Abraham Aamidor (10)
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5. Special Service

Abraham Aamidor Indiana University Press ePub

Word of Alabama’s clash with the Texas A&M Aggies in the upcoming Cotton Bowl dominated the front sports page of the Nevada State Journal on Dec. 2, 1941. But it was an item running down the left side that garnered more attention from a core group of basketball enthusiasts in Reno that day. The brief story hailed a clinic at the University of Nevada gymnasium the night before conducted by Chuck Taylor, America’s “ambassador of basketball” and veteran of the best early professional cage teams. A photo showed Chuck in tight-fitting shorts and leather knee pads, plus his own brand of black Converse Chuck Taylor All Star shoes. Forty years old at the time, the 6-foot-1 ex-forward had a deeply receding hairline and was starting to carry a paunch, but he could still rouse interest in the 400 fans who showed up at the Nevada gymnasium, and he could still do free throws from behind his back and dozens of trick passes no youthful defenders could ever seem to stop.1

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6. Air-Tecs

Abraham Aamidor Indiana University Press ePub

Chuck Taylor was sitting on a narrow bench in the cavernous, tile-lined fieldhouse at Wright Field, Ohio in early December 1944, watching his “boys” go through an early evening workout and jawing with a local newspaper reporter. John Mahnken, who not long before was the 6-foot-8 starting center on the Georgetown University Hoyas, “dripped sweat” as Taylor continued sitting on the bench in his birch-colored sweat pants and shirt and egged on Mahnken and the other young basketball stars.

“Lt. Charles (Chuck) Taylor cast a quick glance at Mahnken,” the reporter wrote, “and the rest of the basketball players who were rounding out the first scheduled practice of the Air-Tecs, the quintet which will represent the Air Technical Service Command this year against professional, collegiate, and service teams. ‘They’re getting tired,’ he grinned. A minute later he called his team together. ‘That’s enough for today. You can shoot baskets for a while if you want, but we’ll meet here tomorrow same time. Okay? See you tomorrow night.’

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8. “Me”

Abraham Aamidor Indiana University Press ePub

John Wooden sat in a cramped den in his suburban Los Angeles condominium where he has lived thirty years, in a room crowded by an old sofa and recliner, at a desk buried beneath mounds of correspondence, and just under a wall plastered with photos of all his UCLA championship basketball teams. It’s not that Coach Wooden dwells on the accolades and all the old titles. It’s just that this is how his late, beloved wife Nell, a fellow Hoosier from southern Indiana he met at Martinsville High School, decorated the room, and that is how the room will remain until the end. Unseen in this living history museum, though, behind several autographed leather basketballs on one shelf and yet more trophies and other mementos on another, are the indelible tracks of all the other early Hoosier basketball legends that Wooden says enriched his life, and America’s, because of their love for the game of basketball, such as Everett Case, Ward “Piggy” Lambert, Tony Hinkle, Charles “Stretch” Murphy, and many others. One of those men was Chuck Taylor, a man Wooden first saw when Chuck put on a little clinic for the Artesians—that was Martinsville High School’s nickname, after a flowing well in the town—and the two men became fast friends years later, after Wooden moved to Los Angeles in 1948 and Chuck followed suit in 1950. The two lived mere blocks away from each other for seven years. “I had a lot of fun with Chuck,” Wooden reminisced. “I think maybe we enjoyed being hicks from Indiana, small towns in Indiana. We were Hoosiers. We had a lot in common and I think we were more comfortable than we would be with a lot of others, whether it was other basketball coaches or people in other areas.”

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4. The Invisible Pass

Abraham Aamidor Indiana University Press ePub

The Great Depression spelled doom for some, opportunity for others. For Chuck Taylor, it was the time of his life. Marquis Converse had lost his company in 1928 after it went into receivership. The company’s failure was linked to an ill-fated effort to market an automobile tire, the “Converse Cord,” which had high production costs, a high failure rate, and many returns from local dealers.

Mitchell B. Kaufman, president and owner of the Hodgman Rubber Co. in Framingham, Massachusetts, bought the firm in 1929, but he sold it to the Stone family—Joseph, Harry K., and Dewey D. Stone—in 1933. The Stone family ran the business for the next thirty-nine years, but in spirit, and in the public’s mind, it was to be Chuck Taylor’s company from then on.

