I'm not sure I ever tried to play basketball until my later elementary school years. On the playground behind Adams School (Enid, OK), there was a sad, net-less hoop where my friends and I would play now and then.
By "play" I mean that we would try to shoot baskets. We weren't very good.
But I did almost kill someone.
After we'd played one day, some of us walked toward town to Weibel's, a little ice cream store with soda fountain that we frequented. As I walked into the store that day I was tossing my basketball up and down. I'd forgotten that above the door was a ceiling fan.
The ball hit a blade. It broke off and whirled across the room like a helicopter blade and smacked into a booth toward the back.
No one was sitting there, or I'd probably still be in jail for manslaughter. Decapitation.
I sprinted for home—never entered Weibel's again. My friends—such friends!—told me the FBI sought me (ha!), but, oddly, there were no repercussions—though I did not get my ball back. Fair trade-off.
The first team I played on was at the Hiram School in Ohio, where we moved in the late summer of 1956, just as I was about to enter seventh grade.
No one had to try out (thank goodness), and I got to play in every game though I had no real idea what I was doing. We played a zone defense, so I would sprint to my spot, raise my hands, try to look intimidating.
Which I didn't.
I just hoped no one would come my way. But, of course, they did.
By the way the best player on our 7th and 8th grade teams was Lester Detweiler, a small but very quick and intelligent player. He was an Amish boy (we had two in our class—the other was Melvin Yoder) and, like Melvin, Lester would leave school at the end of 8th grade and return to the farm.
Lester liked to comb his long hair into a popular style but always had to remember to comb it back down before he got home.
Anyway, I got better at roundball, tried hard. And became a starting guard on the JV team my freshman year.
I remained on the JVs my sophomore year, but at the end of the year, Coach Barnhart put me on the varsity for the end-of-the-year conference tournament. Not only that, he made me a starter. I played the entire game.
We actually won the opening round, and I got praised (as “little Danny Dyer”) in the local paper. A highlight!
Coach Barnhart rewarded me with a varsity letter. I was shocked—and pleased. Some others, I am sure, had no such feelings whatsoever.
I was a starter both my junior and senior years, and during the latter (see pic below) I played well enough to earn All-County status (second team). Lots of praise at the athletic banquet that spring.
Little did I know that my basketball career was virtually over. Only some sadness remained ahead of me.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
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