Why the hell is this man named, “Happy”?
He frankly looks pissed off that he needs his picture taken. Or else someone else teased him about his name—Happy Feller. When you are a proper noun, adverb and adjective all rolled into one, the day’s gonna get mighty long.
“Mighty Long”—now there’s a name…
Anyway.
Happy got his name as a baby when he just seemed…happy. All the flipping time. Probably drove his parents crazy,
“Honey, James (Happy’s real name) just stuck his finder in an outlet again!”
“But..the poor dork is…happy!”
“Well, don’t blame MY side of the family for this! Were you drinking straight vodka while you were pregnant?”
But the brat didn’t care. He was too busy being…happy. They probably deliberately talked about the Korean War and Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and Ralph Branca, just to get some other emotion. No Go. Flipping brat was still…happy.
So, Happy he was, and Happy he stayed.
For a while, Happy WAS happy. It was his extra point that won the 1969 Texas/Arkansas game. And then he went professional. He was a happy feller, indeed! But an injured quadricep in his kicking leg ended the happiness. He stuck it out for three years, but Happy did not have joyous results as he went 18 for 43 on field goals over his career, which is bluntly awful. By 1973 (the year of this card) the happy days were over for Happy Feller. Which is why he looks so ticked off. I’m sure his teammates never let him forget…
“You whiffed another one? Are you happy? Oh that’s right—you ARE one Happy Feller! Even when you blow a field goal!” Lord knows what the fans screamed after his bum leg shanked another field goal–and remember, he started his pro career in Philadelphia, where Santa gets booed. So the epithets were probably incredibly funny and totally unfit to put here.
So, that had to be the reason why Happy Feller is immortalized on Topps cardboard as “Go Screw Yourself” Feller.