Chuck’s secret was in sales and promotion. Years of touring with the Converse All-Stars basketball squad, making “special appearances” on local hoops teams and glad-handing customers in small-town sporting goods stores, plus his growing number of basketball clinics, were making Chuck a celebrity, albeit a faux celebrity. Converse revamped everything beginning in 1932 to revolve around their new star. The annual Converse Basketball Yearbook, begun in 1922 and enlarged and expanded in 1929, soon began promoting Chuck’s clinics, complete with endorsements from top coaches of the day. Beginning in 1932, Chuck’s name was added to the ankle patch of the All Star shoe for the first time. His well-regarded College All-American picks began that year as well, next to a smiling mug shot that was to become a signature piece over the years. As if to an increasing drumbeat, Chuck was exclusively touted as a veteran of the great pre–modern era basketball teams, as well as an authority who personally knew the top coaches and best players across the country.

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3. Salesman

Abraham Aamidor Indiana University Press ePub

Akron may have been a watershed in Chuck Taylor’s playing days. Firestone and Goodyear basketball continued to prosper, but Chuck was not part of it. After leaving the Non-Skids, he moved to Detroit and joined teams supported by first the Dodge Brothers, the famous automobile manufacturers, then by the T. B. Rayl Company, a large sporting goods retailer in the city. What Chuck had learned in Akron, besides some pointers from Sheeks and skills gained in competitive play, was the art of self-promotion. The Akron Beacon Journal covered Firestone and Goodyear basketball well, and the local factory boys were treated like real stars. Chuck took a few newspaper clippings and that rooftop photo of him in a Firestone uniform and made himself out to be a celebrity when he arrived in Detroit. The game plan? Reinvent himself.

First, he wangled a small story in one of the Detroit papers in late 1921 after he joined the Dodge Brothers factory team. Taylor “is generally regarded here as the smartest handler of the ball seen in a local uniform in some years,” the short item proclaimed, accompanied by that rooftop photo of Chuck in the Firestones’ jersey.1 The move to the Rayls was even more provident. The Rayls often traveled to other midwestern cities, including in Indiana and Wisconsin, and claimed a “Midwest championship” in 1919. They also made a couple of appearances in Fort Wayne, where Chuck might first have heard of them.2 Chuck may have worked on the assembly line for Dodge during the day, and he most likely sold athletic goods for Rayl. As both company teams were sponsored, Chuck would have worked and/or played ball on salary—a security blanket that was to become increasingly important to him later in life.

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Arturo J Aldama (25)
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10 Decolonial Border Queers: Case Studies of Chicana/o Lesbians, Gay Men, and Transgender Folks in El Paso / Juárez

ARTURO J ALDAMA Indiana University Press ePub

EMMA PÉREZ

. . . but I don’t consider myself gay, not because I think, that “ugh!” you know, it’s because I see me and I see a gay male right here, and then I see [a] heterosexual male on the other side, you know what I mean, and I’m like, in the middle . . .

ORAL INTERVIEW WITH TRANSGENDER COCA SAPIEN (2001)

How do queers in the US-México cities of El Paso and Juárez “recognize themselves as subjects of a sexuality,” and what “fields of knowledge” and types of normativity have led Chicana/o lesbians, gay men, and transgender folks to experience a particular subjectivity?1 I want to consider this specific, historical, political border to argue that for these border queers of color, the particular fields of knowledge that make up their sexuality constitute an epistemology of coloniality. More importantly, queers in El Paso and Juárez must engage and perform decolonial practices to survive the colonial landscape.

When I began my study of queer Chicanas/os and Mexicanas/os in a region that was my home for fourteen years, I realized that questions outnumbered answers and that the twenty-four transcripts of oral interviews in my possession would only provide cursory insights into the lives of a few lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, and transgender folks in these geographic borderlands.2 My friend and former colleague at the University of Texas in El Paso, Gregory Ramos, conducted the oral interviews from 2000 to 2002 and subsequently wrote a poignant performance piece, “Border Voices,” inspired by the LGBTQ folks he interviewed. Of the twenty-five interviewees, seven were women, seventeen were men, and one was a transgender woman. Six of the seven women identified as Chicana, fronteriza, or Hispanic. One was white. Of the men, twelve identified as Chicano, Hispanic, or Mexicano; one was African American, one was Latino with parents from El Salvador, and three were white men.3 Overall, the majority of interviewees identified as Chicana/o, Mexican, or Hispanic. Those interviewed probably represent a cross-section of the predominantly Chicana/o and Mexican communities of El Paso, where seventy-eight percent of the population is of Mexican origin. Although some of the Chicano/a interviewees may have been born in Juárez or have family in Juárez, only one of the twenty-five said he was a Mexicano from Juárez. Although he lived in El Paso, his dual citizenship allowed his allegiance to México.4

