The season was mostly uneventful. I played in every game I suited up for and started in some. I missed two road games, one due to injury and the other due to not packing my uniform. After having a missing uniform I required the manager to always pack an extra uniform whenever we took a road trip. It came in handy later in the season when Waymon didn't have his uniform in his bag when we got to the away gym. Here are some of the highlights I remember.
We played Tyler Junior College in Tyler. They won the national JUCO championship either that year or the next and were continually in the playoffs. They had scrimmaged our varsity prior to the season and had beaten them soundly. They had a 6'4" guard named Poo Welch who was supposed to be the second coming of Pete Maravich. In fact, he was signed to go to LSU but couldn't quailfy academically. He was averaging 35 points a game and I was assigned to guard him. He actually ended up at Houston after leaving Tyler. I "held" him to 25 points, primarily because he sat out the last 10 minutes of the game. They won 120-something to 40 or 50.
Tyler had a lot of height and a lot of great basketball players, mostly Division I caliber players who couldn't qualify academically. Playing in their gym with their referees was a nightmare. They didn't need the help but one hot dog referee was intent on giving it to them. If I breathed too hard near Welch a foul was called on me. When I blocked out and he came over my back for the rebound a foul was called on me. When they set a screen on me and I quickly rolled around it, getting between the screener and the basket so they didn't have an easy pick and roll, a foul was called on me. They ran a full court man press. I jab stepped and the defender jumped toward the feint. The referee had his back to the play but, when the crowd "oohed" due to the good move, he figured I must have travelled and blew the whistle. Sometimes on the foul call he would run across the floor and come sliding in on his knees, blowing his whistle to call the foul. He was a real showboat. Obviously, I fouled out. To give you an idea how totally overmatched we were follow this description of the last 17 seconds of the first half. "Tyler shoots, no good. Tip, no good. Tip again, no good. Tip up on the right side, no good. Tip front the left, no good. Tip again, no good." Over and over they tipped the ball from all sides of the rim until finally, "Tip in, good! And, that's the buzzer to end the half." They tipped the ball for 17 seconds with no one having control until it dropped in for the score.
In another game we were playing a 3/4 zone trap. The guy from Cushing was supposed to be playing the point on the press but he just couldn't figure it out. I was trying to tell him what to do but he couldn't do it. Finally, we swapped positions without asking the coach and we started running a successful trap and causing several turnovers.
As the season went along I found myself often playing a forward position against guys as big as 6'7". The only way I could compete was with elbows, hard fouls, and hitting them when the ref wasn't looking. I got tons of retaliation fouls called against the other team. In some respects I became the enforcer on our team because I could hit guys and get away with either no foul or a foul called on them, and I wasn't afraid to take them on.
One game late in the season was played in our gym. The other team had a real hot dog guard who mouthed off a lot and had scored a number of points. He had 20 points or so and they were winning about 70-60 with just a few seconds to go in the game. For some reason, they called time out to set up a play for one more score and that made us mad. By this time I was guarding the guy and all our players were encouraging me to deck him when play resumed. The ball was being inbounded right in front of their bench and they were obviously going to throw it into this guy. As the ref handed the ball to their player to inbound the ball I bellied up to my guy and grabbed his shorts with my left hand, hidden from the referee by our bodies. He felt me grab his shorts and tried to push off on my chest while he broke away for the pass. As he was pushing away I lifted his legs and lower body up by his shorts causing him to lose balance and fall. On my upward motion I released his shorts and showed an open hand in a defensive position. I had put him on his ear and the ref saw nothing. Their coach saw it all clearly and was screaming bloody murder. No foul was called and the remaining seconds ran off the clock with no other scores.
One thing I failed to note about the Tyler game occurred on the drive to the game. I was driving the coach's car with the a player sitting between the coach and me in the front seat and 3 guys in the back. I was telling them about Lee Shaw of IM Terrell and how he had to go to a small college because he only made a 4 on the ACT college entrance exam. The coach punched me and shook his head at me to be quiet. When we got to Tyler JC he told me there were guys in the car who didn't make that high a score!
With that kind of scholastic apptitude it is no wonder that only 6 guys were left eligible after grades came out. Joe, Donny, the soph Indiana guard, Frank, and and other guy (I think Waymon) and me were the only guys eligible. One road trip (Ouchita) was cancelled because they didn't have enough guys eligible to have a JV team and the team we played in the last game only had 5 eligible players.
We had played this team earlier in the year at their place and had beaten them 100-90, or something like that. One guy for sure and maybe more weren't on the team when we played them before. I think they picked them up so they wouldn't forfeit. The "new" guy was 5'7" and slow. He was supposed to guard me. On defense, we played a 1-2-2 zone and I played the position on the right side at the free throw line (left side from the offensive point of view). When the offense took the ball to the right offensive corner I slid down for the offside rebound. Over and over again they would take the ball to the right corner and shoot. The ball would bounce off the rim over to the offside where I would rebound it and head downcourt on the fastbreak. I scored 27 points with 20 rebounds and 20 assists. Our coach kept telling us to quit running up the score but we ignored him. We won 130-something to 40-something.
