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 For example, they rescinded the scholarship on the freshman starting guard I had met because he shacked up with a girl from the school one weekend.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.

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.

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.

1740 Sharon

I was born in Sweetwater, Texas but my family quicly moved to the Arlington area when my dad got a job with Vought aircraft. Initially, we moved to Grand Prairie but, after a few months, bought a new house at 1740 Sharon Street in Arlington. Sharon street was directly west of C. B. Berry Elementary, right off Browning Street. Running along the east border of the school was New York Avenue and on the other side of the street was a big Cotton field surrounding a large farmhouse.

The house was wood frame with a light green color paint, like the cabins in the mountains, and had 3 bedrooms, 1 bath, a kitchen with a small eating area, and a combination living/dining room. There were hardwood floors throughout, except for linoleum in the kitchen and bathroom. Gary and I shared a bedroom, my folks were in another, and we used the largest bedroom as a den. There was no air conditioning. We had a big evaporative cooler. (That's a big fan with a water reservoir at the bottom. The fan evaporates the water by blowing over it and out into the room, cooling the air somewhat.) The cooler was in the den, positioned so that it blew done the hallway toward the kitchen. Hopefully, along the way, some cool air would get into each room. When I was 10 or 11 my folks got a window A/C unit for their room. There was a gas heater in the living room that always looked like to me that it had a mechanical man inside. I think there was a small gas heater in the bathroom, too. The total size was almost 1,000 square feet. The house had a large backyard with a nice sized patio and a covered front porch.

My earliest memory was Gary and I peeking out the front door to our neighbor's house on the east and looking at the little boy in that house who was peeking around his screen door at us. When we saw each other we quickly closed the door and ran back inside. Then we'd look out again, see each other, and run back inside. We kept doing that until eventually we met the little boy. The boy was David Purcell. He was Gary's age and his dad worked at Vought, Temco, Bell or one of the aircraft companies.

All of the houses were new, inexpensive, and owned by young families with small children. On our side of the street were the Purcell's to the east and then to the west the Wiseman's and the Dickey's. Across the street from the Purcell's were the Ferguson's and then the McAlister's, ???, Keener's, Brouillette's, a family with a son my age named Chuck, and a couple of houses futher, the Harrigan's. They all had kids around our age. I already told you about David Purcell. Then there was Frank and Wade Wiseman. Frank was a couple of years older than Gary and wade was my age. The Dickey's had Glenn, Gary's age, Paul (also known as Doody) a couple of years younger, David, a couple of years younger still, and another brother even younger. The Ferguson's had a boy much older than us, about Sis Erin's age or older, and Martha, my age. The McAlister's had a boy Sean who was my age and the house next to him didn't have any kids. That's why I can't remember their name. The Keener's had 3 or 4 boys, all older. Kenny was a year older than Gary, Billy was a couple of years older than that, and the other(s) were several years older. The Brouillette's had Mike, Gary's age, and Maureen, Bunny's age. The Harrigan's and a boy and girl the same age as the Brouillette's. I can't remember their names. Anyway, there were 8-12 boys of an age close enough that we could play baseball, football, or other games together, so we spent all our time outside playing. When we played hide and seek that game could be spread over several houses on both sides of the street.

David was left handed and grew up to be a pretty good pitcher. He played for the Bankers and, along with Mike Nichole, led them to our league championship when they were 12 and I was 11. He also pitched for Sam Houston in high school. Mrs. Purcell was Catholic but I think Mr. Purcell was Methodist. I don't ever remember seeing them go to church. Two other remembrances of David were: (1) Once Gary held my arms behind my back so David could punch me in the stomach. When my dad got home, he held Gary and let me punch him in the stomach. (2) We were playing tackle football in his front yard with no pads. I was tackled and hit the back of my head on the sidewalk. My head got busted open and needed 3 stitches to close it up.

