Proud To Be Part Of The Phenomenon

It was a great honor to be a Viking manager for all of my high school years. Growing up in Taylor County in the ‘60’s, it seemed that high school basketball was the thing that tied the community together and the players were the local celebrities. So, of course, I wanted to be a player, too. I was on my 8th grade B-team and enjoyed the experience, but I quickly learned that I was not a “natural”. I never tried out for the high school team, because, as a freshman, I was offered a position as manager. I jumped at the chance. I saw it as my opportunity to be a part of the best show in town, my chance to go everywhere the Vikings went and, so, I agreed to keep up with books, charts, basketballs, Gatorade, vitamins and anything else the coaches asked me to do for the teams.
One of my biggest tests came very soon after I was “hired.” At that time, Coach Carter drove a light blue Ford. I believe it was a Falcon. It had a manual transmission with the stick on the steering column. When Coach Carter asked me if I could drive a straight shift, I told him I could. But, I lied. I was afraid that if I told him that I didn’t know how to manage a car with a clutch and three gears he would fire me and find someone who could. I immediately set out to learn how to operate a manual transmission. My friend, Deborah Spillers’ dad had an old truck that had the shifter on the steering column. I remember being shown how to find the gears and told how to operate the clutch, but I don’t remember actually driving the truck on the road. I may have driven up and down the driveway. Anyway, I was ready. I thought. Soon, Coach Carter asked me to drive to town one afternoon during 6th period basketball practice. So, Joyce Kendrick (Kennon) and I got into the car, me behind the steering wheel and the moment of truth had arrived. Our mission was to go to the drug store and get vitamins for the players and failure was not an option. Changing the gears wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was synchronizing the clutch with the gas. This skill comes with experience, of which I had very little. To begin with, the car choked down a lot when starting and stopping. I learned to “pop” the clutch, which worked, but did not provide a very smooth ride. Needless to say, Joyce and I had some memorable trips to town. I got better at it, though. Eventually, Coach Carter traded the blue car in on a green Ford Maverick. It, too, had a manual transmission and I was really ready this time.
With the Maverick, I graduated to driving the Lady Vikings to out-of-town games. One trip in particular stands out in my mind. We were traveling to the tournaments in Manchester. I had a Maverick full of players. It was very foggy and Coach Carter was behind me with another load of Lady Vikings. In Manchester, I stopped at an intersection, looked both ways more than once (remember, it was VERY foggy) and then I cautiously drove on through. Arriving at the gym, some of the players in Coach Carter’s car came running up to me. “Do you know what you did?” Well, no. I didn’t remember doing anything out of the ordinary. However, I had done something awful. While I was stopped at the intersection, Coach Carter had gotten out of his car and walked up to my window to tell me something. About the time he got close enough to tap on the window, I drove off! He was left standing in the road, alone. The players riding with him said that he walked back to the car, got in and said, “That better have been a mistake!” It was, oh, it was! Thankfully, Coach Carter didn’t chew me out. I guess he gave me the benefit of the doubt.
We won the tournament, of course. I don’t mean to sound cocky but we always won. Don’t misunderstand; the Lady Vikings didn’t take their skills for granted. Every game was a contest in its own right. Every game was exciting. Every game my voice was added to the roar of the crowd. I’m proud to say that I was a Viking manger during the Lady Viking’s 132 game winning streak and I was a part of the phenomenon.