That ended my playing career at ETBC except for the tryout day for high school seniors. I'll tell you about that in another post.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
ETBC - part 2
The JV team at ETBC was made up of freshman and sophomores. There were about 12 players with all but two on some sort of scholarship. Some had a baseball/basketball scholarship or a golf/basketball scholarship, etc. Half were center/forwards and the rest guards.
Here are the descriptions of the players I remember. Frank was a 6'2" guard from Many, LA, a class A school. He was on a full scholarship and was a very good shooter. Bert West was a 6'3" guard/forward from a little town in Arkansas. He was a class B All State player and played center in high school. I think there were only about 10 boys in his entire high school. He was a great pure shooter and really nice guy. I think he is the basketball coach at ETBC now. Donny was a 6'3" guard from Pasadena, TX and a pretty good all around ball player. Joe Redfern was a big 6'4" center from Mt. Pleasant, TX, a 3A school. He was on a golf/basketball scholarship. He left after his freshman year and went to SMU. He is now a big insurance guy in Mt. Pleasant. The last starter was a sophomore black kid named Waymon. He was 6'3", a good rebounder and defender, physcially strong, but not a very good shooter.
The center/forward subs were my Gomer Pyle-like suite mate, a 6'7" skinny center from class A Grapeland, TX. He was a much better guitar player/Johnny Cash singer than he was a basketball player - poor shot, poor defender, awkward and slow. The other center was a 6'5" skinny black kid I think named Charles. He was a sophomore, extremely nice, but only an average ball player. The other forward was a 6'3" black kid, extremely muscled and great jumper who had never played on a school team. He was a fabulous athlete but not a basketball player. He was the other walk-on. There was one other guy that had been given a full scholarship. He was a 6'3" black center from Chicago. His coach had played at ETBC and recommended him. He couldn't handle the cultural differences. He was used to the big city and dating white girls. That was definitely not Marshall, TX in 1968, so he went home after a few weeks.
The subs at guard included a 6'2" sophomore from Indiana, an overall decent player, and a nice guy. There was also a guy named Easterling from another small school in Arkansas. He was 6'3" with big buck teeth and was on a track/basketball scholarship. I beat him in the 880 at the track meet, his specialty. He played guard/forward. The last guy besides me was a 5'9" black kid from class A Cushing, TX. He was a good jumper and agressive defensive player but an inconsistent shooter and ball handler. He was a baseball/basketball scholarship guy. Lastly, you had me, a 5'11" guard from a big school, the only one besides Donny. Of course, I thought I should have been starting.
Quite honestly, I wasn't a better player than the guys starting but I knew more about basketball. Some of these guys had never played any sort of zone defense, much less half-court or full-court zone presses, traps, etc. With me on the court I could direct them where they were supposed to be, so it made the team better.
A week before our first game we had a game-like scrimmage at Jacksonville Junior College. The 6'3" guard from whom I had stolen the ball several times during the ETBC tryout was playing for them. They also had a 7-footer. Late in the game I beat the guard at the top of the key and started down the lane. With the 7-footer coming toward me I stopped at the free throw line for a jump shot. I never got it off. The 7-footer hit his knee to my right knee as it was planted for the jump. I crumpled to the floor and had never hurt so badly.
They basically did nothing for my knee. No ice, no nothing. It swelled up overnight so badly I couldn't sleep. The next morning I was sent to a doctor. X-rays showed nothing torn so they drained my knee by sticking me with the huge syringe and drawing out the excess fluid. Even though I had been given a local anesthetic it hurt like heck every time he bumped the needle into one of the bones. I was given some crutches and told to stay off of the leg for a week. 25 year later I had surgery to remove a bone splinter that had calcified into an object the size of your little finger. I know it was from that injury.
The first game fell on the last day of the period I was supposed to stay off the leg, but I wanted to play anyway. So, I suited up and had my knee wrapped with tape and an ace bandage. We were playing Louisiana Tech. They were much taller than us and we stayed 8-10 points behind. The closest I got to the game was marking shots and turnovers on a clipboard until there was about 2 minutes to go in the game. We were down by 8 and the coach asked me if I wanted to play. I said "Heck yeah! I didn't suit up to do nothing."
I went in as the point guard. They were playing a man defense. We ran a motion offense with a set pattern. Obviously, after running it the whole game the defenders knew where we were supposed to go and started cheating there. I was supposed to pass it into the center, go into the center of the lane, and try to rub off the defender for a possible pass back and a jump shot on the right side, free throw line extended. I passed it in but, instead of going down the lane, I went directly to the shooting spot. My defender went where I was supposed to go and left me with an open 18-footer which I promptly swished. They missed there shot and we got the rebound. I was dribbling at the left side of the top of the key when I noticed the lane was open. Our center had moved over to the right of the lane at the free throw line to set up our offensive pattern. Instead of setting up the standard offense I quickly drove by my guy, down the lane, and laid it in. We had cut the lead to 4 with more than a minute to go. Their coach quickly called time out.
Up in the stands James Hoffpauir, my roommate, was sitting with a couple of his upper classmen friends in front of the sportswriter for the newspaper. "Where has this guy been all game?" the sportswriter asked. One of James' friends said, "He suffers from big school disease. He went to a 4A school and didn't make All District so he can't be as good as the 1A or B guys." The sportswriter had heard that before and just nodded his head.
