CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SCHOOL ATHLETICS

Now, I'll tell you about out athletic program. We played a lot of baseball. The little boys played on a diamond squeezed between the west side of the school building and the boys' ark.

A well hit ball to center field was down hill all the way, and frequently would roll under the ark. This would be a home run for even the slowest runner. We had difficulty getting and keeping center fielders.

The big boys played well away on the northwest corner of the campus, near Mr. Granger Lawson's place. It was a red letter day when you graduated to the big diamond. We packed every available minute into the game, and ate our lunches between times at bat, if Mr. Granger's big white geese hadn't beat us to our sandwiches.

Professor Woods loved to umpire. I can see him so plainly standing behind the pitcher, peering intently toward home plate, and waving balls and strikes as though the fate of the nation depended on his call.

We played no football until 1921. Lin Bomar was beginning to make all-American waves as a sophomore at Vanderbilt about then, which may have stimulated our interest. Ray Morrison's success several years earlier had gone unnoticed. By the way, Coach turned ninety in February, looks great, and has outlived many of his players at S. M. U.
We had what could be called a meager program at Smithville. We had no coach, no goal posts, no dressing rooms, no uniforms and one ball. The games were strictly intra-squad, and were played without boundary lines or officials.

We played on the outfield of the baseball diamond. The big boys played in the backfield, and the little fellows played on the line. Robert Dearman is the only back on our side that I can remember.

I played guard, and my opposite number was Scootie Allen. We weighed about 110 pounds soaking wet, and we blasted into each other on every play, fighting and scratching until the play was over. If we had had an official, it would have been fifteen yards for holding on each offensive play. About all Scootie and I got out of it were lacerated faces and torn shirts.

We played at lunch time, and when the bell rang, we went right back to class in our playing clothes. Actually, overalls make a pretty good uniform.

On Saturdays we practiced across the street from Jim Fitts' house. This was a grassy plot about twelve feet wide, and bounded by the street and a hog-wire fence. Fitts was

44


pretty hard to catch in an open field, but we could contain him rather well down there. The street was out of bounds, and the wire fence helped us hem him on the other side. In fact, we just blocked him into it, and let the clothes rip and buttons fall where they would.

While I am talking football, let me tell you of my first experience with the game in Dallas. Vandy and University of Texas had a series going and Coach Dan McGugin brought his team to Dallas in 1923. Bomar was Vandy's huge end, a returning all-American from the previous year. Because of him and other fine players, Vandy was a big favorite to win. The site of the game was the huge wooden bowl on the Fair Grounds, seating capacity 12,000!

Pop had given you and me $5.00 each for our move to Dallas. Mine had been spent, but Mom still had yours. I just had to see the game, and after two hours of wrangling, I got your $5-bill, and headed for the stadium.

Tickets were $2.50, but when I got there they were all gone. Finally, some kind-hearted gentlemen, and I wondered why he kept looking over his shoulder, offered me one for my Lincoln bill, after determining that was all I had. My lack of sales resistance here first reared its ugly head, and I went into the stadium to see my beloved Vandy beat the hell out of those up-start Longhorns. I still feel that way, as you know.

But it had a different ending. An unbranded steer by the name of Oscar Eckhardt stampeded through and around Mr. Bomar et al, and almost gored them right out of the stadium. Final score: Texas 16; Vanderbilt - 0.

On the way home, my sorrow was alleviated somewhat by thoughts of next year's game, particularly the financial opportunity it would afford me. All I had to do was save my money and buy as many of those $2.50 tickets as I could. Then, I could re-sell them to the suckers for $5.00 -- maybe $6.00, and I would be well on my way to fiscal success.

Oh! Well! It was a darn good idea.

So much for football. Next, I'll tell you about our basketball program.

We played on an outdoor court just south of the school building. Practice time was the lunch hour. No wonder we all kept so trim!

Our dressing room was in a frame cottage some 200 yards from the main building. Miss Omah taught music in one room and I think they had a course in home economics in another.

Our room was on the second floor. We had no heat and no water. After a noon scrimmage, we just changed back into out school clothes and went back to class. Sounds pretty tough, eh? Believe me, it was.

45


The first team consisted of Capt. Jim Fitts and Harris Cantrell at forwards; Walton Lawson at center; and Walker (Chuck) Paris and Woodfin Vaughn at guards; Huston Webb was top substitute -- our sixth man we would call him today.

The second team was Buh Hooper, Lit Cantrell, Harold (Porky) Craddodck, Roy Conger, and I. In practice games, I usually tried to guard Jim Morgan, and hung around his neck so closely I expected him to bop me every day.

