The year was ‘54; the town was Pampa; the gym was Harvester Field House, home of the Hustling Harvesters…two-time 4-A State Champions…undefeated with 58 straight wins. Our coach, Clifton McNeely, was on his way to becoming a legend in Texas basketball, and every player was glad to be a part of it.
With the second championship chalked up, our team took a week off to relax and have fun…So, what do we do? Bored, we began showing up at the gym to do what we thoroughly enjoy: playing basketball. We had just finished a half-court game of “twenty” when Coach walked into the gym and began calling out five names. He wanted to meet with us in his office.
We looked at each other with apprehensive glances and headed for our doom. You were in a “heap of trouble” if you were called into the coach’s office. (Had he caught us drinking a Coke? Had he caught us staying out too late at night? Or heaven forbid, did he catch anyone smoking a cigarette? (My mind flashed to P.J. and me going ‘Cowboy in’) We each took a seat facing both Coach Mac and our assistant coach, Terry Culley. Coach Mac began, “Guys, I want to thank each of you for all your hard work. As you can see, it has paid off. It seems that all of Texas wants to know our secret formula for winning.” We all laughed…As far as we were concerned, the ‘secret formula’ was hard work and Coach Mac’s brain to outwit the other team.
McNeely continued, “I have been invited to be one of the featured speakers at the upcoming Texas Coaches Convention. I told them I would if I could bring my five starters to demonstrate.” Our apprehensive looks turned to excitement, and in unison, we all said, “Sure, Coach, when and where?”
The convention was in Denton on the North Texas State University campus. Coach told us we would be there for a week, stay in the athletic dorm, eat in the cafeteria, and demonstrate in the college gym. All of this AND with all our expenses paid! What a deal! With a new goal to achieve, we worked with the coaches until the end of school at our presentation.
On June 15 th , E. Jay McIlvain, Ken Hinkle, Ben Cartwright, Buddy Sharp, and I, the Zeker, headed south from the panhandle of Texas. Coach was driving his new yellow-and-brown Pontiac Chieftain (presented to him by the folks of Pampa). Coach Culley was driving his ’53 red Rocket 88 Oldsmobile convertible. On this trip, their wives stayed home. Peggy McNeely had two-year-old twins, Mike and Phil, and Betty Culley had Robert, who was younger than the twins.
By Sunday afternoon, we were on campus, checked in, and walking around, enjoying the beautiful buildings and landscape…er… ahh… girls!! After a big meal in the cafeteria, we went to the student center and tried our hand at ‘flirting’ but had no luck… You see, these girls were all in college, and for some reason, they knew we were still in high school!
Monday morning, we began our demonstrations at the field house in front of 500 coaches. By lunchtime, we were through and free to do ‘whatever’ the rest of the day. Coach Mac loaned us his car, so we cruised around campus and then checked out Denton. That’s when we spotted it…a two-story wooden barrel sitting on the side of the road! I’m serious; it looked exactly like a pickle barrel. The sign on it said “A&W Root Beer.” We pulled in to check it out. Man-oh-man, those frosty mugs of root beer were fantastic. We must have emptied that barrel because you could hear us ‘sloshing’ when we walked.
The following day our adventure after lunch was to go swimming at the campus pool. We jerked our swimsuits on, grabbed a towel, and headed for the pool. Lounging around and checking out the ‘chicks’ was our activity for the afternoon. Ken blurts out, “Hey, you’re not going to believe this, but I’m looking at our chemistry teacher, Mrs. Ledbetter!” WHAT? Sure ‘nuff, it was…in a yellow bikini and sporting a great tan. So, we strolled over to say hi. Boy, was she surprised to see us! She was there working on her Ph.D. I am sure we all had a different view of chemistry after that day.
On Wednesday afternoon, we were cruising around downtown Denton when we spotted this shop that looked interesting. It had all those neat Halloween costumes and such. The only purchase made was P.J. buying this rubber black hairy tarantula that looked very realistic. He said it should be a lot of fun scaring the girls back home. We all laughed and made a note of that.
