Still the Same or The Glory Game
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- Tuck the ball in tight, I never fumbled.
Tina Turner sings a version of the song, “Proud Mary.” The first part her voice is soft and easy, and then she lets it all hang out and sings it easy and rough.
I’m going to tell you a true story in which the author played a small part. The stars are a group of young boys fifteen to eighteen years of age trying to become men and playing the American version of football. On October 19, 1973 in Phoenix, Arizona, the Paradise Valley Trojans met the St. Mary’s Knight’s.
There isn’t a surprise ending, at least not for our team. We didn’t possess talent in bunches. We speak of the Hold Spirit as something unidentifiable. Team spirit and desire are the same, you can’t see it, but you can feel it. This team came together that night and played an outstanding game.
St. Mary’s was 5-0, ranked fifth in the state of Arizona.
It started in the end zone during the pre-game warm up, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me give you the Scottsdale Progress version of the game and Tom Owens, reporter, thoughts of the evening.
The story starts with a picture, a cartoon of a large Trojan Warrior holding a knife to the throat of a Knight and the caption, “So you “Thought” you could beat us, Huh? A small figure at the bottom of the cartoon, a referee, giving thumbs down to the Knight.
By Tom Owens
Sports Writer
The picture above as drawn by Paradise Valley cheerleader Ann Meade seems to sum up Trojan sentiment after soundly defeating St. Mary’s, 26-13. And the score should have been much worse.
As the saying goes, “Beware of the Trojans…,” and this time the horse was in the person of Gene Arrandale, who racked up 186 yards on the night, tacking on TD runs of four and 46 yards.
But PV’s running attack owes a lot to the passing arm of sophomore quarterback Greg Clark, playing his first complete game. Following a fumble recovery by Greg Overend early in the first quarter, Clark made PV’s first offensive play a scoring effort with a 28-yard TD strike to Tom Stehower. Pete Barnhizer converted and the Trojans had a lead which they never relinquished.
Still in the first quarter, the two teams exchanged interceptions, with the second going to PV’s Danny Lake. Arrandale then rambled for 28 yards, and a few plays later carried the last four. Barnhizer kicked the point after, making the lead 14-0.
St. Mary’s came back early in the second quarter, scoring on a 29-yard pass play from quarterback Chris Skelly to wide receiver Alcee (Speedy) Hart. The extra point was blocked by Jerry Grim and the score stood 14-6.
Clark started the next PV drive with a nine-yard pass to Stehower. Several plays later, Mitch Elrod stunned the Knights as he took the hand off on a counter at the 25 and streaked into the end zone. The PAT was blocked, but the Trojans held a commanding 20-6 lead.
Late in the half, Rick Pacius recovered a fumble deep in Knight territory. Clark passed to Stehower inside the five as the Trojans threatened to blow things wide open. Following a penalty against PV, and a nullified interception by St. Mary’s, the Trojans called their last time out. Faced with a third and goal with 15 seconds on the clock, Clark passed 10 yards to Stehower who was brought down at the 1 ½- yard line. The half ended with Barnhizer waiting for the snap for the field goal attempt.
The Trojan defense poured it on on the second half as Mike Clancy jarred the ball loose from a Knight ball carrier, which Dan Page recovered.
Clark started in the air again, this time going to Danny Lake for eight yards. Arrandale did the rest as he ripped off the last 46 yards in “one fell swoop,” as they say, upping the score to 26-6. A fake attempt and try for two failed.
With 18 seconds left in the third quarter, the Knights scored on a Skelly to Alen Whitaker aerial, covering seven yards. The point-after by Greg Gamez was good, and made the score 26-13, which may have been the last of the scoring, but not the last of the excitement.
St. Mary’s tried an off-side kick, but it was hauled in by PV’s Joe Demichele. The Trojans were forced to punt but got the ball back quickly when it was fumbled and recovered by Arrandale. PV marched inside St. Mary’s 10 but was held. A field goal attempt by Barnhizer was wide to the right, ending the threat.
In the waning minutes of the game, the ball was exchanged three times, deep in Trojan territory. Overend stymied the first scoring threat with an interception at his own five-yard line.
A few plays later, an Arrandale fumble was recovered by St. Mary’s Jeff Tipton. Once again it was Overend coming up with the big play as he nailed his second interception, sealing the victory, a first in the school’s history against the perennial powerhouse.