The Wiseman's were originally from Illinios and Mrs. Wiseman was "Yankee" through and through and smoked. I didn't like her much. Mr. Wiseman was a tall, skinny, really nice guy. He was a salesman for Watkins, a company that sold products like Amway but it was a regular business, not multi-level marketing. Frank wore glasses and, despite being several years older than us, he wasn't much of an athlete. I remember a Little League game when he was the runner on 3rd base. The batter hit a ball down the line and it hit Frank standing on the base for the 3rd out. Wade was a much better athlete. They moved back to Illinios before he was 12. He came back to Arlington on vacation when he was 25-30 and came over to our house. He was a motorcycle racer. The other thing I remember about Frank and Wade was that they were saved in the same revival as Gary and me. I made my profession of faith first and Brother East came to our house to talk to me further since I was only 6. While he was there Gary also made a profession of faith. He then went next door to the Wiseman's and Frank and Wade made profession of faith. They all walked down the aisle at the revival meeting, I think on a Friday night. The Wiseman's were baptized on Saturday and Gary and I on Sunday.

Glenn wasn't much of an athlete either and Paul, David, and the other brothers were really too young. You had to tryout for Little League and you weren't guaranteed to make a team. When Glenn was 11 he tried out for Little League but didn't make it. His parents and a bunch of other parents went to the Optimists who sponsored the Arlington Little Leagues and demanded a change. They insituted a minor league for the kids who didn't make the "major" league teams, but after a couple of years moved everyone into the same league and guaranteeed spots for everyone who wanted to play. One time Wade Wiseman and I started a "club". The initiation was you had to drink pee out of a dog food can. We told Paul and David that we had both done it and if they wanted to be in our club they would have to do it too. Paul didn't believe we'd done it, so we peed in a can and I put it up to my lips and faked drinking it by swallowing saliva. I then put on a nasty face and ran for the water hose. Of course, I never drank it but they thought I had, so Paul did it. He took a big swallow and then ran for the water hose. We told David to just fake it and he did and ran to the water hose, too. Kids can be mean. The other thing I remember about the Dickey's was smoking my one and only cigarette. Wade, Paul, David, their little brother, and me were all out in front of my garage. I guess the Dickey's parents smoked because they had a cigarette and the little brother who was about 5 really enjoyed smoking. We lit the cigarette and I took a puff. It burned my throat! It was horrible! I've never taken another puff in my life. Wade tried it too with the same result, but the little 5 year old just smoked away.

On down the street was a family with two boys 6 or 7 years younger than me. One of them looked just like me. It was incredible. Of course, I liked him a lot, but I don't remember his name.

I'll tell you more about the other side of the street in another post.

1740 Sharon - the other side of the street

On the other side of the street, starting across from the Purcels were the Fergusons. They went to our church and had a girl my age, Martha, another girl a couple of years older, and a son several years older, probably Steve East's age or more. Martha was not good looking and not very smart. I never had anything to do with her, even at church. She's still a member of our church. She used to live in one of the low rent apartments that were torn down for the new Cowboys stadium. She and her husband, I think they're married, rode bicycles to church and sat in the foyer. I haven't seen her in several months but I remember her being so happy one day when I did see her and said "Hello, Martha." It's amazing how a simple "Hello" can seemingly brighten someone's day.



Next to her and across from our house was Sean McAlister who was my age. He wasn't an athlete but he had more board games than anyone I can remember. I used to go over there a lot and we'd play Chutes and Ladders, Life, and other games.

Next was a house that didn;t have kids and then the Kenners. They had 3 or 4 boys. Kenny was a year or two older than me and Billy was a year or two older than that. They other boys were much older. Kenny and Billy would play football and baseball with the neighborhood. I'll never forget two baseball games involving Billy. We were playing with some kids from another neighborhood and Mike Hedlund was pitching. Hedlund was a big red-headed kid and could really throw the ball. He was 12 and I was 9. He could have struck me out on 3 pitches, so Billy, playing left field, sat down when I came up. For fun, Hedlund decided to try throwing a knuckleball rather than simply striking me out on 3 fastballs. I smashed the 2nd pitch over Billy's head and got a home run. The other event I remember was having a brand new bat that I'd brought up to the field to hit with. I was playing left field and Billy decided to use my bat instead of his own and he broke it. I cried all the way home carrying my brand new broken bat.

