “Fordham” stitched on it in white, more or less like the one pictured above. Perfect!

I go into the rest room, take off my coat and dress shirt, slip on the t-shirt, put my shirt and jacket back on and don the ballcap. Ready to hit the streets for sure!

I visit a museum or two (I don’t remember which, and it doesn’t really matter for the rhetorical point of this story) and catch the subway downtown. Find a bar/restaurant in the Village to grab a bite and a pint. All good. But once I finish my meal, it seems too early to catch the bus back to Bethelehem. I wonder what I can do for a couple of hours. It occurs to me that Pitt is playing UConn in the Big East men’s basketball tournament at Madison Square Garden. Pitt had a pretty good team at the time, and UConn was always good. I catch another train uptown and make for MSG.

There is a biggish crowd outside, but I make my way through it and find the ticket windows. I have no idea what a ticket to the game will cost, but I’m ready to buy one on the more economical end of the scale. As I get within two or three people from the window, a face appears and announces “No more tickets.” The game is sold out.

Like other would-be spectators, I stand there wondering what to do. At which point I hear a loud voice crying, “Tickets! Two tickets for UConn- Pitt!” I turn and see a big 50-something white man wearing a Boston Red Sox cap, striding through the lobby waving tickets in his hand and saying again, “Tickets for UConn-Pitt! Who wants to buy?” I stop him and say “I’ll buy one from you.”

“How much will you give me?” he replies. I have no idea. I don’t ask where the seats are. I say, “Uh, twenty-five dollars?” Whereupon he looks at me incredulously, throws back his head and bellows, “Twenty-five bucks! Twenty-five bucks!” Then he looks around at the people who are there and hollers, “Can you believe this? Twenty-five bucks!” Then the clincher. He laughs loud and says, “Twenty-five bucks! What do you expect from a guy wearing a Fordham cap?”