POINTS OF INTEREST: The only problem Dick Anders must have had after the game was trying to decide where to give credit first. I haven’t seen Dick since the game, but consider all the possibilities:
(a) The entire team; those of you who missed the game, missed one of the greatest shows of individual and team desire that’s ever been my pleasure to see.
(b) The defense; outstanding all year, they forced (and I do mean forced) eight turnovers with hard-hitting, aggressive play throughout the entire game.
(c) The offense; who finally put it all together behind quarterback Greg Clark against one of the best teams in the division.
(d) Gene Arrandale; always the workhorse of the offense, had one of his finest, if not the finest night of his career.
(e) Greg Overend; who spent the previous game on the sidelines with a throat infection putting up with the likes of me. First, he recovered a fumble which set up PV’s first score. In the second half he injured his knee making a solo tackle on an end-around, but he bounced back to make two critical interceptions at the end of the game.
(f) Greg Clark; only a sophomore, quarterbacked his first full game and led his team to victory against the odds-makers. Although he was intercepted twice, it was his passing that loosened up St. Mary’s defense and helped make the running game go.
(g) Mike Clancy; playing his usual game, which consists mainly of making the other team sorry he showed up. He recovered one fumble himself, and was responsible for jarring the ball loose several other went back in.
(h) Tom Stehower; usually known for his outstanding defensive play (which still is), is rapidly becoming known for his pass-catching feats.
(i) Jerry Grim; small, but a lot of talent per pound. Always seems to be where the ball is. Blocking a PAT attempt and throwing the ball carriers for losses is consistent with his kind of play.
(j) Dan Lake; slightly unheralded in the shadow of Arrandale, Lake does it all. He blocks well, runs hard, and is a good pass receiver. On defense, he had an interception, and plays a solid outside linebacker. He was injured during the game, but-
The list could go on; Van Pelt (who was also injured, but kept playing), Elrod, Pacius, McComb, Page, Godwin…see the problem?
“How sweet it is!” I guess that says it all.
****
The newspaper account reads interesting, but the real key is a couple of words, desire and intimidation.
St Mary’s was a powerhouse for as long as I could remember growing up in the Phoenix area. They are a private Catholic school and draw from the entire population, boys who wanted to go to school and receive a Catholic education and play for a terrific sports program.
Saint Mary’s High School was the first Catholic high school in Arizona and has been a part of the greater Phoenix metropolitan area since 1917. It was also Arizona’s first Catholic high school, founded by the Sisters of the Precious Blood. It began modestly, with classroom space for four boys and ten girls in Saint Anthony’s Elementary school.
In 1920, the school moved into a one-story home located on East Monroe Street. In 1928 all male students transferred to Brophy Preparatory School on Central Avenue. In 1936 because of the depression, Brophy closed its doors. For a short time, the boys were without a school, but then moved back to St. Mary’s and into a new building.
During the 1930s, a city block, bordered from Polk to Taylor and Second to Third Streets, was ultimately purchased for $24,000. Using this new land, the Franciscans built a second St. Marys. Their goal was to educate those boys displaced by the closure of Brophy High School. The separation of the boys and girls lasted until 1958 and then the girl’s school ended up condemned making way for a new Civic Plaza. On March 20, 1961, they held a dedication ceremony show casing the new seven-room addition to the school. Included in the expansion were a ramada and a library.
The Polk street campus sits on two acres. There are twenty-four classrooms and room for six hundred students.
The rapid development of downtown Phoenix created a land lock and forced cancellation of additional expansion plans for the inner city school.
Since the night of the game in 1973, the building the boys attended, ended up torn down in 1988. The school moved to its present location at Third Street and Sheridan. They renovated existing buildings, and constructed a multi-purpose building to house administration, classrooms, and a cafeteria. For the 2008-09 school year, Saint Mary’s enrollment of 778 students consisted of kids many different backgrounds.
****
Paradise Valley isn’t rich in history. A request to the current Principal went unanswered, so I’ll fill in the blanks with what little knowledge I possess and what’s available on the Internet.
The original school built in 1957, served a rural community spread out over a large geographical area. Within the community was a stratum of socio-economic sub-groups. From the extreme wealthy to the dirt poor, the school displayed a true melting pot of young people.
When I arrived, the school was in the throes of a population explosion. The summer before I arrived in 1972, they built a temporary 30,00 square foot, combination student center and classroom building.
