Coaches Mac and Culley and radio announcer Warren Hasse (The Voice of The Harvesters, Pampa KPDN) would drop by each room, and after some small talk about the game, it was lights out. But tonight, we were ‘feeling frisky’, so after a thirty-minute wait, it was out the door, down the exit stairs, quickly out the front door, and walking the sidewalks of downtown Lubbock. Carloads of girls were everywhere, and we didn’t waste any time in flagging them down and flirting with them.
Around twelve, we decided to head back to the hotel. As we entered through the large doors, E. Jay, The Mayor, suddenly dropped to the floor face down like he had been shot. Ken and I are wondering what the heck was wrong with him. He then starts frantically pointing toward the lounge area of the hotel. Ken and I tum to see what he’s pointing toward, and uh-oh, there sits Coach Mac, Coach Culley, and Hasse! . . . but they had their backs to us. FEAR ... it was total. unadulterated FEAR that gripped us. Our reaction was to join the Mayor on the floor without even thinking. Now, you’ve got to use your imagination here . .. five or six people were standing in the lobby who have stopped their conversations to stare at three guys crawling on their hands and knees in single file leaving the front door and heading toward the large curving ball-room like staircase covered in plush red carpet.
We were totally oblivious to those people. Our only thought was, “Dear Lord, please don’t let Coach Mac catch us.” I genuinely believe our crawl was faster than any fast-break we had ever performed in any basketball game. We felt pretty confident after reaching the halfway point to the stairs when we heard, “McIlvain, Griffin, Hinkle; come join us.” DEAD ... yep, we were DEAD.
Need I interject here a reminder of those times when you were a kid, and your momma would stick her head out the back door and holler for you to come home? It’s a voice you would recognize anywhere. Whether in a snow blizzard or a crowd of fifty thousand people, you just knew it was your momma calling! Well, that’s the way it was when Coach Mac called. You immediately recognized it as his distinctive voice carried across the lounge, the lobby, and halfway up those stairs.
So we slowly stood up and started walking to our doom. The big question on each of our minds as we made our way across the lobby was how the heck they saw us since they were still seated with their backs to us. As we entered the lounge, that question was answered very clearly as we were staring at Coach Mac, Coach Culley, and Hasse through their “reflections” in a vast mirror hanging on the opposite wall. They had been watching us from when we entered the front door until we heard our names called!
“Where have your guys been?” We all three answered at the same time. Ken: “I got a Charlie Horse and was walking it off” ... E. Jay: “I couldn’t sleep, Coach, so I was breaking in my new shoes. (Everybody in unison looked down at E. Jay’s new shoes)” I was in the middle of saying my lame excuse, and I even hesitated in mid-sentence to look down at E. Jay’s new shoes.
Coach raised his hand, palm toward us, which was his signal to shut up and pay attention. Then he said in his most stem voice, “You guys have broken the curfew. We’ll discuss this situation further on Monday. Now get yourselves upstairs and to bed. And oh, E. Jay,” ‘Yeah, Coach?’ “Nice pair of shoes! Oh ... and be sure to bring them Monday, and I promise you we’ll get them broken in!”
Wellsir, we paid for our sins that next week by running Coach Mac’s famous “figure eight,” a real gut-wrenching physical exercise in endurance.
There were a total of six road trips that season, and they all have their fond memories, but especially those that occurred in Austin, Texas. Yep, we qualified for our third state championship tournament. Our outstanding record as a basketball team was a direct result of the coaching abilities of Clifton McNeely and his knack to instill in us the desire to win.
He became a dynasty in Texas basketball. His record in 13 years was 331 wins and 37 losses, with seven trips to Austin and four State Championships.
On December 27,2003, Coach Mac passed away at the age of 83. As l have told him many times ... . .. Thanks Coach.