Our first game was with Dowelltown and we won. The second was against McMinnville, and they beat us. Then we went to Temperance Hall and won. I somehow have a fairly clear picture of their school building and the basketball court along side it, all on top of a high hill.

These Games got the season off to a good start. We practiced hard and played the "town boys" as often as we could. We rarely had much trouble with those fatties.

We were working toward the state tournament in Murfreesboro, and to help get in shape we scheduled a series with Shop Springs. We played on their court after a hard rain and the mud was pretty deep. The ball stuck and the mud flew, and we slipped and slid to a 12 to 8 victory. A game and a score like that are hard to forget.

We concluded our series in the Cumberland gym at Lebanon. In the very dark corners of my memory, I can see a cavernous room with dim lights and a hard wood floor. This was the first time we had played indoors, and we were embarrassed by the tricks our feet played on us. Several of the girls were there cheering us on, but even that was not enough. Shop Springs won by a small margin.

This set the stage for our trip to Murfreesboro. Middle Tennessee State normally was host for teams from all parts of the state. We were quartered in something like Gramey or Grady Cottage, and were comfortable, though crowded. Porky Craddock tried to set the place on fire by hanging his clothes on the light fixtures.

We ate in the college dinning room. The food was good, as was the service in a hectic sort of way. Professor Jernigan was run over by a pretty young waitress, but didn't seem to mind. She was hastening to the kitchen to get more food for Professor Woods, Who couldn't seem to get filled up. Another highlight was the time Chuck Paris got the syrup and vinegar pitchers mixed up. Sour pancakes? Whew! And he ate them, out of embarrassment!

As for basketball, there is not much to be said. We met Normandy High in the first round, and again, those slick boards were our undoing. The large crowd didn't help us, and we missed Huston Webb, who had recently departed for some Yankee city. Then, too, you might say that Normandy just had a better team -- they almost doubled the score on us. Neither team made many points.

46


We stayed around, and saw some pretty good basketball games. As I recall, the team from Decherd, a little town near Chattanooga, won the tournament. I remember them as a slick, fast, good ball-handling team which played a whole lot like the boys play today. They had a smallish forward with slick black hair who could run, dribble and pop that basket.

Porky and I palled around quite a bit, and we sneaked off during the tournament for some downtown entertainment. This may have included a movie or two, but was mostly pool hall activity.

On one of these downtown trips, I found myself needing the bathroom. A nearby filling station provided satisfactory but strange facilities. I was not inherently stupid, just ignorant about so many things.

My native intelligence told me the tank on the wall over my head had something to do with it, and that the chain attached thereto must play an important part.

After a couple of minutes of considerable trepidation, I reached up and yanked hard on the chain, and all hell broke loose! The roar of rushing water lasted a long time, it seemed; then, finally, all was still.

Hoping against hope that I hadn't ruined that city contraption, I eased out the door, saw all was clear, and vacated the neighborhood as soon as I could get Porky in tow. I didn't go back to check on possible damage.

Good old Porky! All legs and arms, a wide, infectious grin and a generous crop of adolescent pimples. How I would love to see him!

That same spring we had our first track meet. The field was the town end of College Street, beginning at the Staley residence corner, and extending south to the Cumberland Presbyterian Church. Traffic was re-routed for the duration.

The 100-yard dash was the principal event. Some one stepped off the appropriate distance, and strung the tape in front of Alvin Conger's gate.

Professor Woods was the major domo and stood at the starting line to give the "Go" signal.

They ran three heats, as I recall. Jim Fitts won his heat, as expected, and I believe Harris Cantrell won the second. The third was won by a new boy from West End; we hardly knew he was in school.

The three lined up for the finals. Professor Woods shouted "Go"! and off they went. Jim Morgan came off the starting line like a shot. His short muscular legs created a blur of

447


movement as he pulled away from the other two. Halfway through, he was a good four strides in the lead, and he broke the tape perhaps ten yards ahead. Harris and the other boy finished in a tie.

There also was some broad jump competition where soft sand had accumulated between the street and the gully. It was not too conclusive.

We didn't try the 440. That would have carried us to Mr. Pleas Crowley's place.

I never saw Jim Morgan run under proper conditions, but I have an idea he could have done a 9.8 maybe better with spikes on a good track. Perhaps he had that opportunity at Cumberland.

48


Continue to Chapter 15

Return to the Introduction Page

Return to the Dekalb County Page