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1 Body as Codex-ized Word / Cuerpo Como Palabra (en-)Códice-ado: Chicana/Indígena and Mexican Transnational Performative Indigeneities Micaela Díaz-Sánchez

ARTURO J ALDAMA Indiana University Press ePub

MICAELA DÍAZ-SÁNCHEZ

In the performance work of Mexican actress, writer, and director Jesusa Rodríguez and Chicana/Tepehuana1 painter / installation artist / performance artist Celia Herrera-Rodríguez, the body functions as the critical site for the (de)construction of national and Indigenous identities. The corporeal operates as the primary signifier in the reclamation of denied histories. Through the self-consciously performative style of cabaret and espectáculo (spectacle), Jesusa Rodríguez monumentalizes México’s Indigenous histories as she employs discourse central to Mexican national identity and cultural citizenship. Celia Herrera-Rodríguez enacts Indigeneity as intimate ritual and positions her work as personal historical recovery and pedagogy aimed at creating dialogue among Indigenous communities on a global level. Their aesthetic methodologies are mediated by multifarious contradictions, colonial epistemologies, and discursive strategies for survival. In the critical recognition and negotiation of these refractory mediations, performance functions as an embodied attempt at reclamation of Indigenous narratives, in and out of the “nation.”

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4 The Art of Place: The Work of Diane Gamboa

ARTURO J ALDAMA Indiana University Press ePub

KAREN MARY DAVALOS

In 2008, Southern California witnessed its first major “post-ethnic” art exhibition in Phantom Sightings: Art After the Chicano Movement.1 Building on the performances and visual arts of Asco, the Los Angeles–based collective originally composed of Harry Gamboa, Jr., Gronk, Willie Herrón, and Patssi Valdez, the exhibition at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) intended to challenge conventional parameters of Chicana/o art and offer one strategy for interpreting conceptual art produced by artists who came of age after the Chicano Movement. Co-curators Rita Gonzalez, Howard Fox, and Chon Noriega posit that the temporal curatorial model of art produced after something allowed them “the freedom to follow an idea, rather than represent a constituency.”2 Interestingly, the show was simultaneously a complete success and a dramatic failure. Ticket sales evidence that it was overwhelmingly popular, breaking LACMA attendance records. Yet local artists and critics found the exhibition lacking. They hosted several public discussions, generated hundreds of blog posts, and published articles in regional and national media to address the show’s historical, aesthetic, and positional errors. Some critics responded by producing their own exhibitions performed as errata that offered a corrective vision of Chicana/o art in Los Angeles.3

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17 Is Ugly Betty a Real Woman? Representations of Chicana Femininity Inscribed as a Site of (Transformative) Difference Jennifer Esposito

ARTURO J ALDAMA Indiana University Press ePub

JENNIFER ESPOSITO

Popular culture texts inform us about our social world. They teach us about ourselves and also about “Others.” We learn who is valued in the larger society as well as who is marginalized. Although popular culture reflects our society, as an institution it also helps construct ideologies that we live out and perform in our daily lives. People may turn to texts for information on what it means to be a particular race/ethnicity, gender, social class, and/or sexual orientation. Visual images thus become textual lessons that become inscribed on lived bodies and incorporated into ideological structures of society. For bodies already marginalized in the larger society, the power of representations becomes much more pronounced. In fact, a “burden of representation” exists whenever a marginalized group is represented in popular culture.1 This is especially true for the Latina body, as Mary Beltrán argues: “media representations of the Latina body thus form a symbolic battleground upon which the ambivalent place of Latinos and Latinas in US society is acted out.”2

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24 Rumba’s Democratic Circle in the Age of Legal Simulacra

