January 3, 1972 -- It's A Small World After All
The park had opened only a few months before, and the cost was way more than we could afford, but Dad knew the minute Disney World opened in Orlando, Fla. that we had to go. And so we did, five screaming kids in the back of a station wagon, driving 16 hours one way.
I was 11, which meant John was 10, Jenny 9, Julie 8, and Joey 7. I was a sixth-grader at Clearcreek Elementary School, and even though this was an exciting trip, I was a little bummed about missing Saturday morning basketball -- where Jeff Howard was our head coach.
We really liked the Haunted House, the Hall of Presidents, and the Jungle Cruise. It was important for Dad that we had the chance to do this because it was not something he ever got during his childhood, and not just because Disney World didn't exist. It's because he didn't get to just be a kid. So he wanted us to have that.
And we got it. It was great.
...
June 13, 1972 -- The Biggest Game Ever Played
They were sponsored by the K&W Drive-In, but everyone knew them as the Yankees. And they were the best team in the league -- with talent all over the field. Well, we were sponsored by the Springboro IGA, and known as the Phillies, and we thought we were pretty good, too. So the showdown on this second Tuesday in June was circled on our schedules -- the last game of the first round and the game that would decide who held first place.
All day long, the players on both sides spent the day goofing off all around Springboro, riding bikes and playing whiffle ball and listening to the day's popular music on a transistor radio. At 2:00, you wouldn't have known who was on which team because we were all best friends with one another. But when game time rolled around at 6:00 we were all in full battle mode -- us versus them. May the better team be the victor.
They killed us. It was never even close. Afterward, our coach Bill McGraw did what all good coaches have to do at times, give us a good talking to on the one hand and then give us reason to be encouraged on the other. There was still another round, which meant another shot at the Yankees. So we were told to keep our heads high.
That night, we got ice cream at the K&W and then slept out in makeshift tents in Lance Penwell's backyard.
We had lost a big game.
But by 10 o'clock, all was forgotten.
Life was good.
...