Next to the Kenners was a family with a boy my age, also named Charles, but who everyone called "Chuck". He was a dork, a gangly, dumb kid that I didn't like. Because of him, I never let anyone call me Chuck to this day.

The Brouillettes had a son my age and a girl a few years older. Mike was a lot of fun and we'd play together all the time. When I accepted Christ as my Savior I tried to witness to Mike. He was a Catholic. As I was talking to him Wade Wiseman came over and started making fun of me. That hurt becasue he and both had just made professions of faith and had been baptized that week and I couldn't believe he was making fun of me for trying to tell someone else about Christ. I'm sure that experience inhibited me from sharing the gospel with anyone else for many years. Mike also woked in the CJ mailroom with Verne and me years later. He lives in Red Oak, I think, now. His sister Maureen and the Harrigan girl who lived a couple more houses down would sometimes have backyard plays. They'd charge a dime or something and we'd go watch them. They'd use a bedspread for the stage curtains and the shows were always fun. She's an artist now and has paintings at the Upstairs Gallery. Her dad was a nationally acclaimed watercolor painter who sold through the Gallery.

A couple of houses further down were the Harrigans. The main thing I remember with them was the summer that I sold tomatoes from our garden in the country, 2 pounds for 20 cents. They wanted only the cherry tomatoes.

Our neighborhood played the Farhat/Barnett neighborhood in baseball and football a couple of times. They had a great baseball field on a block in the middle of thier neighborhood where no houses had been built. I don't know who won, I just know we had a good time. The Farhat's daddy was Big Daddy as in Big Daddy's liquor store. I would play basketball against Owen Barnett later on in high school. I think Huey and Denny Insell were in that neighborhood as well. Denny was on the First Methodist men's basketball team that I'll tell you about later. And, a kid with the last name Vaughn was also in that neighborhood. He was a grade ahead of me and played quarterback on the football team. He peed in his uniform pants at the start of every game.

It was fun growing up on 1740 Sharon. We'd treat ot treat in an area from Abram on the north, Park Row on the south, New York Avenue on the east, and Meadowbrook Park on the west. Lots and lots of candy, haunted houses in people's garage, and just plain old fun without having to worry if any wierdo was going to do something.

Senior Year Basketball - District Play

Non-district play and the tournaments are over and the calendar has turned over to a new year (1968) as we begin district play. Due to intergration I.M. Terrell and Dunbar, the two all-black high schools, were added to our district creating a 9-team district. Rather than have a 16 game district schedule, the school district opted to split the district into zones.

Poly, Arlington Heights, Trimble Tech, Dunbar, and EHHS were placed in one zone. I.M. Terrell, Paschal, Carter-Riverside, and North Side were placed in the other zone. I can't remember if Diamond Hill was also in that zone or iff they played in a lower classification. If they were in the zone that would have made it a 10-team district and an 18-game schedule without the zones. Paschal, Carter, and North Side were all poor teams giving Terrell a free shot to the district championship game. Poly, Heights, and EHHS were all musch superior to any team in the other zone except Terrell. Dunbar and Tech were as good as any of the other teams, so our zone was much tougher. In the pre-district forecast the Star Telegram rated us as "probably the 4th best team in their zone on paper, but they'll find a way to finish second." Riddle was our tallest player at 6'4" and the other teams all had bigger guys. They were right, we did finish second.

Our first game was against Arlington Heights whom we had just beaten by 30 points in the Lions Club tournament. Our team wasn't a 30 points better team. We were really very evenly matched, we were just super hot in the tournament. The district game was a much closer game. It was also one of only a couple of games that we had that were filmed. We played our 1-3-1 zone with me on the top, Riddle in the middle, Hall and Worley on the wings, and Groody on the baseline. Heights attacked the zone differently than they had in the tournament and exploited the baseline. They drove the baseline and were either getting around Groody or getting fouls called on him and really beating us underneath. One of my worst memories was at the end of the half. They scored with three seconds to go and went ahead by one. I grabbed the ball out of bounds and tried to throw it downcourt so we'd have a chance at a last second shot. One of their guys was in my face as I threw and deflected the ball into the lane by their basket where another guy picked it up and they scored again. A horrible play on my part. I had no business trying to force the pass. They went on to win the game by 5 or 6 points. We all made so many mistakes that Coach Howerton, after making us watch the entire game film once, said he was going to burn it. WE NEVER SAW IT AGAIN.