In comparison to the stable, rich tradition of my previous school, I felt like I’d arrived in an outlaw school. The first one to greet me was Rick Bartelt. I quietly dressed for my initial football practice when a kid with floppy hair showed up next to my locker.
He said, “You played for Washington high, didn’t you?”
What could I say, busted, “Yes, I played for the Rams.”
“You were that guy we couldn’t guard in basketball, the one who never missed your shots, you killed us.”
I wasn’t that good at shooting, but I’d had a hot day against the Trojans. “Yep, that’s me, in the flesh, good old hot hand, my name is Dan.”
He stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Rick, danged glad you’re playing for us now and not against us. It made me tired guarding you.”
Rick turned out to be a great friend. We played basketball and baseball together, and he was a gifted athlete. He had some physical problems and couldn’t play football anymore, but his friends told me he was a great quarterback. Sadly, Rick died a few years after high school from a disease that is curable today. I can’t think of a better person to dedicate the story to than him. Rick, I’m sure you’re in Heaven, watching the rest of us fools, I love you my Christian brother.
At PV, there was no law; no order and chaos ruled each day. Streakers rode through the school on motorcycles and on foot, nobody to my knowledge, ever caught, but we sure laughed. Each day heralded the arrival of new teachers, students and a change in routine. We attended a free period each day where games were available to play for the students, crazy and wild.
The administrators weren’t in control and a pavilion they built for the students was a free sex, drinking and pot zone before school. This is my version, and when you don’t answer a simple request for information, don’t complain when the story that’s told travels through the eyes of a sixteen and seventeen year old.
One teacher who tried to intervene in the morning routine of crazy behavior ended up hospitalized. Sad, a result of the anything goes in the sixties, early seventies, and incompetent administrators.
Sometime after I attended the school, they demolished the old school and Paradise Valley High moved to a different location. The new school built at that location arrived with a new name, but a few years later public sentiment demanded they change the name back to Paradise Valley.
Today, the athletic facilities are first class. I went there in 2008, and took an unguided tour one fine summer day. I could still feel and sense the sounds from the football field and baseball diamond. The baseball field is perfect, gone is the dirt infield strewn with rocks that made any ground ball a guessing game.
I bet Tom Stehower our shortstop would love to play on the new field.
The football stadium surface is no longer grass, but now artificial turf, fantastic seating and a wonderful scoreboard for the players and fans to enjoy the Friday night games.
The field we played on sported large patches of dirt in the middle and the ground felt rock hard. I’m thrilled the kids today receive the best facilities available. I’ll give credit to PV for starting to upgrade the program when I arrived. However, that credit goes to the board of trustees. They gave us the latest equipment, and we were the first team in Arizona to have a college educated team trainer. That simple fact saved a young mans life one game my senior year. He suffered a broken neck tackling with his head down and only the prompt and correct action of our trainer, Mike Shimensky, saved him from becoming a paraplegic for life or possible death.
That’s the history of PV based on my knowledge.
One last name I need to mention, Mike Carns. Mike played a year ahead of me, I’ll speak about this group later and some of the things I say aren’t very complimentary. It’s not personal, but that group messed up a golden chance to be state champions. Why did it mean so much? Drugs and drinking were the primary reason they failed. I still display the card from his funeral on my religious altar to remember how fragile life can be for the young.
Mike was a great guy and enjoyed partying. His death held one key to our season and the victory over St. Mary. On a senior ditch day, him and a group of his friends went to the Verde River to drink and tube. Mike always said he wanted to die with a Budweiser in one hand and a joint in the other. I wasn’t there to see what really happened, but his friends told us he received his wish. He rode a motorcycle and coming back from the river his cycle collided with a one-ton truck head on at 55 miles per hour. Mike, our God is benevolent, and I’m sure you’re with Him, but it makes me sad to think how short your life ended up because of drugs and alcohol. It’s because of you that I ride so carefully. Each trip I make on my bike, I promise my family that I’ll return in one piece.
****
I found myself at Paradise Valley High School in the summer of 1972. I didn’t want to be a Trojan. I didn’t like the school or the kids who played sports and represented them. Schools earn a reputation, earned or not and poor sportsmanship was PV’s moniker. I grew to love the kids and today am proud to call myself a Trojan.
****
The evening of October 19, 1973 seemed filled with a sense of anticipation and excitement. I think we knew as a team something special would happen tonight.
