BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 159
Shit, I had two legs. Each one weighed about what he did when he got down to
the weight he wrestled. Mouthy, whiny little prick. He should‟ve told that David thing
about it so they could cry in a duet.
We retired as a group to a nearby bar. It‟s hard to figure out why the day was so
perfect. The bar was called “The Clique”, long since gone from the scene. It was a nasty,
dirty little dump. Located off East Saginaw, on the north side, you could only reach it
using whatever side street ran alongside Saginaw for half a mile.
Maybe eight or ten of us sat around drinking draft beer and telling lies, all bigger
and bigger as the beers went on. I don‟t think I ever had such an enjoyable afternoon in
my life by that time. The memory has always stayed with me.
I damned near ruined that memory in the late 80s when I tried to relive it. The
name was changed, although it was still a dump. I gathered some of the same guys
together to revisit old times. It didn‟t work. Never even came close. However, in a few
months, I was able to recall that wonderful afternoon again, not spoiled by bad the
memory of taking a second stab at it.
The other time, Rex was also with us. It was much the same crew, albeit in a
different bar. This time it was the Saginaw Bar, about half a mile from my house, where
I often drank beer after school. We were having a great time, laughing and telling dirty
jokes, along with the standard lies about anything and everything. Our tables were a
messy concoction of at least two or three shoved together, so we may have numbered as
many as twelve.
Other people came and went, as is always true in a poor man‟s bar. We paid no
attention. We were having fun. I believe I was seventeen at the time. I saw the guys
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