Our next game was against Poly. They were the favorite to win our league. The had a 6-9" post man who was very good, Bob Bounds a 6'5" or 6'6" forward who was really good, a really quick 5'11" left handed point guard and several other good players. They could play an 8 or 9 man rotation without a drop off in quality. We played a 6 man rotation. In preparation for the game we made a couple of changes. I was moved to the baseline on the 1-3-1 so that no one could beat us down there again. Worley was moved to the point and Groody was moved to the wing. With me on the baseline the wing guys had to be more active (remember Coach Howerton was trying to get them to do that back in the Castleberry game) and they did. Our defense was now actually better. We also worked on a spread 4-corners offense to use against Poly to try and neutralize their height advantage. We could also use the 4-corners to stall away the end of the game in normal situations. Frankly, I didn't like it as an offense to run as a base offense during the game. We started the game well against Poly. Running our normal rotation offense we got ahead by 6 points in the first quarter. We were playing well and they couldn't stop us. Coach Howerton had us change to the 4-corners spread offense for the second quarter and the wheels came off. We lost our intensity, we had a couple of bad calls, and we let them get back in the game and go ahead by half. We went on to lose a close game but now had started out district 0-2.

We beat Tech and Dunbar as expected and were 2-2 for the rematch with Arlington Heights. It was another close back and forth game. There were two plays I vivdly remember late in the game. On one fast break the lead pass to me was thrown too far. I finally grabbed the ball on a full sprint directly under the backboard with Charlie Jenkins their 6'1" guard on my back. As I grabbed the ball I jumped back as best I could toward the basket and flipped the ball behind my head toward the basket. It went in and I was fouled. A picture of the play ran in the Star-Telgram. Later with 11 seconds to go we were down by one. I had the ball on the left side of the court beyond the top of the key. I drove the free throw line, squeezed by Jenkins and split between him and the post guy coming up to help, shot, scored and was fouled. I was excited. I had just scored to put us up by one and the the free throw would make it two. But, wait. The ref said "No basket!" He said I was fouled before the shot. I made the free throw and we won in overtime. I'm still hacked that I didn't get the basket and a free throw. In later years I would make a similar play to "win" the Arlington Church League city championship only to see the ref not only disallow the basket but call a charging foul on me.

I don't remember anything about the Poly rematch except that we lost and I fouled out. Linda Kaye, the freelance photographer who shot mostly for the Fort Worth Press, took my picture on the bench. The Star-Telegram used that picture in their article about me. Again, it was a close game but they were simply bigger, deeper, and better. We akso won the rematches with Tech and Dunbar. I think the Tech game was the last game of the year. As I was dirbbling up court our fans, led by Marge Johnson, started yelling "Shoot Charlie" and laughing. As they continued to call for me to shoot, I decided "Why not!" and put up a 20-25 foot jump shot. Swish, nothing but net! And, so ended my high school career. I averaged 9.5 points for the season and 8.5 for district play. I played almost every minute of every game, at least while the game was in doubt. I had a good season and loved it. It is a memory I will treasure always.

I hope I didn't bore you too much. There are hundreds of details I could have added, but I think you get the picture.

Basketball- Senior Year- Tournament Time

We played in two tournaments - Abilene and the Fort Worth Lions Club tournaments. We had an invitation to play in the Arlington Classic at UTA but it was the same weekend as the Abiliene tournament. Since that was our only out of town opportunity the team voted to play in Abilene.

North Side didn't play in the tournament this year, so, instead of taking a bus, we drove in 3 players' cars and Coach Howerton's car. I decided I wanted to make the all-tournament team and the way to do that was score a lot of points, even though that wasn't my strength or my role on the team.