Here are the descriptions of the players I remember. Frank was a 6'2" guard from Many, LA, a class A school. He was on a full scholarship and was a very good shooter. Bert West was a 6'3" guard/forward from a little town in Arkansas. He was a class B All State player and played center in high school. I think there were only about 10 boys in his entire high school. He was a great pure shooter and really nice guy. I think he is the basketball coach at ETBC now. Donny was a 6'3" guard from Pasadena, TX and a pretty good all around ball player. Joe Redfern was a big 6'4" center from Mt. Pleasant, TX, a 3A school. He was on a golf/basketball scholarship. He left after his freshman year and went to SMU. He is now a big insurance guy in Mt. Pleasant. The last starter was a sophomore black kid named Waymon. He was 6'3", a good rebounder and defender, physcially strong, but not a very good shooter.
The center/forward subs were my Gomer Pyle-like suite mate, a 6'7" skinny center from class A Grapeland, TX. He was a much better guitar player/Johnny Cash singer than he was a basketball player - poor shot, poor defender, awkward and slow. The other center was a 6'5" skinny black kid I think named Charles. He was a sophomore, extremely nice, but only an average ball player. The other forward was a 6'3" black kid, extremely muscled and great jumper who had never played on a school team. He was a fabulous athlete but not a basketball player. He was the other walk-on. There was one other guy that had been given a full scholarship. He was a 6'3" black center from Chicago. His coach had played at ETBC and recommended him. He couldn't handle the cultural differences. He was used to the big city and dating white girls. That was definitely not Marshall, TX in 1968, so he went home after a few weeks.
The subs at guard included a 6'2" sophomore from Indiana, an overall decent player, and a nice guy. There was also a guy named Easterling from another small school in Arkansas. He was 6'3" with big buck teeth and was on a track/basketball scholarship. I beat him in the 880 at the track meet, his specialty. He played guard/forward. The last guy besides me was a 5'9" black kid from class A Cushing, TX. He was a good jumper and agressive defensive player but an inconsistent shooter and ball handler. He was a baseball/basketball scholarship guy. Lastly, you had me, a 5'11" guard from a big school, the only one besides Donny. Of course, I thought I should have been starting.
Quite honestly, I wasn't a better player than the guys starting but I knew more about basketball. Some of these guys had never played any sort of zone defense, much less half-court or full-court zone presses, traps, etc. With me on the court I could direct them where they were supposed to be, so it made the team better.
A week before our first game we had a game-like scrimmage at Jacksonville Junior College. The 6'3" guard from whom I had stolen the ball several times during the ETBC tryout was playing for them. They also had a 7-footer. Late in the game I beat the guard at the top of the key and started down the lane. With the 7-footer coming toward me I stopped at the free throw line for a jump shot. I never got it off. The 7-footer hit his knee to my right knee as it was planted for the jump. I crumpled to the floor and had never hurt so badly.
They basically did nothing for my knee. No ice, no nothing. It swelled up overnight so badly I couldn't sleep. The next morning I was sent to a doctor. X-rays showed nothing torn so they drained my knee by sticking me with the huge syringe and drawing out the excess fluid. Even though I had been given a local anesthetic it hurt like heck every time he bumped the needle into one of the bones. I was given some crutches and told to stay off of the leg for a week. 25 year later I had surgery to remove a bone splinter that had calcified into an object the size of your little finger. I know it was from that injury.
The first game fell on the last day of the period I was supposed to stay off the leg, but I wanted to play anyway. So, I suited up and had my knee wrapped with tape and an ace bandage. We were playing Louisiana Tech. They were much taller than us and we stayed 8-10 points behind. The closest I got to the game was marking shots and turnovers on a clipboard until there was about 2 minutes to go in the game. We were down by 8 and the coach asked me if I wanted to play. I said "Heck yeah! I didn't suit up to do nothing."
I went in as the point guard. They were playing a man defense. We ran a motion offense with a set pattern. Obviously, after running it the whole game the defenders knew where we were supposed to go and started cheating there. I was supposed to pass it into the center, go into the center of the lane, and try to rub off the defender for a possible pass back and a jump shot on the right side, free throw line extended. I passed it in but, instead of going down the lane, I went directly to the shooting spot. My defender went where I was supposed to go and left me with an open 18-footer which I promptly swished. They missed there shot and we got the rebound. I was dribbling at the left side of the top of the key when I noticed the lane was open. Our center had moved over to the right of the lane at the free throw line to set up our offensive pattern. Instead of setting up the standard offense I quickly drove by my guy, down the lane, and laid it in. We had cut the lead to 4 with more than a minute to go. Their coach quickly called time out.
Up in the stands James Hoffpauir, my roommate, was sitting with a couple of his upper classmen friends in front of the sportswriter for the newspaper. "Where has this guy been all game?" the sportswriter asked. One of James' friends said, "He suffers from big school disease. He went to a 4A school and didn't make All District so he can't be as good as the 1A or B guys." The sportswriter had heard that before and just nodded his head.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
ETBC - part 1
Fall of 1968 found me in Marshall, Texas entering East Texas Baptist College. My main purpose of going to ETBC was to play basketball and get away from home for a while. ETBC had a record enrollment that year with about 600 students and they had no football team, so basketball was the sports king.