The week of practice felt very intense. The season started well for us, but then fell apart with two losses in our next four games. We won our first game, but then tied one, won one and lost two. We entered that week, 2-2-1.
I played fullback on offense and left cornerback on defense. Forget what the newspaper said, no linebacker position for me. I just played close to the line of scrimmage and defended the run very well. Not brag, but I was the only player who started both offense and defense each week. At the end of the game, it left me totally exhausted.
St. Mary’s started a defensive end who was an all-state player and the coaches changed the blocking assignment on our bread and butter play, a 26 or 27 depending on the side of the field we ran the play, that’s the tailback running between the tackle and the end.
My job was to kick out the defensive end and open the hole. I took great pride in sticking my helmet into the opposing player’s numbers and trying to drive my facemask into his spine. Football is a very violent game and today my neck is arthritic. However, I wouldn’t give up a single experience from playing sports. Giving me help on blocking offended me, and I vowed to make my man pay all night. At halftime, they dropped the blocking change because the coaches said I made the guy sorry he showed up. If they were trying to motivate me, it worked.
The electricity started with the pre-game pep talk. Normally Coach Dick Anders, a man who I tremendously respected gave the talk. Tonight it was the Pollock. Coach Crofcheck, a man proud of his heritage. Usually he spoke few words, but that night, he electrified us with a speech that included references to the other team’s fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters and how he expected us to kick them from one end of the field to the other. It might be their homecoming, but we were going to ruin the night for them.
Our other coaches were just smiling as Crofcheck screamed and yelled, spittle flying from his mouth, Craig Anderson was the linebacker coach, Paul Hibbert, Mike Gray, and last but not least, Roy Muller.
I remember seeing the managers, Boyd Smith and Tom Redman readying the equipment. Somewhere, I still have the kicking tee from that night. What, after thirty-seven years do you think the school will bill me for the equipment I borrowed?
Our first tactic involved interrupting St. Mary’s routine. They always warmed up in the same end zone. Visiting team chooses which end zone they want to use. Before that night, all the teams had acquiesced to their request to use a certain end zone.
The visitor takes the field first. Our cheerleaders and pom-pom line waited. I remember seeing each face, Annie Meade, Karen Hayes, Sherri Pewterbaugh, Tempest Alford, and Sue Babbitt made up the cheerleaders. These were girls with true character. Today the typical cheerleader seems characterized as an empty-headed zombie. The football players, cheerleaders and pom-pom line were good friends and without their support, this night wouldn’t have happened.
The pom-pom line came next, again all solid students; they made two rows for us to run through. Each face etched in my memory, Jennifer Bingamon, Kim Haines, Mary Graham, Karen Boldby, Jackie Lebrun, Terri Scheller, Kelli Royer, Diane Melanson, Karen Caserta, Claudia Bloom, Laurie Svoma, Terri Davis, Karen Neary, Janet Parker, Denise Harkinson, Beth Rohe and Beverly Sherrick.
We took their end zone and started our pre-game warm-up. Mike Clancy and Peter Barnhizer were leading the warm-up. The two of them were our offensive and defensive captains.
St. Mary’s came out on the field and their players told us to move. I don’t remember who told them to get lost. Either Tom Stehower or Mike Clancy was the one who spoke first. Before long players were screaming at each other, shoves exchanged and finally all the coaches showed up.
The St. Mary’s coach tried to state his case, Dick Anders gave him a shrug as if to say, “What can I do, the boys want this end of the field.”
We stayed and as they walked away, we called them every name in the book.
****
Very few fans showed up to watch us play that night. Again, that’s why the support of the cheerleaders and pom-pom line meant so much.
I remember each play. Repeatedly, I tried to bury their defensive end on run plays. I gave up a touchdown pass. I’d made three tackles in a row on trap plays and the fourth play; they ran a trap option pass and I fell for the fake. No excuse, I could say the safety, Dan Page, should have covered the deep half, but that’s blaming somebody else.
The coaches told us in practice, they liked to throw a ten-yard out on third and long. I jumped the pattern and that led to my interception. Teams rarely threw to my side of the field. My reputation for man on man coverage was excellent, plus I loved to make the receiver pay each time they threw a ball in my zone.
I’d never seen so many turnovers in one game. Every time I turned around, they fumbled the ball, or we intercepted a pass. The key to the game started in the end zone when we upset their routine. Then when we scored on the first play it threw them off balance. Their regular quarterback didn’t play because of an injury, and they didn’t have the confidence in his back up to come back and win. However, I don’t think it would have mattered who quarterbacked them that night.
