My Heavenly Teammates
Sports can teach you more about life than just about any activity or academic course. You learn discipline, conditioning, goal setting and, more than anything else, teamwork. As teammates, you go through hard times and learn to work as a cohesive unit. That’s one of the reasons that the locker room is a sacred sanctuary.
Since most of us are in the fourth quarter of our game of life, we have lost count of the teammates who have gone on to the Heavenly fields, diamonds and courts Above. In high school, CCHS offered 3 sports: football, basketball and baseball. I played all 3 from the 8th grade through my senior year. I never claimed to be outstanding BUT wouldn’t take anything in the world for the teammates that I had.
The practices, games, rivalries, injuries, bus rides, locker rooms, big wins, bad losses, football camps and hard-nosed coaches put an impression in my soul that could never be erased. That’s why we played the game.
Many of my teammates have died but I refuse to let their memory die. Like many of you, I think of them often. Here are a few memories:
Since these players were at least five years older than me, I only played baseball with them: Dwain Cantrell, William Berryman, and Bobby Prince. Cantrell was one of Daddy’s favorite players who had the nickname of “Mule.” His knuckleball would buckle your knees. Berryman was a great athlete who gave his life for our freedom in Viet Nam. Bob Prince confessed to me that my mother, through her speech class, gave him the confidence to speak in public. He became one of the top attorneys in Tuscaloosa and the state of Alabama. Another older player, Butch Reding was a good catcher. Who we lost too soon.
The class of 1968 was seniors when I was a sophomore. Colbert County High School played Russellville for the very first Alabama state championship football game in December 1967. We barely lost but those memories and hurt from that loss still sting after almost 60 years. Many of the team leaders have gone on: quarterback Dempsey Dickerson, tackle Mike Jordan, linebacker William McCormack, and running back Roy Jr. McCormack. Daddy took a lot of time with the “original” Mike Jordan by hiring him to cut firewood with us on Saturday mornings.
I was closer to the McCormack cousins since we played baseball together during the school year and again in the summer. William was an excellent pitcher while Roy Jr. played infield. Both signed football scholarships and could hit a baseball a mile. Roy Jr. ended up using his skills on the golf course. One of the catchers on our team, Donald Ford, was a hard-nosed player.
Fortunately, the real leader of that team, Jimmy Isbell, is still with us.
Three of the deceased football players from the class of 1969 were Ricky Richey, Fuzz Marler and Jackie Trousdale. Ricky and Jackie started on the state champion runner-up team, their junior year. We recently lost Donald, better known as “Fuzz.”
This brings me to my class of 1970. It hurts to even list my former gone teammates, but here goes (by memory): Dennis Ritchie, Robert Bates, Ben Gasque, Mike Simmons, Steve Flanagan, Steve Richey, and Jackie Powell. It’s impossible to remember our class of athletes without remembering two of our dear departed cheerleaders, Regina Howard McNatt and Dianne Rainey Gargis. They loved their Indians.
Dennis Ritchie and I attended all 12 years of school together. We played Little League together and Dennis was a really good quarterback. We did everything together from music, to shooting pool and camping trips. We later pulled purlins together on a construction crew. I recruited Robert Bates to transfer from Leighton Training School our junior year. Robert Bates changed the way Indian basketball was played. “Foley” (his nickname) was my first really close black friend and we signed athletic scholarships to Athens College our senior years.
I have kidded for over 55 years that I am the only player to ever sign a “chauffer” scholarship to transport Big Robert back and forth to Athens. We even roomed together on road trips. I later signed his son, Robert, Jr., to a football scholarship when I was at Louisville. I was holding Foley’s hand when he passed away and was honored that the Bates family asked me to do his eulogy.
Ben Gasque played fullback and was the “King of Spring Valley.” My dad was friends with his dad, Jabbo, and loved to tell the tale that Daddy told all the players in junior high: “Hide your money and wallets call the Spring Valley boys are here.” Our recent loss of Mike Simmons hit hard. Mike ran Simmons Tire for years and my mother would never think of buying tires anywhere else. I will miss seeing him at the St. Jude Trail Ride.
Jackie Powell and I played basketball and football together. Jackie and my close friend, Dennis Cameron, were cousins. My sister, Susan, introduced those two to the Davis twins, Nancy and Carole, her Phi Mu sorority sisters, at the University of Alabama. The two couples eventually married and raised successful families. We lost Dennis a few years ago, where he was an outstanding CPA in Birmingham and worked tirelessly with the First and 10 Club which mentors student athletes at Bama. We now have an endowed scholarship in Cameron’s name.
All four of our coaches, CT Manley, Jerry Daily, Don Creasy and Daddy are Up There demanding even more of these teammates.
They may be gone but one thing will carry on:
Those Heavenly memories.
Roll Tribe.