Our opening game was against Lubbock Monterrey. They were one of the better West Texas teams and won their district. We lost by 4 or 5 points and I scored 15. I also took a lot of bad forced shots and cost us several quality offensive possessions. It was the kind of game that the stats might get me an all-tournament vote but it wasn't winning basketball. In the second game we played Haltom. They ran a full court press the whole game. They also had a guard who was a friend of mine from RA basketball who would jump in front of you and draw a charge. The way things are called today it would probably be called a blocking foul on him. Anyway, our team played poorly and I was atrocious. I didn't score a single point and missed several shots. I wasn't taking wild forced shots, but I wasn't making the shots I was shooting. So much for all-tournament and I lost my starting job for the last game of the tournament. I didn't play at all in the first half but played quite a bit in the second half. I went back to playing the way I was expected to play, scored 4 points, played good defense, didn't force shots, and our team won. I learned a lesson that is as good in life as it was in basketball: Don't try to be something you're not. Do what you can do and do it well. That will make you and your team better.

I mentioned the private cars to tell two stories about them. First, after the game against Monterrey David Lebeouf, the team manager, and Dwight Mitchell, a cheerleader, took David's Mustang and drove to Mexico. They had just enough time to get there and turn around and come back. They drove into the motel parking lot just before we were to leave for our Saturday morning game. No purpose to the trip, they just did it because they could. Dumb!

After the Riverside game we were supposed to meet at a particular restaurant for dinner. Coach gave us the name and said to meet him there in 30 minutes. I was in a car driven by Kim Riddle. Also in the car were Don Groody and Jimmy Swanson. Kim had a Chevy Impala with a big V-8 engine. Following us to the restaurant was Lebeouf with Allen Stanford, a little bitty sophomore kid with the big black plastic rimmed glasses that were the style in that day who was a team manager, and someone else. When we got to the restaurant no one was there. We found out there were three locations for that particularly named restaurant. We looked at the food, it was a cafeteria, and decided not to eat there. We also decided not to try to find the "right" restaurant and figured we'd find something to eat on the way home.

Abilene was 150 miles from Fort Worth and there was no I-20. You had to go through each town and most of the road was two lane highway. LeBeouf and Riddle decided to race home. Even worse, they decided to drink beer while they raced home. The only guys not drinking were the little manager and me. Riddle had the speedometer pegged a 130, that was as high the the speedometer went, and we were still gaining speed. Lebeouf passed us, probably going 135-140. The manager's eyes were as big as saucers in the back seat as they passed. Ahead of us on the highway the road turned to the left and went up a hill. An 18-wheeler was ahead of us. Lebeouf turned off his headlights and "snuck up" on the 18-wheeler. As he started to pass him he flipped on his lights. You could tell the trucker's startled reaction by the way his truck moved momentarily from side to side. We slowed down to 70-80 to go through the towns. Somewhere along the way we stopped at a roadside cafe and had chicken fried steak and all the trimmings. We arrived in Fort Worth 2 hours after leaving Abilene. Take out the 30 minutes for dinner and we made the 150 miles in 1.5 hour, an average speed of 100mph. It was crazy and I'm glad I only experienced it once. I wouldn't want to do it again. We were lucky we weren't killed.

The second tournament was the West Side Lions tournament. We played Lake Worth in the first game and crushed them. It was a total mismatch and everyone on our roster played. I only played the first quarter and scored 2 points. Most of the starters only played the first half. Worley wasn't having a good shooting day and Coach Howerton left him in into the 3rd quarter so that he could get close to his normal game average. Still, he only scored 8 points. The second game was a rematch against Haltom. This time we handled the press a lot better. We also did a better job of avoiding the charge calls. However, once we were going down the court on a fast break. I had the ball near half court and saw Hall open on the side near the free throw line. I also saw the Haltom guy setting up to take a charge. I passed down to Hall and stepped to my right to avoid the charge, but the guy slid over another step, too. I slammed him hard with my left elbow and forearm into the stomach and he crumpled to the floor. They called a foul on me, but it should have been a block. They had to help the Haltom guy off the court. When he came back he didn't try to take any more charges. We won and and I scored 8-10 points.