I think everyone should go away to school for a least a year. It's good for you to be on your own a little and face new challenges. ETBC was a somewhat protected atmosphere since it was a small Baptist school that took the word "Baptist" seriously in its rules and campus life. For example, they rescinded the scholarship on the freshman starting guard I had met because he shacked up with a girl from the school one weekend.
Chapel met on Tuesdays and Thursday and attendance was mandatory. Seats were assigned and the roll checked. An unexcused absence was 5 demerits, 25 demerits got you expelled from school. You could also get demerits for a dirty room, being too loud in the dorm, or using the fire escape as regular stairs.
I was assigned the last room on the second floor of the northeast corner of Fegan Hall, the primary dorm residence for men. The room was about 10 x 14 with two built-in single beds taking up the entire east wall. The room also had two small 3x3 closets, some built-in drawers with a counter top and mirror on the west wall and a small bathroom with shower that was shared with an adjoining room. It also had two small wooden tables and chairs to use as a desk. Just outside my room was the fire escape exit. The regular stairs were in the middle of the building, a long way away.
Initially, I had no roommate which I thought was good. The room was so small I could use the extra room and there was no bookcase on the north wall as there was in the other rooms. It had a window instead, since it was the outside wall of the building. That provided better ventilation since it also was not air conditioned. I chose the bed that had the cross ventilation.
My suite mates were both freshman scholarship basketball players. Donny was a 6'3" guard from Pasadena, TX and a 6'7" Gomer Pyle clone from Grapeland, TX. Donny was the only other 4A school player besides me. Grapeland was a class 1A school. The Grapeland guy was tall, skinny, and awkward. He also played a guitar and sang Johnny Cash songs. He was pretty good at that, if you liked country music. I wasn't a country music fan at that time.
After a few days I was convinced that I wasn't going to have a roommate until I came in after class and found some clothes thrown on the extra bed along with a Bible and some theology books. "Oh no, " I thought. "I'm going to get stuck with a preacher." Essentially, you went to ETBC to be a preacher or teacher. They didn't offer much of anything else.
James Hoffpauir was a preacher allright, but he was also a former class 3A All-State basketball player at Sillsbee, TX. He had played one year on scholarship at Lamar University until he had a conversion experience, felt called to preach, and transferred to ETBC. He did not play basketball at ETBC. He was about 5'9", had long thinning floppy hair on the top of his head, and a country drawl that would quit. We became great friends.
He was a preacher but didn't wear it on his sleeves. He wasn't pompous or sanctimonious or "holier than thou". He was just a good guy. He was a junior who had been engaged to be married and scheduled to live in the married housing area, but he broke the engagement and didn't get married. He gave me, and I still have, the Bible his fiancee had given him. We played a lot of basketball together. He also taught me how to bowl. (He had come within 4 pins of qualifying for the PBA tour.) He also taught me some life lessons that I still remember and practice today. I had the honor of being his Best Man when he got married a year later to Cathy Bartels. Sometimes, when James was at the girl's dorm visiting with Cathy, Ricky Hargrave and I would go over there and ask Cathy, "can James come out and play?"
Registration for classes was done on a seniority basis, except they let the basketball players inside the building early and the coaches let us into the registration room well ahead of our assigned space. They also visited with us and told us which classes and teachers to take and which teachers to avoid. One of the required classes was "Appreciation of the Arts" and was taught by two different teachers. They said to avois one guy at all costs but his class time matched what I needed to I took him.
I think everyone should go away to school for a least a year. It's good for you to be on your own a little and face new challenges. ETBC was a somewhat protected atmosphere since it was a small Baptist school that took the word "Baptist" seriously in its rules and campus life. For example, they rescinded the scholarship on the freshman starting guard I had met because he shacked up with a girl from the school one weekend.
Chapel met on Tuesdays and Thursday and attendance was mandatory. Seats were assigned and the roll checked. An unexcused absence was 5 demerits, 25 demerits got you expelled from school. You could also get demerits for a dirty room, being too loud in the dorm, or using the fire escape as regular stairs.
I was assigned the last room on the second floor of the northeast corner of Fegan Hall, the primary dorm residence for men. The room was about 10 x 14 with two built-in single beds taking up the entire east wall. The room also had two small 3x3 closets, some built-in drawers with a counter top and mirror on the west wall and a small bathroom with shower that was shared with an adjoining room. It also had two small wooden tables and chairs to use as a desk. Just outside my room was the fire escape exit. The regular stairs were in the middle of the building, a long way away.
Initially, I had no roommate which I thought was good. The room was so small I could use the extra room and there was no bookcase on the north wall as there was in the other rooms. It had a window instead, since it was the outside wall of the building. That provided better ventilation since it also was not air conditioned. I chose the bed that had the cross ventilation.
My suite mates were both freshman scholarship basketball players. Donny was a 6'3" guard from Pasadena, TX and a 6'7" Gomer Pyle clone from Grapeland, TX. Donny was the only other 4A school player besides me. Grapeland was a class 1A school. The Grapeland guy was tall, skinny, and awkward. He also played a guitar and sang Johnny Cash songs. He was pretty good at that, if you liked country music. I wasn't a country music fan at that time.
