Saturday, August 12, 2006

Sports: Vintage Spectators

And now Peach Fuzz takes a moment to pay tribute to the unsung gladiators of the Mustang games. Butch's story below reminds us of the hard lessons of young men in training... for spectator sports, that is ... you remember them, the usual suspects... our hometown rascals always ensured that we neither took ourselves too seriously nor allowed our egos to inflate on the playing field.

Butch Class of 60: This is about sports. At least there was a sporting event going on when this little adventure happened. During a high school B-Team basketball game (I think it might have been our senior year, not sure), the score was close and the Mustang B-Team was working hard. Late in the game, with the score tied, the other team scored to go ahead.

The Mustangs took the ball inbounds and Giles Riffey started bringing it back up the court with at least 30-40 seconds to go. Plenty of time to run a play and take a good shot. A few Mustang "fans" up in the top part of the bleachers (where the guys usually hung out) started a countdown (a bit early). Five-four-three... Well, ol' Giles got caught up in the cadence and forgot to check the clock. He jacked up an ill-advised and poorly aimed thirty-footer well before the other Mustangs had made it back down court. It clanged off to the side and was rebounded by the opposing team. They dribbled out the clock to win by two.

After the horn sounded, the "fans" were still howling with laughter at Giles's "decision." Well, sports fans, Coach Devazier was the B-Team coach and he wasn't happy. If you remember, the stands were elevated about ten feet above the floor and, unless they were needed, the bleacher seats would fold back against the wall creating a blind spot when viewed from above.

Coach Devazier's head appeared out from under that area. His eyes were burning holes in every guy up near the top of the stands, memorizing every single one of them. To say the least, the laughter died suddenly and every male in the area moved quickly to another area. As soon as he could get his team off the court, Coach Devazier came up into those stands two steps at a time.

Now folks, all I can say is, I was not one of those who did the countdown. However, I did laugh and I did scatter along with the others when Coach Devazier made his visual inventory. He was sure I was one of the "clowns" involved in the countdown and grabbed me by the collar while he questioned me in a particularly un-teacher-like manner. Apparently, either I convinced him I was innocent, or he was after bigger fish and I survived. The area was strangely empty during the rest of the season.

Bogie Class of 62: I wish I could "spin" a yarn as good as my old friend Butch! I'll give this one a whirl---do you girls remember when PE was a requirement and we all had to "dress out" every day--even if we "didn't feel like it"? Ms Smart would call roll and you were to simply say "here" or, if you "didn't feel like it" you were to say "on the list"!! Anyone remember what "on the list" indicated?
P.S. The gym was split down the middle on the days we had to stay inside for PE. All the guys would line up on the center line to see who would be "on the list" that day. Holy Cow!! We dreaded roll call!


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Butch, I love that story! I laughed all day and told people at work about it.I said you probably did it too and played like Eddie Haskle! Dora

Tue Aug 15, 05:23:00 PM 2006  

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