The 3rd game was against IM Terrell. This was the first year of intergration, although we had played them in a tournament the previous year. They were in a different zone from us in district so this would be the only time we played them unless we met for the district championship playoff. They had several of their key players back from the previous year. They didn't get to do their dunking routine because of the rule change outlawing dunks, but they still all had to be able to dunk in order to make the team. We played a 2-3 zone and really sagged on their big guy, Lee Shaw, a 6'4" guy who could really jump. We invited the guards to shoot the 15' jumper. While they missed some, they also made a bunch.

My first shot early in the first quarter rattled in and out from the top of the key. I wouldn't miss again from the field until my last shot of the game. Later in the quarter I made a 15' jumper and then, as time was running out in the quarter, I made a 25' jumper. Nothing but net!

In the second quarter I made another basket and was open for a 20 footer near the end of the quarter. Worley was determined to take the last shot and was trying to get free even though he was being double teamed. They poked the ball behind him and I was able to run over and retrieve it about 30 feet from the basket with a second on the clock. I jumped and shot, nothing but net! We went into halftime tied or ahead by one or two. Shaw had 4 fouls on him and we were in an excellent position to win. For the quarter we had shot 50%. Terrell had shot 80%. We had no turnovers and had allowed almost no offensive rebounds. That's why we were still ahead even though they were shooting such a high percentage.

In the third quarter is was still a close game. After a foul call on them, a double cup full of ice came flying onto the court from high in the stands and hit just a few feet in front of me at mid-court. At least it wasn't a whiskey bottle like they'd thrown the year before against Paschal, but the damage was done. The refs were now scared. I kept setting up in front of Shaw and let him run over me but they wouldn't call the 5th foul on him. Riddle fouled out midway in the third quarter. Shaw could do whatever he wanted and no foul was called. I still hadn't missed a shot since the first one and with three seconds to go in the 3rd quarter it was our ball out of bounds near half court and we were ahead by one. I made Worley throw it in to me. Standing in the corner of the halfcourt line and the sideline I took the inbounds pass and heaved a shot toward the basket, off the glass and in! We were ahead by three. I had made last second shots at the end of each quarter from successively further distances - 25', 30', and half court.

The fourth quarter continued with the refs afraid to make a call against Terrell. I was really tired. I played the whole game with no substitution. I was fouled once and had trouble shooting the free throws because I was so tired. I should have called time out so we could rest. Terrell had rotated 8-10 players in so they were much fresher in the 4th quarter. They got ahead of us. Without Riddle in for us they were getting offensive rebounds and scoring. We were get one shot and that was it. I turned the ball over on a poor pass to Hall and then missed a shot from the side. They ended up winning by 6. In the last minute they finally called the 5th foul on Shaw but the game was already over. The refs came into our locker and apologized after the game. They said they were scared.

In the Fort Worth Star Telegram story of the game the headline was "Terrell holds off hot shooting Highlanders". If you looked at the stats they shot a much higher percentage, ours were just from further away. The story also read "Gary" Goodyear did this and that. Bob Hood, the sportswriter, knew my brother Gary's name from football and just assumed it was G Goodyear instead of C Goodyear. He made it up later in the season by featuring me in a 1/4 page story with picture.

In the last game of the tournament we played Arlington Heights and beat them by 30 points. Again, even though I was shooting and scoring well Worley hogged the ball. On one 2 on 1 fastbreak he wouldn't throw me the ball. Finally, he threw a behind the back pass below my knees. In full running stride I couldn't reach the ball and kicked it out of bounds. Despite the 2 point opening game, I averaged 10 points for the tournament. I played well and I played within myself. More importantly, the team won.

We either played in another tournament that I forgot about or we played another game in the Lions Club tournament because we played Paschal. Like Terrell, they were in another zone for district play but we played them in a tournament game. We drilled them, beat them by 10 or more but they played the whole game at a slow, slow pace. We were running a 2-3 zone defense and they would simply hold the ball out front. They wouldn't try to penetrate. There was no shot clock so they weren't doing anything illegal, just boring. Charlie Turner was their coach and he was a strict disciplinarian. Anyway, that's what I remember of the tournaments. Next post, district play.