After a few days I was convinced that I wasn't going to have a roommate until I came in after class and found some clothes thrown on the extra bed along with a Bible and some theology books. "Oh no, " I thought. "I'm going to get stuck with a preacher." Essentially, you went to ETBC to be a preacher or teacher. They didn't offer much of anything else.
James Hoffpauir was a preacher allright, but he was also a former class 3A All-State basketball player at Sillsbee, TX. He had played one year on scholarship at Lamar University until he had a conversion experience, felt called to preach, and transferred to ETBC. He did not play basketball at ETBC. He was about 5'9", had long thinning floppy hair on the top of his head, and a country drawl that would quit. We became great friends.
He was a preacher but didn't wear it on his sleeves. He wasn't pompous or sanctimonious or "holier than thou". He was just a good guy. He was a junior who had been engaged to be married and scheduled to live in the married housing area, but he broke the engagement and didn't get married. He gave me, and I still have, the Bible his fiancee had given him. We played a lot of basketball together. He also taught me how to bowl. (He had come within 4 pins of qualifying for the PBA tour.) He also taught me some life lessons that I still remember and practice today. I had the honor of being his Best Man when he got married a year later to Cathy Bartels. Sometimes, when James was at the girl's dorm visiting with Cathy, Ricky Hargrave and I would go over there and ask Cathy, "can James come out and play?"
Registration for classes was done on a seniority basis, except they let the basketball players inside the building early and the coaches let us into the registration room well ahead of our assigned space. They also visited with us and told us which classes and teachers to take and which teachers to avoid. One of the required classes was "Appreciation of the Arts" and was taught by two different teachers. They said to avois one guy at all costs but his class time matched what I needed to I took him.
Under him, Appreciation of the Arts was not a gimme easy arts survey course. He had 5 different masters of music degrees and had completed the work to get his doctorate in all of them. However, he didn't want to be called "Doctor" so he never took the final oral exam. He also always wore two watches. It seems he was behind enemy lines in Korea and his squad was supposed to get to a pickup point by a certain time. He was the squad leader and his watch broker. Evidently, no one else had a watch. They were late getting to the pickup point and got there in time to watch the rescue helicopters fly away and had to spend another night behind enemy lines. So, you can tell he was a little bit eccentric. He said he wasn't qualified to teach anything about painting and sculpting. He knew music and was going to teach music. He taught a course equivalent to a Music History course required for music majors. We had to be able to listen to snippets of songs and identify the song and composer. If we spelled the composer's name wrong we got no credit for the answer. We also had to recognize when new instruments were introduced to the orchestra. I brownie points one day in class by recognizing what was not authentic in a record of a 17th century piece. I recognized they were using an electric organ instead of a pipe organ. Miss Ellis always gave me extra points for taking this course so that I could relate to Kay Ellen more. I never told her it was a required course.
I also took an idiot's math course. It transferred to UTA as College Algebra but it was really a simple, almost remedial high school math course. A couple of weeks into the class I realized that I didn't really need the book and I could save some money if I took the book back. Unfortunately, it had been 2 weeks and 1 day since I bought the book and I could only get a full refund in I had taken it back within 2 weeks. I kept the book but usually took the Dallas Morning News to class, when I went. I'd also go 20-30 minutes late for the hour and twenty minute class. When Mr. Jimerson would take roll at the start of class and I wasn't there he often say, "Well, Mr Goodyear will probably show up in a litle bit" and wouldn't mark me absent. When I got to 8 absences he erased them all and started over. Nine absences was supposed to be an automatic F. I made a 92 in the class.
Basketball practice was just like the preseason practices at EHHS. We ran a couple of miles before we got to go in and start shooting and working on basketball drills. The coach asked me if I had run track in high school. I told him no but did say I had been timed at 4:38 for the mile.
One Saturday morning early in the semester I got up at my usual 7:00am time, went up to the cafeteria, ate pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage with orange juice and milk, and went back to my dorm room and went back to sleep. At about 9am the team manager was knocking on my door. "Coach wants you down at the track field." He didn't say what for. I put on some jeans , t-shirt, and regular shoes. I also wore gym shorts under my jeans, just in case. When I got to the field the coach says, "You're in lane 4 running the mile." ETBC was having a dual track meet with LeTourneau College from Longview. "I don't have any track shoes" I said, but the manager reached in to the equipment bag and pulled some out that were my size. So, I got in lane 4 with no warm up to run the mile. I finished 2nd. "Can I go home now?" I asked. "No," the coach replied, you're going to run the 880 (1/2 mile) in a few minutes." 15 minutes later I ran the 880 and finished 1st with a time of 1:58. By then, I wanted to run in the mile relay. It was going to decide who would win the meet, but the coach wouldn't let me. He had some fat kid on a track scholarship who was supposed to be a sprinter. He would run in the slot I wanted. We lost as that kid got totally whipped on his leg. I still think we would have won if I had been allowed to run.
Well, enough about that. My next post will be about basketball season.
College Tryouts
Since I haven't been too successful at coming up with non-basketball stories, I'll start on basketball stories again.
