I was having lunch last week at Hogie Joe’s in Thomson, Georgia. My Dad, brother, and I were talking about news issues of the day when I noticed a tall gentleman walked into the restaurant. I immediately recognized him as my old high school basketball teammate and friend, Arte Cole. Also known in 1987 as Swoop. The good news is that Swoop recognized me, too, so at least I knew the years haven’t eroded me beyond recognition.
We greeted each other with a big smile, handshake, and a hug. Nothing like old teammates. If you never had the privilege of being part of a sports team, let me tell you that there’s nothing like it. You don’t see each other for years, but you can pick up right where you left off. You remember certain plays. You laugh about stupid things you said or did “back in the day.” Slightly below innocent mischief mostly, but enough to keep coaches and teachers worrying about your intelligence. You grin a toothy smile when you think of defeating archrival Gatewood on their home court and being showered with insults and popcorn from their student body as we exited the court. I still chuckle at the thought of our team bus having to have a police escort to the Putnam County line.
As a sports team member, you work hard and work together for a common cause. You make the sacrifice and pay the price for an unknown outcome, but you have hope that you will stand together in the victory circle and school history will record you as a champion when the dust settles. I can only imagine that serving in military combat would make a group closer.
Ol’ Swoop Arte Cole and I were part of a basketball team that knocked the socks off of a lot of would-be challengers. Our team was the Briarwood Bucs. More affectionately known as the Runnin’ Bucs, and we averaged almost 90 points per game for four years.
We were a small single A high school, but somehow Coach Keith Arrington assembled one of those “once in a lifetime” groups. We won over 80 games in my four years of high school. During those basketball years I got to play with guys like Perry Frundt, who played professional basketball in Europe. I played with bullseye left-handed shooter, Steve Chalker, who was also an elite trash talker. There was Jay Reese, a rebounding machine that averaged double digit rebounds at 5’11”, a feat unheard of in basketball. His boxouts and elbows were so legendary that he still has assault and battery charges pending in four Georgia counties. The team also featured the “Twin Towers” underneath. The Towers would be J.J. Cooper at 6’8” and Swoop Arte Cole at 6’9”.
As if that wasn’t enough, the Runnin’ Bucs also had Marc “Spare Rib” Mauldin and Stephen “Wes” Ward. Spare Rib and Wes both averaged double digits rotating in and out with the Twin Towers. Tony “Buck” Amerson was our three-point man dropping bombs comparable to sniper range shots, and Travis Paul was our defensive cerebral assassin… the kind of guy you dreaded guarding you. He had no nickname because we were scared to give him one. And then we had a bench full of guys that could have started for most any team we played.
All these guys on one team…. And then there was me. All 5’10” of me at the point guard. I was the basketball quarterback. The ball handler whose job description was simple. Get the mail in the hands of those that will deliver it. And boy, howdy, did they ever deliver. I could dribble through and break most any press that teams might attempt, and then…. Well, I just passed the ball and sat back to enjoy the show.
We destroyed most every team in our path. The domination was such that student body fans like Clay “Foo” Hall, Doug Smith, and Chris “BoHog” Radford had signs made counting the number of blocked shots and dunks that occurred each game. How awesome that even our fans had nicknames! The team credited them with several of our wins because of their outstanding harassment of the opposing team and their fanbase. There may be lawsuits still pending over their actions after J.J. thunder dunked in the victory over Thomas Jefferson Academy.
So many fun times. Seems like it wasn’t that long ago.
But it was.
When I saw Arte at lunch, all these memories came flooding back. It was 36 years ago that Arte, myself, and the rest of those Runnin’ Bucs played the game that we loved so much. What an amazing and fun time…. The late 1980s running up and down the basketball court with the best friends anybody could ever hope to have.
We went to school and played ball together. We picked on each other. We decided on nicknames together. Mine was TJ and to this day all the old school friends still call me TJ. We pulled pranks on each other. We talked about girlfriends and who in the school drove the best truck. We hunted together and talked about who caught the most fish over the weekend. We cruised the Sonic drive-in in Thomson, Georgia, after ballgames to eat cheese tater tots, drink a cherry slush, and visit with the babes. We were brothers and we loved one another.
Such a fun time to grow up in a small southern town in the 1980s! And what a time we had! But the problem with time is that it stops for no one. It just keeps on ticking. That ticking time changed those Runnin’ Bucs from high-top wearing athletes into high school graduates. Time made us become employees and ball handling drills turned into staff meetings. Jump shooters became husbands. Instead of playing help side defense, we became fathers with mortgage payments.
Now that the time has continued on and given us more fun things like tuition payments, bad knees, gray hair, and reading glasses. Those kids we all had grew up and started their own lives. That same time kept ticking until we saw one another again at the funeral of a team parent. And then another team parent funeral.
I wish I could slow it down.
Seeing my old teammate…well, it made me wish I could go back one more time and split the press and lob the ball to Arte for the dunk on Gatewood. I hear the crowd cheering. I hear Coach Arrington yelling. I smell the sweat and the popcorn cooking in the concession stand. I feel the net in my hand as I cut it away from the rim after winning the Region Championship.
In that moment time stood still. If only we could go back.
The Gene Hackman character in the movie Hoosiers said it best. I love you guys.
Ecclesiastes 3: 1 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.