My good friend Greg Overend sealed the victory with two interceptions in the fourth quarter. I can’t tell you how thrilled it made me feel to see him perform at such a high level. Add the interceptions to his first quarter fumble recovery and he was a true hero that night.
The paper spoke a lot about Gene Arrandale. Maybe his brother liked him, but the rest of the team didn’t care for Gene. His primary interest seemed to be his statistics and how many yards he gained each game. Football takes a greater team effort than any other sport I played. All eleven men on the team need to do their job for a play to work. If Gene didn’t carry the ball, he didn’t care what happened. The paper said he gained 186 yards rushing and the official statistics showed he gained 188 yards. Gene complained to the newspaper writer about the discrepancy.
Mike Clancy is the player everybody knows at one time playing football, a true animal. Today I’d call him an M&M, hard on the outside, but soft inside. Few people knew how much he loved his mother, sister, and things that happened at home deeply affected him. For some reason, he liked me, and I’d much rather be his friend than his enemy. Mike was a terror that night. The entire defensive line tore their offense up.
Finally, the gun sounded, the game was over and a huge upset had occurred. We just looked at each other, grinned, hugged, the cheerleaders and pom-pom line joined in and so did our parents. The stands were empty because everybody celebrated on the field. The greatest game I ever played in finally over, and we went home and crashed, too tired to celebrate.
****
We were a special group and the seniors led the way. We didn’t possess talent in bunches, but we had heart and the desire to play our best. We never had a bad practice and only one time did the coaches manufacture a reason to send us home early. Fortunately, one of the assistants warned us before practice, so our hearts didn’t feel crushed. The seniors drove the underclassman, in part because the team the year before possessed loads of talent, but no self-discipline.
In 1972, it wasn’t unusual for players to show up before a game, drunk, stoned or both. This led to players wearing out during the game, jumping off sides and then laughing. We swore it wouldn’t happen again, and we kept that pledge.
I felt a bit sorry for Peter Barnhizer, a good friend. He’d been the starting quarterback, but that night the coaches decided to go with a sophomore, Greg Clark. It wasn’t because of anything Peter did or didn’t do, but it was more about what Greg could do with his arm. We never turned our back on Peter; we insisted that he continue as the team captain the entire season, that’s just the way we were.
Other events happened that season that I will not discuss, we took care of them internally and disciplined each other.
Monty Cole was a junior, and I liked the kid, but for some reason he didn’t like me. He dropped a pass my junior year that would have won a game. I climbed all over him and after that, nothing was the same between us.
The year after I graduated from Paradise Valley, the Trojans put together a 9-1 season. Nobody was happier for them that me. They were reaping the seeds, we sowed, and hard work, plus talent, good coaching, this equals wins and Dick Anders functioned as a heck of a head coach.
I went to a game the year after I graduated, after the game Monty came up to me, got in my face, and yelled, “We’re a lot better than you guys were!”
I’m thinking, “Man, I’m happy for you and real proud of your record.” Actually, their success reflected back on our leadership. Monty, wherever you are, no hard feelings, but you were a jerk that night, and I’m glad you guys won so many games.
I believe the only team they lost to, St. Mary. No, I’m not gloating.
****
Epilogue: Everything must end. At some point, you need to turn your back and walk away from playing team sports. Many players believe the cards would never do them wrong, now they walk with a permanent limp. The trick is never play the game too long. I guess if we used a Bob Seger song, we’d say only bet a gambler share, that’s the only loss you could forsake and the only bluff that can’t be faked.
Playing against St. Mary’s I believe we caught a team that became used to moving from one game to the next game, always winning. Helping them believe a win would be easy that night was our reputation and lousy game performance leading up to the game. All of these things bolstered their self-confidence. They believed all they needed to do was show up, and the game would be over.
We didn’t give up, everybody watched them start to play, but we just turned and walked away from their head games and played one of our own.
Today, most of my joints ache every day. I don’t know how much football plays a role in the pain, but it was worth the game. Later in life, I ran 10K’s, 15K’s; half marathons and even full marathons, so many opportunities existed to damage my joints. Still I wouldn’t trade any of those experiences to wipe away the hurt.
Thanks for reading my small glory game.
In Peace,
#21 Dan Lake aka Laker