After my senior season was over there was very little prospect of me playing college basketball but I was invited to two tryouts, East Texas Baptist College in Marshall and Hill Country Junior College in Hillsboro. I was invited to ETBC because of Ken ? whose wife was the ETBC President's daughter. He had seen the first half of the game against Sam Houston at EHHS when I scored 17, didn't miss a shot from the field, and made a nice move and layup on a 1 on 2 fastbreak. The invitation to Hill was really a blanket invitation to everyone on our team.
I went to ETBC first. The tryout day was on a Saturday and Gary and I drove down Friday afternoon. That evening I went down to the gym and played with some of the guys that were trying out and some of the current ETBC players. I came away convinced that I could help this team and thought I'd do well the next day.
They had a big 6'9" black guy, Nathan Hollis, from Gilmer, TX who was a center for the varsity. I hit him with so many good quick passes off drives for easy layups, it was incredible. The only problem was, he dropped most of the passes. The coach said they were good passes but Nathan wasn't used to getting passes that were that quick.
There was also a kid (Frank?) there from a small school in Many, Louisiana. He was a class A All-State player in LA and was a 6'2" guard. He was an excellent shooter with a terminal case of acne. He ended up with a full 4-year scholarship to ETBC. He was a really nice guy but not too smart. There was another kid, 6'3" guard from around Houston that ended up at Jacksonville Junior College. And, the only other guy I remember was a small 5'10" guy from Indiana who was a starting guard for ETBC as a freshman.
The tryout consisted primarily of several full court scrimmages. I played tremendous defense, stuffing the freshman starter and stealing the ball often from the 6'3" guy from Houston. The only problem, I couldn't make a shot to save my life. I even missed an uncontested layup after I'd stolen the ball at mid-court from the 6'3" guy.
I knew I could play for this team. I was better than the freshman they had starting on the varsity and was as good as any other guard there, at least in my mind. I didn't get a scholarship offer but was encouraged to play as a walk on. They gave scholarships to guys from small schools (class A and B, now class 2A and 1A) that had made All-District or better. If you didn't make All-District you must not be good enough, even if you had played in a much higher (4A now 5A) and tougher competition class of basketball. A guy I met later at ETBC said the coach had a "big school complex" and wanted to be able to say he had recruited all these All-District abd All-State players, even if they were from tiny schools and not as good as guys who went to big schools but didn't make All-District. They also signed guys who played another sport besides basketball. Some of the 2-sport scholarships included golf, track, abd baseball. I only did basketball. Although I had run a 4:39 mile I didn't want to run track.
Several weeks later was the Hill JC tryout. I drove down to Hillsboro after school and arrived a little late. I was the last guy there and they had a 10,000 people who had showed up to tryout. Really, there were probably about 60 or so, too many to get a good look if they didn't know you. The only person there that I knew was Owen Barnett from Sam Houston. Owen had been All-District and averaged about 25 points a game.
We did a bunch of one on one drills and I was great. I was making shots, beating guys on the dribble, and really doing well. I even had great jump that day. On one drill I beat my guy, drove for the layup, and laid it in. I was so high on the layup that I actually hit my elbow on the backboard. When we broke up into teams for the scrimmages it was obvious who they intended to really look at by the team you were put on. I ended up on a team with Owen that had 5 guards. The team we played had 6'3" black kid who had played center in high school, a forward and 3 guards. Since I was the tallest guy on my team I had to play center. Like I said earlier, I had great spring in my legs that day, and I won the tip.
If I had played as well at ETBC as I played at Hill I would have gotten a scholarship to ETBC. At Hill I simply didn't have a shot. Owen was invited back for another tryout after his coach called Hill. With his awards and track record, he deserved a legitimate shot. He ended up playing there 2 years on scholarship.
I also talked with a representative from Houston Baptist who said they'd give me an academic scholarship that would cover 50% of my tuition and I could walk on, but 50% there was more money than 100% at ETBC. Besides, I knew I could play at ETBC and decided to go there. I cancelled my dorm room reservation at Texas Tech, a fact I'm sure makes Ben happy, and enrolled at ETBC.
After my senior season was over there was very little prospect of me playing college basketball but I was invited to two tryouts, East Texas Baptist College in Marshall and Hill Country Junior College in Hillsboro. I was invited to ETBC because of Ken ? whose wife was the ETBC President's daughter. He had seen the first half of the game against Sam Houston at EHHS when I scored 17, didn't miss a shot from the field, and made a nice move and layup on a 1 on 2 fastbreak. The invitation to Hill was really a blanket invitation to everyone on our team.
I went to ETBC first. The tryout day was on a Saturday and Gary and I drove down Friday afternoon. That evening I went down to the gym and played with some of the guys that were trying out and some of the current ETBC players. I came away convinced that I could help this team and thought I'd do well the next day.
They had a big 6'9" black guy, Nathan Hollis, from Gilmer, TX who was a center for the varsity. I hit him with so many good quick passes off drives for easy layups, it was incredible. The only problem was, he dropped most of the passes. The coach said they were good passes but Nathan wasn't used to getting passes that were that quick.
There was also a kid (Frank?) there from a small school in Many, Louisiana. He was a class A All-State player in LA and was a 6'2" guard. He was an excellent shooter with a terminal case of acne. He ended up with a full 4-year scholarship to ETBC. He was a really nice guy but not too smart. There was another kid, 6'3" guard from around Houston that ended up at Jacksonville Junior College. And, the only other guy I remember was a small 5'10" guy from Indiana who was a starting guard for ETBC as a freshman.
