James R. Fisher, Jr., Ph.D.
© March 18, 2012
I had the privilege of moving up to the varsity in basketball as a freshman at Clinton High School, Clinton, Iowa, and playing four years at that level. CHS was a good high school basketball team and tradition.
We had a great coach in Ed Rashke and wonderful teammates. Not only that, at St. Patrick's elementary, I had the opportunity to be coached by Dean Burridge. He was one of Clinton High’s all-time greats. Bobby Witt and I played on the eighth grade first team at St. Pat’s from sixth graded, on.
Like Dean Burridge before him, Bobby was a starter at Clinton High from his sophomore year on, and made first-team all –state his senior years, while being the leading scorer in the Mississippi Valley Conference his senior year.
Bobby and I loved basketball. He would come over to my house three doors down from him IN THE SHADOW OF THE COURTHOUSE (2003), and we would play basketball with a tennis ball and a nailed to the wall two-pound coffee can. We would clean the St. Patrick’s gym on Sunday after MASS, the church having had bingo there on the night before, and play sometimes when the gym was little above freezing temperatures with no heat.
Years later, coach Ed Rashke, after we returned from South Africa in 1969, and I had retired the first time, would watch the Final Four of the NCAA Tournament with me in my home. His wife's sister and brother-in-law, a retired dentist, were neighbors. The Rashke's made annual visits to them during "March Madness,” which gave him an excuse to visit me and watch the games on television.
This is in way of introduction to the place basketball has had in my psyche.
Bobby and I loved basketball. He would come over to my house three doors down from him IN THE SHADOW OF THE COURTHOUSE (2003), and we would play basketball with a tennis ball and a nailed to the wall two-pound coffee can. We would clean the St. Patrick’s gym on Sunday after MASS, the church having had bingo there on the night before, and play sometimes when the gym was little above freezing temperatures with no heat.
Years later, coach Ed Rashke, after we returned from South Africa in 1969, and I had retired the first time, would watch the Final Four of the NCAA Tournament with me in my home. His wife's sister and brother-in-law, a retired dentist, were neighbors. The Rashke's made annual visits to them during "March Madness,” which gave him an excuse to visit me and watch the games on television.
This is in way of introduction to the place basketball has had in my psyche.
Yesterday, I watched Murray State and Marquette University play in a stunning basketball game, basketball as I envisioned it was meant to be played: full-court presses, fast breaks, good ball handling with every player on the floor a good shooter, rebounder, defensive player and scorer from any place on the floor.
I've never seen ten players at one time on a high school or college basketball court who were so incredibly gifted as athletes. Nor have I seen better teamwork on both sides of the basketball and better sportsmanship – a player knocked an opposing player off the court, and without rancor on either side, helped each other up, and resumed play as if nothing had happened.
I told BB that were I a boy today, given what African Americans have made of the game of basketball, as all the players were of that race, I couldn't have made even the third or fourth team, and I loved basketball. I just never had such athleticism.
Anyone who has ever played basketball knows that it takes incredible endurance to play the game, and that it takes an equally incredible athleticism to keep the body under control much less be able to dribble, shoot and defend against equally gifted athletes running at breakneck speed.
Never have I seen such quickness, such deft ball handling, such quick hands, such arm extension and vertical jumping ability, ever, of virtually every athlete on the floor. There were players as short as six-one who could dunk the ball with ease, block shots and steal the ball and cover the court in a matter of three or four massive dribbles.
,
If you like athletics, and you enjoy watching how a great spectator sport has evolved, I hope you see some reruns of this game. Awesome!
I told BB that were I a boy today, given what African Americans have made of the game of basketball, as all the players were of that race, I couldn't have made even the third or fourth team, and I loved basketball. I just never had such athleticism.
Anyone who has ever played basketball knows that it takes incredible endurance to play the game, and that it takes an equally incredible athleticism to keep the body under control much less be able to dribble, shoot and defend against equally gifted athletes running at breakneck speed.
Never have I seen such quickness, such deft ball handling, such quick hands, such arm extension and vertical jumping ability, ever, of virtually every athlete on the floor. There were players as short as six-one who could dunk the ball with ease, block shots and steal the ball and cover the court in a matter of three or four massive dribbles.
,
If you like athletics, and you enjoy watching how a great spectator sport has evolved, I hope you see some reruns of this game. Awesome!
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