ARTURO J ALDAMA Indiana University Press ePub

BERTA JOTTAR-PALENZUELA

The procession to the rumba in Central Park starts at West Seventy-second Street, and the first spiritual stop is John Lennon’s memorial, “Imagine.” Each Sunday, fans adorn the shrine with flowers, candles, and idiosyncratic offerings as devotees play acoustic guitars, flutes, and, occasionally, drums. The rumba procession continues past Asian masseuses promising full relaxation in twenty minutes and Daniel Webster’s bronze statue reminding us: “Liberty and union, now and forever, one and inseparable.” At this point, you can hear the rumba drums; on your right, a jazz band plays along West Drive. As you walk toward Cherry Hill fountain, the rumba pulse fuses with the sounds of the pan-African djembe circle at Bethesda Terrace. Continue toward the lake, where the Colombian opera singer navigates his gondola through the Victorian landscape and the tourist economy surrounding it. Down the hill, near the bow bridge, is where you’ll find the rumba circle.

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Edited By Kenneth L Untiedt (41)
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Part V

Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781574413205

Our Family Fishing Trips

Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt University of North Texas Press PDF

7978-ch03.pdf

10/6/11

8:16 AM

Page 183

OUR FAMILY FISHING TRIPS by L. R. McCormack

One of my fondest memories of my Coney family is the fishing trips. Fishing was one of the activities the Coney boys loved. The

“boys” were the four sons of Leon Josephus Coney and Ida

Augusta Hawkins Coney. Their farm was located about five miles southeast of Ladonia, Texas. Not only was fishing their favorite sport, but it also provided some good meals. Their fishing was not done with a rod and reel. They used seines, and “grabbled” for the fish. My dad, Lowell (Sheep), and his brother Roy Leon (Buster) were the only two of the boys who could swim. Being the two youngest boys, they had developed a close bond through the years.

Dad could hold his breath under water so very long that they sometimes wondered if he had drowned. Buster could dive deeper than Dad. between the two of them, they checked out each fishing hole for suitable fish—as well as for water moccasins that were living in those holes—and selected the holes they would fish. They had several places that they visited regularly.

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The Jetty

Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt University of North Texas Press PDF

7978-ch03.pdf

10/6/11

8:16 AM

Page 203

THE JETTY by Randy Cameron

Port Aransas, that island town off the Texas mainland, is, of course, surrounded by water. But even that is not enough for some people.

They want to go farther than the edge. They want to go to the very end. And to those who do, the jetty is their route, a mile-long, twelve-foot wide stretch of old cement first constructed in 1940, and more recently widened, patched, and finally strengthened with

Volkswagen-sized blocks of Texas granite. The whole scene is a marvelous mixture of jumbled and jagged rocks, moss, kelp, wheeling gulls, and sea spray.

And fishermen. What an eclectic lot the jetty lures out upon it—especially, I think, on a mild December day of streaky, high cirrus clouds and little wind such as this. We see people of all ages and genders, some serious anglers, some semi-so, and some not at all.

Those are the ones content to watch and listen to the sea, catch some sun, check their bird books and just be a part of the relaxed, communal scene. Still others, like myself, and my wife and sevenyear-old son, try a little bit of it all.

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Part III

Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781574413205

Texas Menu 1835: Venison and Honey, Prairie Chicken, or Baked Fish

Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt University of North Texas Press PDF

7978-ch05.pdf

10/6/11

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Page 319

TEXAS MENU 1835: VENISON AND HONEY,

PRAIRIE CHICKEN, OR BAKED FISH by Jerry Bryan Lincecum

The autobiography of Gideon Lincecum, my great-great-great grandfather, contains some remarkable accounts of hunting and fishing in unspoiled areas of Texas in 1835. Lincecum’s six-month exploration of Texas came about after a good many citizens of

Columbus, Mississippi, where he resided and practiced medicine, became interested in migrating to Texas. An emigrating company was organized late in 1834, and Lincecum was appointed physician to an exploring committee charged with traveling to Texas and bringing back a report. He and five other men left Columbus on

January 9, 1835, and crossed the Sabine River into Texas on February 3.1 The following excerpts from Lincecum’s autobiography are among many that describe encounters with wildlife in Texas. In

1848, Lincecum moved his family to Long Point, Washington

County. His memoirs were written when he was an old man, and most of his accounts of hunting and fishing were first published in

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Geraldine Ellis Watson (16)
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Area Map of Neches River

Geraldine Ellis Watson University of North Texas Press PDF
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Part Two Day 2

Geraldine Ellis Watson University of North Texas Press PDF

Part Two, Day 1

Part Two

Day 2

SECOND DAY

River Mile 89.5

That second morning simply could not have been surpassed for beauty. Where everything turns a rich, rosy gold at evening, the mornings are silver and pearl. Mist covers the river and the sun, rising into an opalescent sky, strikes the dew drops that cover every leaf, twig, and branch, and turns them to flashing diamonds. It is interesting to know that dew neither “falls” nor “rises.”