The tryout consisted primarily of several full court scrimmages. I played tremendous defense, stuffing the freshman starter and stealing the ball often from the 6'3" guy from Houston. The only problem, I couldn't make a shot to save my life. I even missed an uncontested layup after I'd stolen the ball at mid-court from the 6'3" guy.
I knew I could play for this team. I was better than the freshman they had starting on the varsity and was as good as any other guard there, at least in my mind. I didn't get a scholarship offer but was encouraged to play as a walk on. They gave scholarships to guys from small schools (class A and B, now class 2A and 1A) that had made All-District or better. If you didn't make All-District you must not be good enough, even if you had played in a much higher (4A now 5A) and tougher competition class of basketball. A guy I met later at ETBC said the coach had a "big school complex" and wanted to be able to say he had recruited all these All-District abd All-State players, even if they were from tiny schools and not as good as guys who went to big schools but didn't make All-District. They also signed guys who played another sport besides basketball. Some of the 2-sport scholarships included golf, track, abd baseball. I only did basketball. Although I had run a 4:39 mile I didn't want to run track.
Several weeks later was the Hill JC tryout. I drove down to Hillsboro after school and arrived a little late. I was the last guy there and they had a 10,000 people who had showed up to tryout. Really, there were probably about 60 or so, too many to get a good look if they didn't know you. The only person there that I knew was Owen Barnett from Sam Houston. Owen had been All-District and averaged about 25 points a game.
We did a bunch of one on one drills and I was great. I was making shots, beating guys on the dribble, and really doing well. I even had great jump that day. On one drill I beat my guy, drove for the layup, and laid it in. I was so high on the layup that I actually hit my elbow on the backboard. When we broke up into teams for the scrimmages it was obvious who they intended to really look at by the team you were put on. I ended up on a team with Owen that had 5 guards. The team we played had 6'3" black kid who had played center in high school, a forward and 3 guards. Since I was the tallest guy on my team I had to play center. Like I said earlier, I had great spring in my legs that day, and I won the tip.
If I had played as well at ETBC as I played at Hill I would have gotten a scholarship to ETBC. At Hill I simply didn't have a shot. Owen was invited back for another tryout after his coach called Hill. With his awards and track record, he deserved a legitimate shot. He ended up playing there 2 years on scholarship.
I also talked with a representative from Houston Baptist who said they'd give me an academic scholarship that would cover 50% of my tuition and I could walk on, but 50% there was more money than 100% at ETBC. Besides, I knew I could play at ETBC and decided to go there. I cancelled my dorm room reservation at Texas Tech, a fact I'm sure makes Ben happy, and enrolled at ETBC.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Strick
You know you are getting old when one of the kids you grew up with dies of health related causes. We buried Mark Strickland last week. He died of a heart attack at the age of 55. His son was in the 8th or 9th grade which is strange because Mark's dad died of a heart atack when Mark was in the 9th grade.
I don't really remember Mark in elementary school. My first real rememberance of him was when he was in the 7th grade and I was in the 9th grade. Although I was only a year older, I was 2 grades ahead of him because I started 1st grade at age 5. Mark and I roomed together on our church's first Youth Chior tour. Remember, I was a little guy. I was 5'2" when I started my sophomore year, but Mark made me look big. Mark was really a little kid growing up. I remembering him asking me about girls and how you get them to like you and kiss you and stuff.
I also remember us going to an amusement park in Oklahoma City on that chior tour. There was a fancy red cadillac convertible, highly waxed and shiny, with Illinois plates parked in the lot with the top down. We couldn't believe such a nice car was sitting on the parking lot totally open and unlocked. As we were admiring the car a black guy walked up to use and told us to "go ahead, reach into the car." We looked at him questionally and he said, "go ahead, it's my car." We reached into the car and I don't think we had even touched anything when the horn started blaring and an alarm started sounding. The man quicly shut off the alarm and said, "You gotta have an alarm system like that if you want to keep a car in Chicago."
The next year I started fooling around with a girl (Cindy) in Mark's class at different church trips. She was going with a guy named Guy Davie who was a football star at Nichols and much bigger than Mark. I don't know how or why but somehow Mark and Guy got into a fight over me and Cindy. Mark and Leonard Sanderson had to give me a complete blow by blow account about how Mark had whipped him. Mark was small, but he was tough.
After his dad died, Mark's mother married her dad's brother and they moved to North Carolina. Two years later they were divorced and Mark, his mom, and his little brother Lynn had moved back to Arlington. In the years he in North Carolina Mark grew up a lot and played a lot of basketball. Basketball was king in North Carolina and everyone played that all the time instead of football or baseball. Besides getting bigger Mark had become a pretty good basketball player.
I was now a sophmore in college and Mark was a senior in high school and we played on the FBC men's basketball team at church. That would start a number of years playing basketball together. That will be a separate story. Mark also was working in the mailroom at the Citizen Journal with Verne and me. He continued to work in the mailroom while he went to college at UTA and I moved to the front office and worked in the accounting department. The C-J had a softball team.
