I Coulda Been a Contender! Bill Tune bctune@gmail.com With my apologies to the classic movie, On The Waterfront, I could have been an athletic contender! All I lacked was the body, the coordination, the training, and the opportunity! Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I’ve been blessed with abilities that others may envy. My academic successes rate well above average. I’ve enjoyed developing a variety of musical interests over the years, and I often make people laugh – sometimes on purpose. I’ve had my fair share of successes (and frustrations) with technology over the years. It’s been a very good life, but clearly not the life of an athlete. It’s not that our society worships athletes; oh wait, I guess we do to a certain degree. But it’s hard not to imagine what it would be like to perform great physical feats in a competitive arena. When looking back on my athletic experiences, I have to chuckle, so I decided to share. I must confess as a young school boy, I was more inclined to jump rope with the girls rather than play football with the guys, even though I clearly remember the recurring question that pervaded the playground back then: “Are you gonna play for the Cowboys or the Oilers when you grow up?” In late elementary, for reasons I do not know to this day, Mom signed my younger brother and me up for little league baseball. She was not well schooled in athletics, as the following story will show, but she decided that we would play baseball. For some reason, probably financial, when we went to the sports store to buy our first baseball glove, we only bought one. I guess we were going to share it, but this was problematic because I’m right-handed, and Budd is left-handed. However, being the senior brother (by 18 months) it was decided to buy the glove for me, and since, as previously mentioned, I was (and still am) right-handed, we bought a baseball glove for my right hand. That’s how much the collective three of us knew about baseball. I don’t remember who enlightened us on the basic mechanics of baseball, but we soon learned that one throws the ball with his dominant hand, and the glove goes on the OTHER hand. This actually worked out well for us. Budd got to use the glove we bought, and I soon got my own glove. Little league baseball in Lamesa, Texas was lots of fun. Of course there was the inevitable sports injury. At practice one day the coach was hitting fly balls at a gaggle of us young fielding hopefuls. Following the approximate trajectory of the highflying ball, we would run towards it as a group with gloves outstretched in hopes that the ball would magically land in one of them. (At least, that was my philosophy.) One day the ball not-so-magically hit me in the jaw. I didn’t realize this was supposed to be an exercise in self-defense! The result was one heck of a black bruise on my jaw, and I learned to pay a little closer attention to the location of that pesky baseball. As I was saying, little league baseball was lots of fun. I really enjoyed the games, cheering my team on from the bench (my favorite place). The only bad parts were when I had to stand in right field, hoping that no balls came my way, and standing at the plate praying for a walk. Coach seemed to have great admiration for my consistently terrific attitude. Budd was a bit more athletic than me, so he actually enjoyed playing the game. I was content to lead the cheers from the bench. Good times. In 6th grade I started beginner band, and that was a natural fit for me. Unfortunately, the next year we moved to a small school that discontinued its football program many years earlier, and of course without football there was no need for a band program! The school had decided to start football again, but the band program didn’t start up until two years later, after we had moved again. So with all the excitement of the new football program, this eager 7th grader decided to play junior high football - longest week of my life. I also tried out for basketball at one point, but the coaches obviously sensed my amazing potential as a musician. As a freshman in high school I joined the band and grew to love football – as a spectator sport. I had a free ride to all the games, and I really got into the cheering-the-team-on thing. Andrews HS went 20 – 20 in my four years there, but it was a fun ride nonetheless. While personal competition is not my thing, I have always enjoyed rooting for my team. I attended the University of Texas at Austin to study engineering. I was pretty sure they had a football team and a band, so I joined the band. Wow! This naïve west Texas boy found himself thrust into the middle of collegiate football history. The year was 1969 – the 100th year of college football; Darrell Royal, whom my wife met in person; a 15 – 14 win over #2 Arkansas (Shootout of the Century) to win the SWC, followed by a 21 – 17 win over Notre Dame in the Cotton Bowl for an undefeated National Championship! I’ve been a big fan of the Longhorns ever since, even though it’s kind of tough to start following a team with only one direction to go: down. I enjoy tennis – or used to. I could play 100 games, lose 98, and still be happy. Unfortunately, that seemed to take much of the fun out of it for my opponents. What’s the point of winning if it doesn’t make someone sad?? Again, individual competition never was my thing. Now in spite of my lack of athletic abilities, I have had a couple of sport-related highlights in my life. One was in college when my band fraternity played the alumni in the annual flag-football game. On one defensive play I deflected a pass. Wow! What a rush. However, my crowning athletic achievement came in a basketball game. I was a young band director in Thrall, Texas. The twin cities of Thrall and Thorndale decided to have a faculty basketball game. It was all good-natured fun, except that Thrall was playing to have fun while Thorndale was playing to win. I was happy to participate but didn’t expect (or really want) any significant playing time. I felt my presence on the team was more for comic relief than anything else. [Spoiler alert: Don’t start imagining some Disney-style last-minute victory by the underdogs with me shooting the game winning 3-pointer (which did not exist at the time). We lost badly, but we had fun.] Thorndale jumped out to an early lead that they never relinquished, but since we were just having fun, coach put me in briefly during the first half. To my horror, a teammate threw me the ball. I think I actually dribbled a couple of times, and then tossed the ball towards the basket – and it went in!! I was stunned, as no doubt was everyone else. I didn’t in my wildest imagination dream that I would score. As I said earlier, Thorndale was there to win and fought hard, possibly a little harder than they needed to. Late in the first half, T-dale was called for a technical foul. Again, for comic relief I’m sure, the coach selected me to shoot the free throw. I made it!!! This was unbelievable! I SCORED THREE POINTS!!! As the game wound down to its inevitable conclusion, it was once again my turn to take the court. This time I got the ball just on our side of the court, and I saw our girls’ basketball coach standing under the goal. I heaved the ball at him with all my might, and IT WENT IN THE BASKET!!!! OMG! (I know, too soon for that expression.) I SCORED FIVE POINTS!!!!! So the game was a win-win: we had fun, and they won the game. Today, I’m content to watch the athletic prowess of football, baseball, basketball, Olympians, etc. I can admire their achievements, respect the sacrifices they endure to perform, and at the same time, be thankful that I still have two good knees! enough

