Sheffield Boys

This past week, a childhood friend of mine lost his father. It had me reflecting on our time growing up together and how we have traveled together through this somewhat strange and magical journey of peaks and valleys that we call life. I have been blessed by some of the most wonderful friendships in this world. My girlfriends are all a Godsend, each in their own way. They help me navigate motherhood while not letting me forget myself and are always there to lend a supportive ear. I’m grateful for every single one of them coming into my life, and I have a very strong opinion that people should be leery of women who do not have many girlfriends because there is usually a reason why. But this is not a story about my incredible girlfriends. This is a story about my guy friends- the first and most important ones… the Sheffield Boys.

When I was four years old, my family moved to a house my girlfriends would later dub the “bluebird house” on a well-known street in Jackson, Mississippi. The house sat on Sheffield Drive, directly across from my school’s football field, and was surrounded by neighboring homes with other children around mine and my brother’s age. Matching Chevy Caprice Classic station wagons sat parked throughout the driveways while young children of the eighties ran around barefoot and free. There was only one problem – I was the only girl. I’m confident my mother was unsure how this would work out.

Now this particular group of kids in 1985 that ranged from four-years-old to twelve-years-old was casually named the Sheffield Boys by other parents and visiting kids along the way, but in all actuality, the group should have referred to as the Sheffield Boys and one lone girl- me. There I was, a freckled faced four-year-old girl with long, honey-colored pigtails and a room full of barbies, doing everything I could to keep up with the gaggle of boys I was thrown into. Thankfully, my fellow four-year-old partner in crime, Robert, always made sure he dragged me along with the older group to the forbidden dirt bike trails down the street for an intense game of cops and robbers, the full-blown tackle football game in our yard full of sticker grass, the summer bottle rocket battles, or the building of the twenty-foot tree house in the back.

Just to know, the main players of the Sheffield boys were as followed:

Wade- the calm but quick-witted soccer player and future accountant that loved watching CMT as much as he loved Alabama or Texas A&M football

Tory- the golden child, straight- A, student athlete (who never seemed to be in trouble according to this little sister) that humbly collected accolades from every sports team and school event at the same rate he collected friends and well-deserved respect from his peers

Jamey- the extremely smart, future orthopedic surgeon lovingly referred to as “Hamey Bufow” still to this day (a botched name given to him by his elementary Spanish teacher) who married the first girl he seriously dated

David- the quirky, yet driven kid with an infectious laugh who lost his parents at a young age but found his purpose in building a family of his own and a successful career in public parking

Ken- the laid-back life of the party who made a name for himself as high school Winter Festival King and the lead singer of an extremely successful nineties country music cover band while attending almost every Ole Miss sporting event

Douglas- my brother’s best friend who became a 6’3, 235lb, defensive end in the SEC, has more loyalty to his people than most I’ve seen, and is the only one to make his home in Nashville near me

Robert- the only friend my age who single handedly taught me how to do a back handspring (due to his natural athletic skills), taught me my first cuss words, was my forever opponent in a game of H-O-R-S-E, was the recipient of an SEC pole vaulting scholarship, and became a highly acclaimed chef then real estate agent

Now, thanks to this group and my tendency to be a natural observer of people’s behavior, I started to understand boys a little differently (whether they realized it or not). By listening to their thoughts and opinions on other girls, observing their sporty yet goofy nature, and by simply having to keep up with them, it evolved so that I became, at times, more comfortable in a group of boys than I was in a group of girls. They didn’t care what outfit I had on or what new makeup I had found. By the process of osmosis, I learned the rules of every sporting event, the mascots and colors of all the teams, and the lines of every classic 80’s movie. I learned that boys handle their issues quick and easy, with a single push or punch and little to no manipulation. Still to this day, if there is any type of female drama going on, I shut down and call up one of my guy friends to go sit and have a beer with while we watch a football game- no he said/ she said yea- yea drama that can occur at any given moment with a group of women.

They taught me how to ride my bike with no training wheels then stole it (because the Pink Flamingo Schwinn with spokey dokes was a much smoother ride than their BMX mountain bikes), how to hustle someone in ping pong, and how to dribble a basketball between my legs before I was ten. They hid in the bushes when I was picked up for dances, and they poured me a strong one when turned twenty-one.

They humored their annoying little sister when it came to a Miss America pageant that I was dying to watch by turning it into a game: Each person would put a few dollars in the pot, then draw five or six states from a hat. Whoever had the state that received the Miss America crown at the end of the night went home with the entire pot. Thinking back on it, it was hilarious to see them wince when they picked “Miss Rhode Island” and rejoice when they picked “Miss Texas” or any minority in the lot, assuring a top ten spot right off the bat. Truthfully, they all prayed for the southeastern states because they knew those Southern women’s hair and makeup would be over the top and most likely push them through the evening gown competition portion of the show.

The only time I wasn’t allowed to tag along in their group activities was during their annual beach trip to St. George Island. It got to be such an issue, I forced a few of the Sheffield boys to sign a homemade contract stating that when I turned 18, I would be included in the trip. Now, I eventually was invited, but it never worked out to where I could go, but I do plan on organizing a trip myself and divvying out those invites at some point in my life.

A major turning point for my relationship with the Sheffield Boys was when I went to college. A few were still remaining, finishing up their degree or coming back to Oxford for football games when the leaves of the Grove turn to their dusky orange and yellow hues and the smells of freshly fried chicken on a stick waft through the small town’s air. During the fall of 2000, it suddenly dawned on them that I now had a completely new group of friends- a sorority pledge class who were all very beautiful girls and just happened to be a lot of fun to hang out with. Suddenly, I became the most popular one of the Sheffield Boys, and they always wanted the annoying little sister around. They got to hang out with the pledge sisters, and I convinced them to find me a fake ID that would work until I turned twenty-one… as long as I made sure Robert made it to class. Interesting how that works out.

So, as we say goodbye to one of the Sheffield Boys’ fathers, I can’t help but reflect on how grateful I am for all of them in my life. I simply would not be the same person I am today without them. When I tell people I grew up with all boys, it is them who I am specifically referring to. It is them who I can still call at any given minute for a good ole belly laugh or to sit and have a beer during a football game while some female drama is unnecessarily brewing. It is them who I think of when I play my child in ping pong or throw the football (in a perfect spiral might I add) to my son, and it is them who I think of when I watch a Miss America pageant with my daughter. And it will be them who I can count on the rest of my life…all my brothers…all the Sheffield Boys.

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