I think I told this story in another post, but no story about Strick would be complete without it. We were playing a game at Randol Mill park and I thinkwe were losing. Mark was trying to motivate eveyone and was hollering stuff. Jerry Hyde was the General Sales Manager, stood about 6'2" 240 pounds, and had been drinking. He didn't take well to Mark's encouragement and told him to shutup. Mark, being the banty rooster, combative person that he was said "No'. Jerry had been sitting on the bench instead those chain link dugouts and he started coming out after Mark. It was 180' down the right field line to the 5-foot fence. Mark made the fence and jumped it in about 2 seconds.
Later, when we played on the church softball team, we were playing the Word of Victory church team for first place. The score was close and they were mouthing and had taken a couple of cheap shots. Mark was playing first base when one of their guys grounded out and proceeded to run up Mark's legs. Mark had already had multiple knee surgeries and was already amd and intense from the game. When the guy ran over Mark's legs the tripped and sprawled over the ground behind Mark down the first base line. Mark was on him in a flash, had him turned over, and had his fist lifted ready to smash him in the face. I was playing second base and hollered, "No, Mark, no!" That was enough to bring Mark back to his senses and he didn't hit him. We went on to win the game. Later that season we played Word of Victory in a rematch and beat them again. This time the score wasn't close. They also didn't mouth off or play dirty. I think they scared of us and especially of Mark.
As the years went on Mark and I stayed in touch through church. After we quit playing baskeball and softball we only saw each other on occasion. I wasn;t a golfing or drinking buddy, but we remained friends.
Strick was the first of my childhood friends to die. I guess I am getting a little older.
I don't really remember Mark in elementary school. My first real rememberance of him was when he was in the 7th grade and I was in the 9th grade. Although I was only a year older, I was 2 grades ahead of him because I started 1st grade at age 5. Mark and I roomed together on our church's first Youth Chior tour. Remember, I was a little guy. I was 5'2" when I started my sophomore year, but Mark made me look big. Mark was really a little kid growing up. I remembering him asking me about girls and how you get them to like you and kiss you and stuff.
I also remember us going to an amusement park in Oklahoma City on that chior tour. There was a fancy red cadillac convertible, highly waxed and shiny, with Illinois plates parked in the lot with the top down. We couldn't believe such a nice car was sitting on the parking lot totally open and unlocked. As we were admiring the car a black guy walked up to use and told us to "go ahead, reach into the car." We looked at him questionally and he said, "go ahead, it's my car." We reached into the car and I don't think we had even touched anything when the horn started blaring and an alarm started sounding. The man quicly shut off the alarm and said, "You gotta have an alarm system like that if you want to keep a car in Chicago."
The next year I started fooling around with a girl (Cindy) in Mark's class at different church trips. She was going with a guy named Guy Davie who was a football star at Nichols and much bigger than Mark. I don't know how or why but somehow Mark and Guy got into a fight over me and Cindy. Mark and Leonard Sanderson had to give me a complete blow by blow account about how Mark had whipped him. Mark was small, but he was tough.
After his dad died, Mark's mother married her dad's brother and they moved to North Carolina. Two years later they were divorced and Mark, his mom, and his little brother Lynn had moved back to Arlington. In the years he in North Carolina Mark grew up a lot and played a lot of basketball. Basketball was king in North Carolina and everyone played that all the time instead of football or baseball. Besides getting bigger Mark had become a pretty good basketball player.
I was now a sophmore in college and Mark was a senior in high school and we played on the FBC men's basketball team at church. That would start a number of years playing basketball together. That will be a separate story. Mark also was working in the mailroom at the Citizen Journal with Verne and me. He continued to work in the mailroom while he went to college at UTA and I moved to the front office and worked in the accounting department. The C-J had a softball team.
I think I told this story in another post, but no story about Strick would be complete without it. We were playing a game at Randol Mill park and I thinkwe were losing. Mark was trying to motivate eveyone and was hollering stuff. Jerry Hyde was the General Sales Manager, stood about 6'2" 240 pounds, and had been drinking. He didn't take well to Mark's encouragement and told him to shutup. Mark, being the banty rooster, combative person that he was said "No'. Jerry had been sitting on the bench instead those chain link dugouts and he started coming out after Mark. It was 180' down the right field line to the 5-foot fence. Mark made the fence and jumped it in about 2 seconds.
Later, when we played on the church softball team, we were playing the Word of Victory church team for first place. The score was close and they were mouthing and had taken a couple of cheap shots. Mark was playing first base when one of their guys grounded out and proceeded to run up Mark's legs. Mark had already had multiple knee surgeries and was already amd and intense from the game. When the guy ran over Mark's legs the tripped and sprawled over the ground behind Mark down the first base line. Mark was on him in a flash, had him turned over, and had his fist lifted ready to smash him in the face. I was playing second base and hollered, "No, Mark, no!" That was enough to bring Mark back to his senses and he didn't hit him. We went on to win the game. Later that season we played Word of Victory in a rematch and beat them again. This time the score wasn't close. They also didn't mouth off or play dirty. I think they scared of us and especially of Mark.
As the years went on Mark and I stayed in touch through church. After we quit playing baskeball and softball we only saw each other on occasion. I wasn;t a golfing or drinking buddy, but we remained friends.
Strick was the first of my childhood friends to die. I guess I am getting a little older.
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