During the day, the sun heats the earth. At night, the air cools and the earth radiates heat back into the atmosphere, condensing water in the air one molecule at a time on objects that have a lower temperature than the air. There is no dew underneath objects, as even a leaf can prevent the radiant heat from rising.

There were no fresh animal tracks on the sandbar that morning. After the crows advertised my presence the evening before, all the forest knew that

MAN was on the sandbar and avoided it. This is a good reason for barring camping on sandbars except in designated areas.

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Part Two Day 5

Geraldine Ellis Watson University of North Texas Press PDF

Reflections on the Neches

Part Two

Day 5

GORE LANDING

River Mile 61

9:48 A.M.

Just above Pearl River Bend was Gore Landing. I got out of the boat here and looked around, but found no evidence that it had once been an active and busy place. It was probably a summer port as the access road is across the multiple drainage pattern from Deserters Baygall and must have been a booger to traverse during wet weather.

Gore Landing Road follows hummocks through the bottom and joins the

Old Maids Road near Gore Cemetery at the edge of the terrace. It then proceeds west along the ridge dividing Deserters Baygall from Round Pond Baygall to the Gore house on the Old Wagon Road where the terrace rises to the upland. The Old Maids Road was named for two sisters, Tina and Lisha Gore.

Never having married, they lived in the family home after their parents died.

I used to stop by and visit them—oh, it must have been in the late 1960s. They lived exactly as their forebears did and in the same house.

The Gore house was set back behind two big live oak trees and a handsplit rail fence, and several big mulberry trees grew along the fence row.

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Detail maps

Geraldine Ellis Watson University of North Texas Press PDF
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Part One Day 3

Geraldine Ellis Watson University of North Texas Press PDF

Part One, Day 2

Part One

Day 3

BOB PARVIN

River Mile 97.8

Just after launching off on my third morning, I discovered that I had stopped too soon the previous evening, for just around the bend was a perfect camping site. There were two open-water lakes in a broad, short-grass pasture with a ridge between the lakes and the river. The ridge was populated with young pine trees which provided a cozy shelter. Apparently, grazing cattle kept the area as clean of weeds and brush as a mowed lawn. Several shore birds were wading the shallow edges of the lakes. They were common egrets, little green herons, and what appeared to be willets. I took my binoculars and walked over the berm, around the lakes and behind a grove of vegetation in the center of the large opening. Behind the vegetation was a beautiful oxbow lake, a remnant of what had once been a large bend in the river. Judging from the tracks, many animals come from out of the woods to graze on the grass, so it is a good site for animal watching as well as birdwatching.

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Mike Roos (28)
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13 Highway 61 Revisited

Mike Roos Quarry Books ePub

Game day arrived, and an unusually agitated Roy Allen stood in the doorway to Pete Gill’s office. “Pete, now you’ve really lost your mind! Hitchhiking home from Spurgeon? It’s nuts!”

Pete was studiously shuffling through a stack of index cards. He glanced up expressionless, then resumed the shuffling. “Did you see the looks on the boys’ faces, Roy? I think I got ’em stirred up.”

“I’m not worried about that. We will win the game,” Roy said. “As bad as we looked the other night, Spurgeon is likely to be several degrees worse. And if we play better, which is a real possibility, then it’s you and me I’m worried about, Pete.”

Pete did not look up. “Take it easy, Roy.”

“Listen, Pete, Spurgeon is thirty miles away. And there’s no direct route between here and there. You have to take a bunch of different roads. Hitchhiking so late at night is—well, it’s no simple matter.”

“I’m going to start Stan Klem,” Pete said, lifting out one of the cards. “Don’t you think he looked the best of what we got?”

