1977 -- Life In The Fast Lane

January 25, 1977 -- Who Saw This Coming?

Just five years earlier, I would go to sleep every night dreaming of the day when it would my time to play high school basketball for Springboro. I was a sixth grader at the time, playing at the park whenever I could and playing "official" games on Saturday mornings. I was at every high school game. I knew the names of the players, all of their scoring averages and rebounds per game, and who was next on the schedule. I lived and breathed Springboro basketball.

And yet now I was a Franklin Wildcat, playing host to the visiting Springboro Panthers. And I can't say I was all that affected by the experience.

I knew all the guys I was playing against very well. I wished them them well...on any other night. But on this night I wanted them to lose. And they did, in both the varsity and junior varsity games. Because of the leaky roof at the high school, we played at the Franklin Junior High, which wasn't nearly enough to hold everyone who wanted to watch.

There was no other way to say it. I was a Wildcat, through and through. My Panther days were over.

February 14, 1977 -- "Let's Do Something!"

We were off school for two entire weeks because of the snow. When we returned, the country was in the midst of an energy crisis, so they adjusted our school day to the times when the sun was brightest -- 12 noon to 5 p.m. It was the weirdest thing.

That left us guys with plenty of time to just hang around, watch TV, play cards, cruise the town, and run to King Kwik for a bunch of junk food. Steve Dalton was always on the move. "Let's do something," he would say. "Even if it's wrong." When we played spades, we had the most fun if Bake and Wheels were on opposite teams, because when it came to bidding, they would both try to outbid one another, regardless of what kind of hand they were carrying. On Monday mornings, Griff and Steve would hold court at the top of the stairs, telling stories about what had happened on the weekends -- and they were funnier and more interesting than what actually had happened, because I had been with them. 

But these were great times.

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August 5, 1977 -- Golf's Ups And Downs

It was the summer of "Smokey and the Bandit," "Life In The Fast Lane," painting the outside of the Cavalier Inn Motel in Franklin, and driving around town every night just to see what was going on. It was the summer before our senior year of high school, and life was good.

I have always been the guy who shoots somewhere between 77 and 82. No matter how well I play, I cannot seem to go low. So my dream round would be a round where I shoot 72 or 73.

There was a junior golf tournament in Oxford in June where I shot 77. I was very happy with that. At the Middletown Junior at Weatherwax, I had a round of 77, but there was also a round of 84 thrown in there. Begrudgingly, I was learning to accept I had limitations as a golfer -- I did not drive the ball very long, I was not particularly adept with my irons, and I was a so-so putter. So I guess I managed.

On that first Saturday in August, I played the first round of a two-day tournament at Community Golf Course in Kettering, the inside course. Probably because the yardage was much shorter than the other courses, I played really well -- shooting 72 and I believe I was among the leaders in the golf tournament. I was very, very happy with my play and really looked forward to the next day.

That night a bunch of us guys went to see "Smokey and the Bandit," and it was an instant classic. I went to sleep that night dreaming of one day owning a black Trans Am.

So would I be able to hold it together for a good final round? As I sat in the locker room before the round, a Stephen Bishop song came on the radio, "On and On." I didn't care much for the song, and it stayed in my head all day.

I made one bogey after another and could not seem to get out of my own head. Worse yet, I had Stephen Bishop singing to me all damn day. Bogey, bogey, bogey, on and on.

I hate that song. I immediately turn it off if I ever hear it today. 

September 6, 1977 -- I drove home after our first golf match of the season feeling as proud as I had ever been. We shot 143 against Edgewood to set what was a school record at the time, with our top three players -- Steve Dalton, Matt Haines, and Brian Robinson -- all shooting 36. But none of them was the medalist of the match. I was, with a 35. I had no idea what lie ahead in my future, but as I went to sleep that night I didn't think they could name a bridge after me or give me a key to the city and would feel any better than I did right then. Medalist? Me? Are you kidding me. I followed it up the next night with a 38 in another home match against Monroe, and I followed that up with a 39 at Beckett Ridge as we won our third match in a row against Lakota. I'll never forget Coach Retherford's statement as we loaded up our gear for the ride home. "You guys want to know why you're doing so well? You owe it all to that guy right there." I'd never ever had a coach say something that like before.As for the rest of the year, I didn't come close to what I did that first week. A lot of 40s and 41s, but nothing like what I started with.

But I had my 15 minutes of fame. When the season ended, I had no plan regarding college. Steve was going to Arizona State, but I wasn't sure if I would go to Wright State or maybe Miami-Middletown. In any event, I knew golf would only be a hobby.

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December 31, 1977 -- Never Gonna' Be Like This Again