I Coulda Been a Contender!

With my apologies to the classic movie, On The Waterfront, I could have been an athletic contender! All I lacked was the body, the coordination, the training, and the opportunity! Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I’ve been blessed with abilities that others may envy. My academic successes rate well above average. I’ve enjoyed developing a variety of musical interests over the years, and I often make people laugh – sometimes on purpose. I’ve had my fair share of successes (and frustrations) with technology over the years. It’s been a

very good life, but clearly not the life of an athlete. It’s not that our society worships athletes; oh wait, I guess we do to a certain degree. But it’s hard not to imagine what it would be like to perform great physical feats in a competitive arena. When looking back on my athletic experiences, I have to chuckle, so I decided to share.

I must confess as a young school boy, I was more inclined to jump rope with the girls rather than play football with the guys, even though I clearly remember the recurring question that pervaded the playground back then: “Are you gonna play for the Cowboys or the Oilers when you grow up?”

In late elementary, for reasons I do not know to this day, Mom signed my younger brother and me up for little league baseball. She was not well schooled in athletics, as the following story will show, but she decided that we would play baseball. For some reason, probably financial, when we went to the sports store to buy our first baseball glove, we only bought one. I guess we were going to share it, but this was problematic because I’m right-handed, and Budd is left-handed. However, being the senior brother (by 18 months) it was decided to buy the glove for me, and since, as previously mentioned, I was (and still am) right-handed, we bought a baseball glove for my right hand. That’s how much the collective three of us knew about baseball. I don’t remember who enlightened us on the basic mechanics of baseball, but we soon learned that one throws the ball with his dominant hand, and the glove goes on the OTHER hand. This actually worked out well for us. Budd got to use the glove we bought, and I soon got my own glove.

Little league baseball in Lamesa, Texas was lots of fun. Of course there was the inevitable sports injury. At practice one day the coach was hitting fly balls at a gaggle of us young fielding hopefuls. Following the approximate trajectory of the highflying ball, we would run towards it as a group with gloves outstretched in hopes that the ball would magically land in one of them. (At least, that was my philosophy.) One day the ball not-so-magically hit me in the jaw. I didn’t realize this was supposed to be an exercise in self-defense! The result was one heck of a black bruise on my jaw, and I learned to pay a little closer attention to the location of that pesky baseball.