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28 Invasion of the Little Green Men

Mike Roos Quarry Books ePub

On Saturday, March 16, 1963, the sun did not rise on southern Indiana. Instead, the sky grew incrementally less dark, mutating from a tarry black into a deep charcoal, then finally transforming into an unbroken medium gray, revealing low-hanging nimbus clouds that scored the land with a diluvial mid-March rain. At the Esquire Motel, Pete and Roy raised the boys for breakfast at nine AM. Beneath an umbrella outside the Merry-Go-Round, Roy put a quarter in the newsstand for the morning edition of the Courier.

The front page of the sports section featured the five Spuds starters staring at readers from center page, as photographed by Bill Adkins the night before on the motel room bed. Roy’s amusement disappeared when he noticed the subheading of the “Sew It Seams” column, beneath the byline of veteran sports editor Dan Scism. It read, “Invasion by Ireland.”

“What are we?” he muttered. “Little green men from Mars?” After scanning the column, he handed the paper grimly to Pete. “Read what the Grand Poobah has to say about us.”

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5 Turkey Run and the White Horse Tavern

Mike Roos Quarry Books ePub

Pete Gill shoved his way through the front door of his rented bungalow on the edge of the little town of Marshall, Indiana. “Glenda! I’m home!”

“Daddy!” Four-year-old Ellen came running to her father.

“Hey, my little darling! How was your day?” Pete swung his daughter up into his arms and gave her a loving kiss on the cheek.

“I found a shamrock, Daddy!” Ellen revealed a single shaft of clover in her small palm.

“You did! Well, that’s our good luck charm, honey. Hold on to that! We’re gonna need it! Where’s your little brother?”

“Joey’s sleeping.”

“That’s good.”

Pete’s wife, Glenda, appeared at the kitchen door. “So soon?”

Pete pecked Ellen again and set her down to run back to her room. “Don’t lose that shamrock, baby!” Pete kept his eyes away from his wife’s. “I quit, Glenda,” he mumbled.

His wife stared at him, dumbfounded. “Aw, Pete! Are you crazy? Not again!”

“I’m out. Done with it.” Pete dropped his body onto the couch.

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12 Soap and Towel and Wings of Fire

Mike Roos Quarry Books ePub

A week before the team’s season opener against Spurgeon, Pete had Jim Roos announce to students, parents, and public that there would be what he termed a “Soap and Towel” game, an exhibition scrimmage among Ireland players, Tuesday night prior to the Spurgeon game.

“But, Coach, this is nuts,” Dave Small pointed out. “We haven’t even scrimmaged full-court yet.”

“When I want your opinion, Small, I’ll ask for it.”

Dave said no more, but he could not imagine how the drills they had been doing in practice would translate into game conditions. His worst fear was an embarrassment in front of the whole town, but Pete would not be dissuaded. Pete wanted a show, a demonstration before all his detractors of what he was building. He overestimated, however, the readiness of his team.

Such an exhibition was a first for the town of Ireland. It was Pete’s idea that anyone could gain admission with a bar of soap or a towel, which he intended to stockpile for the team’s locker room supplies. Although hardly anyone expected to see high-quality basketball at the practice game, there was a great deal of curiosity about the team as tales of Pete’s bizarre and brutal practices had spread among townsfolk and even beyond. When Jack Brandt, sports director for Jasper radio station WITZ, heard about the game, he made plans to be there. Jasper athletic director Cabby O’Neill, on the other hand, decided it would be best not to attend, lest he be confused for an Ireland supporter, but he asked Jack to provide him with a full report on “this fellow Gill.”

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21 Walk Like a Man

Mike Roos Quarry Books ePub

Pete Gill was more on edge about Winslow than he let on to anyone, except perhaps Roy Allen. He and Roy had scouted the Eskimos in a loss against Huntingburg, 61–54, one of only two victories for the Hunters all year. But Winslow was a young team, with no seniors and a squad made up almost entirely of volatile juniors, featuring good speed and streaky shooting skills. If the shots started to fall, they gained confidence with each basket. In Pete’s nightmares, the Eskimos would get hot, the Spuds would go cold, and his dream season would be shot dead in a humiliating flash the very first game of the tournament.

Adding to his worries, on Thursday the Spuds received unexpected and unwelcome word that Allen Voelkel would be unavailable for the Sectional. For several days he had been complaining of severe back pain and fatigue. Perplexed and frustrated, he and his father went first to a chiropractor, who told them the problem was not Allen’s back. Then a Jasper MD examined him and found albumen in his urine. Not a good sign.

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