By Friday, we were very frustrated with not finding any girls to date. Coach Mac, sensing our dilemma, told us to meet him at the Hightower Sorority House at 4:00 p.m. He had a friend, a former classmate, who was the ‘house mother.’ In casual conversation, he learned that some high school girls were using the house while attending a musical workshop. So come 3:45, we were all dressed up, every hair in place, and very anxious to go meet some GIRLS!
Oops… We have a problem…P.J. says he’s going steady, and those girls had to be ‘knockout beauties’ before he would go out with them. The conversation continued for several minutes as we slowly made our way toward the sorority house.
Being the diplomat that I am, I decided to use my persuasive powers to convince my best friend that this trip was necessary. “P.J., I speak on behalf of all the guys. If you keep us from going out with these girls, we will never speak to you again…or even worse, we will never pass the ball to you again when we get back home. We will tell Anita (his steady) you went out with a different girl every night!” It was that last one that got his attention. Now, for some icing on the cake… “I tell you what, you get the first choice…Yep, that’s what we will do. Right guys? We will all wait for you to step forward and choose the girl you want to go out with. Now, how’s that true for friendship? Are we sacrificing or not?” Wellsir, after promising P.J. we wouldn’t squeal on him back home, it was on to our conquest…GIRLS!
Upon entering the sorority house, Coach Mac introduced us to the housemother. She said she would go upstairs to announce our arrival. We all just stood there in awe at the luxury of our surroundings. This was s-o-m-e cool place. Our gawking was interrupted by noises coming from the stairs. As we turned, we saw five girls checking us out and whispering to one another. After scanning the group, my eyes locked on a tall brunette, and immediately, I stepped forward and said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’ll take this one!” As I stepped forward to introduce myself, the other three did the same, leaving P.J. standing there, wondering what had just happened. Poor P.J., he was left facing this cute little blonde…. well, let’s be honest, her figure was great, but her face would stop a freight train…. I’m talking…ug-ga-lly; buck teeth, thick glasses, acme face. But hey, P.J.’s a gamer…He knew we had pulled a ‘fast one’ on him, so he stepped forward, introduced himself, and was a gentleman throughout the evening. But as he stepped past me, under his breath, he said, “I owe you one.”
The girls had tickets to a jazz concert, so after treating them to burgers, it was a great evening listening to some fantastic jazz bands, and then we headed for our favorite hangout, A&W Root Beer. Ken, P.J., and I were in the convertible with the top down while Ben, Buddy, and the girls were in the Pontiac.
Everyone was enjoying their frosty mugs of that special drink, with four of us, P.J. and date, Roberta, and myself, sitting on the ‘boot’ (back cover of the retracted top) of the convertible. That’s when it happened…Yep, P.J. got even…Here’s how it unfolded:
As we are sitting there enjoying our drinks, P.J. reaches behind the girls and taps me on the shoulder. As I look behind the girls, P.J. hands me his new pet, the hairy black tarantula that he had nicknamed “Sparky the Spider.” I palmed it in my right hand and waited for the proper moment to flip it onto Roberta’s lap. I say “flip” because I wanted it to land hard enough for her to feel something had landed.
Now, I must stop here and tell you that I have prided myself on being able to “read” a person by their demeanor and body language, i.e., their personality, so to speak. Well, I sure failed in ‘reading’ Roberta. This tall, prim, and proper, sophisticated female suddenly transformed into a blubbering, totally out of control, raving maniac!
First, there was this high-pitched, ear-piercing scream, and then the root beer hit me in the face. Then she got out of her seat and started running in place on the back seat. She kept brushing her dress like “Sparky” was still there. During all of this, there are these unimaginable sounds… like the mating call of an orangutan, with grunts, squeals, and shivers.
It was really quite spectacular. Everyone was laughing hysterically except for Roberta and me. She finally calmed down after we proved to her that “Sparky” wasn’t real. She acted like a good sport, but the evening ended with a handshake and a quick exit!
All the other guys got a goodnight kiss. Oh well, I guess I deserved it, but that dumb spider was all P.J.’s fault…His only comment was, “Now, we’re even.”
The next day was our final demonstration, and after lunch, we headed for home with lots of fond memories…especially those frosty mugs of A&W Root Beer, ‘Screaming Roberta,’ Mrs. Ledbetter in a bikini, and ‘Sparky the Spider!’
Ahhh yes, those were the days.