As I was saying, little league baseball was lots of fun. I really enjoyed the games, cheering my team on from the bench (my favorite place). The only bad parts were when I had to stand in right field, hoping that no balls came my way, and standing at the plate praying for a walk. Coach seemed to have great admiration for my consistently terrific attitude. Budd was a bit more athletic than me, so he actually enjoyed playing the game. I was content to lead the cheers from the bench. Good times.

In 6th grade I started beginner band, and that was a natural fit for me. Unfortunately, the next year we moved to a small school that discontinued its

football program many years earlier, and of course without football there was no need for a band program! The school had decided to start football again, but the band program didn’t start up until two years later, after we had moved again. So with all the excitement of the new football program, this eager 7th grader decided to play junior high football - longest week of my life. I also tried out for basketball at one point, but the coaches obviously sensed my amazing potential as a musician.

As a freshman in high school I joined the band and grew to love football – as a spectator sport. I had a free ride to all the games, and I really got into the cheering-the-team-on thing. Andrews HS went 20 – 20 in my four years there, but it was a fun ride nonetheless. While personal competition is not my thing, I have always enjoyed rooting for my team.

I attended the University of Texas at Austin to study engineering. I was pretty sure they had a football team and a band, so I joined the band. Wow! This naïve west Texas boy found himself thrust into the middle of collegiate football history. The year was 1969 – the 100th year of college football; Darrell Royal, whom my wife met in person; a 15 – 14 win over #2 Arkansas (Shootout of the Century) to win the SWC, followed by a 21 – 17 win over Notre Dame in the Cotton Bowl for an undefeated National Championship! I’ve been a big fan of the Longhorns ever since, even though it’s kind of tough to start following a team with only one direction to go: down.

I enjoy tennis – or used to. I could play 100 games, lose 98, and still be happy. Unfortunately, that seemed to take much of the fun out of it for my opponents. What’s the point of winning if it doesn’t make someone sad?? Again, individual competition never was my thing.

Now in spite of my lack of athletic abilities, I have had a couple of sport-related highlights in my life. One was in college when my band fraternity played the alumni in the annual flag-football game. On one defensive play I deflected a pass. Wow! What a rush.

However, my crowning athletic achievement came in a basketball game. I was a young band director in Thrall, Texas. The twin cities of Thrall and Thorndale decided to have a faculty basketball game. It was all good-natured fun, except that Thrall was playing to have fun while Thorndale was playing to win. I was happy to participate but didn’t expect (or really want) any significant playing time. I felt my presence on the team was more for comic relief than anything else. [Spoiler alert: Don’t start imagining some Disney-style last-minute victory by the underdogs with me shooting the game winning 3-pointer (which did not exist at the time). We lost badly, but we had fun.]

Thorndale jumped out to an early lead that they never relinquished, but since we were just having fun, coach put me in briefly during the first half. To my horror, a teammate threw me the ball. I think I actually dribbled a couple of times, and then tossed the ball towards the basket – and it went in!! I was stunned, as no doubt was everyone else. I didn’t in my wildest imagination dream that I would score.

As I said earlier, Thorndale was there to win and fought hard, possibly a little harder than they needed to. Late in the first half, T-dale was called for a technical foul. Again, for comic relief I’m sure, the coach selected me to shoot the free throw. I made it!!! This was unbelievable! I SCORED THREE POINTS!!!

As the game wound down to its inevitable conclusion, it was once again my turn to take the court. This time I got the ball just on our side of the court, and I saw our girls’ basketball coach standing under the goal. I heaved the ball at him with all my might, and IT WENT IN THE BASKET!!!! OMG! (I know, too soon for that expression.) I SCORED FIVE POINTS!!!!!

So the game was a win-win: we had fun, and they won the game.

Today, I’m content to watch the athletic prowess of football, baseball, basketball, Olympians, etc. I can admire their achievements, respect the sacrifices they endure to perform, and at the same time, be thankful that I still have two good knees!

enough

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