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Stretch Armstrong was high on my childhood grail list, quite possibly the highest. A grail that sadly was never obtained, and would became a constant, searing, source of disappointment for me for nearly four decades. Let me explain.
I lusted for this toy when it came out, and probably begged my mom for him ad nauseam. Eventually my parents made a deal that if I scored a goal in soccer I could get him. I guess this was motivation for me, since I was more of a stand-around-the-backfield kinda guy. And I was happy to be just that. But a chance to get Stretch? Man, that would have motivated me to try just about anything. Stretch had captured my imagination so intensely it was almost overwhelming.
Well, it came down to the last game of the season, so I had one final shot at my dream. I’m not sure how long we played back then, maybe 30 minutes total, but let’s just say we were down to a scant few minutes of regulation time. I doubt I went past midfield more than three times up to that point. I knew the time was nigh or I could forget about Stretch! I somehow managed to get up to the front line, not my usual position. Grouped among three or four opposing players, we approached the goal line when the ball miraculously appeared in front of me. With a maniacal slap of my foot and I made contact with the ball. And in it went! Oh HALLELUJAH!! Glory to God, Stretch would be mine! That chiseled face, those elastic limbs! Oh how I would stretch him! What’s that though? What’s that sound? A whistle? Called offside you say? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! And in an instant my elation was changed to deflation. The final whistle blew and that was it. (This is an actual pic from after that very game. You can see the glazed look of shattered dreams.)
My dad, not one to coddle us, told me, “You were onside. That was a goal.” If he said it, he meant it. Was the deal back on? I wondered. Yes, it was. My mom asked me again what I wanted, and I told her, “STRETCH ARMSTRONG!”
I’m not sure how much time passed, or whether we went that day or weeks later. What I do know is that I was not the only red-blooded, goal-scorin’, Stretch-lovin’ kid in America. Stretch was Tickle Me Elmo before Elmo was even a thought in Henson’s brain. Which meant Stretch was not to be found, so my mom did what she thought was best and brought home a Stretch Monster. Now, I know back then, and to this day, there are many who prefer ol’ SM over SA, but I was never one of those people! I wanted SA, and SM was NOT a suitable substitute for me. His green grimace became a mocking smirk that would never allow me to love him, as I would have loved SA. I barely played with him, and at some point tossed him into my toy trunk and all but forgot about him. Awhile later I found him down there among the other rejects, his neck had gotten pressed up between the trunk and some boxes, and his thick, red syrup had oozed out and hardened in one last mocking gesture.
I’m not really sure why I never got SA. It seems like he was in production for at least four years, but alas it never happened. This was a toy I thought about quite often through the years. Once eBay came around he became, along with those 8” action figures I’d once owned, a pretty consistent search term for me. Unlike Megos though, ol’ SA didn’t fare so well with the passing of time, and complete figures in decent shape were way out of my price range.
So here we are today, and this release of the original may be more poignant for me than having found most of my Mego grails, or the proliferation of FTCs offerings. This really was the one that got away. Now he’s here, and he’s glorious. I will probably buy one more, and stow him away in the dark for some future day. And yes, I will buy a Stretch Monster when he comes out. I need to apologize to him!
Here are my two. One from Amazon (on the left) and one from Target. The one from Amazon had some ooze around the neck and on the head (it's clear this time), but it cleaned off easily. I don't think he's leaking, it was probably from when he was put together. He's also overstuffed and has a crimp up by the neck. So the one from Target will be my display guy. He's pretty much perfect other than some minor paint rubs.
I lusted for this toy when it came out, and probably begged my mom for him ad nauseam. Eventually my parents made a deal that if I scored a goal in soccer I could get him. I guess this was motivation for me, since I was more of a stand-around-the-backfield kinda guy. And I was happy to be just that. But a chance to get Stretch? Man, that would have motivated me to try just about anything. Stretch had captured my imagination so intensely it was almost overwhelming.
Well, it came down to the last game of the season, so I had one final shot at my dream. I’m not sure how long we played back then, maybe 30 minutes total, but let’s just say we were down to a scant few minutes of regulation time. I doubt I went past midfield more than three times up to that point. I knew the time was nigh or I could forget about Stretch! I somehow managed to get up to the front line, not my usual position. Grouped among three or four opposing players, we approached the goal line when the ball miraculously appeared in front of me. With a maniacal slap of my foot and I made contact with the ball. And in it went! Oh HALLELUJAH!! Glory to God, Stretch would be mine! That chiseled face, those elastic limbs! Oh how I would stretch him! What’s that though? What’s that sound? A whistle? Called offside you say? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! And in an instant my elation was changed to deflation. The final whistle blew and that was it. (This is an actual pic from after that very game. You can see the glazed look of shattered dreams.)
My dad, not one to coddle us, told me, “You were onside. That was a goal.” If he said it, he meant it. Was the deal back on? I wondered. Yes, it was. My mom asked me again what I wanted, and I told her, “STRETCH ARMSTRONG!”
I’m not sure how much time passed, or whether we went that day or weeks later. What I do know is that I was not the only red-blooded, goal-scorin’, Stretch-lovin’ kid in America. Stretch was Tickle Me Elmo before Elmo was even a thought in Henson’s brain. Which meant Stretch was not to be found, so my mom did what she thought was best and brought home a Stretch Monster. Now, I know back then, and to this day, there are many who prefer ol’ SM over SA, but I was never one of those people! I wanted SA, and SM was NOT a suitable substitute for me. His green grimace became a mocking smirk that would never allow me to love him, as I would have loved SA. I barely played with him, and at some point tossed him into my toy trunk and all but forgot about him. Awhile later I found him down there among the other rejects, his neck had gotten pressed up between the trunk and some boxes, and his thick, red syrup had oozed out and hardened in one last mocking gesture.
I’m not really sure why I never got SA. It seems like he was in production for at least four years, but alas it never happened. This was a toy I thought about quite often through the years. Once eBay came around he became, along with those 8” action figures I’d once owned, a pretty consistent search term for me. Unlike Megos though, ol’ SA didn’t fare so well with the passing of time, and complete figures in decent shape were way out of my price range.
So here we are today, and this release of the original may be more poignant for me than having found most of my Mego grails, or the proliferation of FTCs offerings. This really was the one that got away. Now he’s here, and he’s glorious. I will probably buy one more, and stow him away in the dark for some future day. And yes, I will buy a Stretch Monster when he comes out. I need to apologize to him!
Here are my two. One from Amazon (on the left) and one from Target. The one from Amazon had some ooze around the neck and on the head (it's clear this time), but it cleaned off easily. I don't think he's leaking, it was probably from when he was put together. He's also overstuffed and has a crimp up by the neck. So the one from Target will be my display guy. He's pretty much perfect other than some minor paint rubs.
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