Showing posts with label wayne huckel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wayne huckel. Show all posts
3.06.2010
RIP Bryan Adrian
Obit. Greensboro Sports: I remember Huckel real well and then in 1970 Bryan Adrian was one of the stars with the Maloy, Cook, and Kroll bunch. His camp. DavidsonCats.com.
11.26.2009
Retro jerseys!
Matt Nicholson offers up the idea over on Cats.com. For instance:
It’s a great idea. Who do we need to talk to to make this happen? And who else? My proposed addition: #40 Kosmalski. Or Williams. Your choice.
#44 Hetzel
#10 Snyder
#15 Maloy
#33 Gerdy
#11 Rucker
#13 Huckel
It’s a great idea. Who do we need to talk to to make this happen? And who else? My proposed addition: #40 Kosmalski. Or Williams. Your choice.
3.15.2009
March 15, 1969
Forty years ago today, Carolina beat Davidson in the regional finals in College Park, Md., 87-85 on a buzzer-beating shot by Tar Heel great Charlie Scott.
Here, from my notes from the late ‘90s from some of my reporting for the old book, are some of the memories of those who were there:
Dave Moser ‘69: “It’s been hard to swallow for 30 years, that game. I still feel we were the better ball club. I have to say: Charlie Scott was a heck of a player. You could play good defense but still couldn’t stop him from shooting a 15-foot jump shot. In ’68, I could accept it, but I still feel we were the better team in ’69.”
Jerry Kroll ’70: “I was really pissed in ’68. I knew we should have won that game. It stung. But ’69 was worse. We had the ball with a minute to go and the official calls a charge on me and I foul out. At best, it was a questionable call; Gerald Tuttle fell down, and they called a charge on me.”
Wayne Huckel ’69: “We were the better team.”
Bob Dunham ’70, former Davidsonian sports editor: “I knew, if they couldn’t deny the ball to Charlie Scott, as soon as he got the ball -- it was over. It was not a matter of defense. It was Charlie Scott. He was magic with the ball.”
Luther Moore ’69, team manager at the time: “He earned it. Mike O’Neill was on him and had his hand in his face.”
Moser: “It wasn’t like O’Neill was playing bad defense.”
Bobby Vagt ’69, former Davidson president: “Pain. Agony.”
Tony Orsbon ‘69: “It’s an image that sticks with you, and that’s an image I’ll never forget, Charlie Scott going up in the key.”
Charlie Scott UNC ’70: “There was no doubt who was going to take that last shot. I wasn’t going to pass it. A lot of the Davidson guys are still upset about that. That’s North Carolina basketball, though -- people got long memories.”
Here, from my notes from the late ‘90s from some of my reporting for the old book, are some of the memories of those who were there:
Dave Moser ‘69: “It’s been hard to swallow for 30 years, that game. I still feel we were the better ball club. I have to say: Charlie Scott was a heck of a player. You could play good defense but still couldn’t stop him from shooting a 15-foot jump shot. In ’68, I could accept it, but I still feel we were the better team in ’69.”
Jerry Kroll ’70: “I was really pissed in ’68. I knew we should have won that game. It stung. But ’69 was worse. We had the ball with a minute to go and the official calls a charge on me and I foul out. At best, it was a questionable call; Gerald Tuttle fell down, and they called a charge on me.”
Wayne Huckel ’69: “We were the better team.”
Bob Dunham ’70, former Davidsonian sports editor: “I knew, if they couldn’t deny the ball to Charlie Scott, as soon as he got the ball -- it was over. It was not a matter of defense. It was Charlie Scott. He was magic with the ball.”
Luther Moore ’69, team manager at the time: “He earned it. Mike O’Neill was on him and had his hand in his face.”
Moser: “It wasn’t like O’Neill was playing bad defense.”
Bobby Vagt ’69, former Davidson president: “Pain. Agony.”
Tony Orsbon ‘69: “It’s an image that sticks with you, and that’s an image I’ll never forget, Charlie Scott going up in the key.”
Charlie Scott UNC ’70: “There was no doubt who was going to take that last shot. I wasn’t going to pass it. A lot of the Davidson guys are still upset about that. That’s North Carolina basketball, though -- people got long memories.”
1.29.2009
Others on Maloy
More on the Davidson All-American from my notes from my interviews for the old book:
Doug Cook ’70, Dec. 16, 1998, Montclair, N.J.: “Mike had some problems down there. He played it off because he had such a great personality. If you’re a black guy, do you really want to go to a Southern school with all these rich, white kids?”
“Mike was Mr. Personality. He was just that type of guy. Very fun-loving. I don’t think Mike ran into problems with students on campus. He ran into problems with fans.”
“But I think he felt like he was something of a novelty like he was on stage all the time. I think some of the local activist people got to him by senior year. He was just no longer the happy go-lucky guy. He was more concerned with what was going on in the world.”
Fox DeMoisey ’70: “Maloy had arms like an albatross, and huge hands. When he caught a basketball, it’d be like you catching a tennis ball. You really had to make an awful pass for him not to catch it.”
“Maloy had a damn near photographic memory. He didn’t make the grades simply because of disinterest.”
Mike Dickens ’69, October 1998, Bethesda, Md.: “A very bright guy. Incredibly charming. His life is about being smart and charming, and never stringing it together.”
“Maloy would get out there, Rodney Knowles would stand there, Maloy would make three moves, and Knowles was still reacting to the first.”
“Mike didn’t have anything but friends. Mike would hang out socially with black folks from the other side of the tracks. But by and large, he socialized with us, his fraternity brothers, playing Frisbee, playing bridge.”
Bob Dunham ’70, Jan. 6, 1999, Chapel Hill: “He went through a hard time at Davidson, just like anybody else who was African-American in those days -- not just at Davidson, but in the South. He took some verbal abuse, not from Davidson fans so much as other fans -- he would get heckled on the road.”
“Mike had this sense that he often felt somewhat used at Davidson as just a sports figure. The people who knew Mike didn’t feel that way. A lot of us just liked to spend time with him. One of the regrets of my life is that he drifted away from Davidson and from his friends there.”
“Mike had an infectious laugh.”
“I think he just didn’t care a lot. There was no question about his ability. He was as bright as can be.”
Tom Couch, Jan. 11, 1999, Davidson: “Lefty was a disciplinarian until it came time to win. Mike knew that, and played to that.”
“Everyone loved the guy to death. Everyone loved Mike Maloy.”
“He was so smart it was unbelievable. Mike was the kind of guy who passed without even buying a book.”
Wayne Huckel ’69, Nov. 5, 1998, Charlotte: “Mike had the best of both worlds, in my opinion. He fit in so well because he was so likeable. Plus he was also embraced by the black community across the tracks.”
Steve Kirley ’71, January 1999, Clemmons, N.C.: “He had some of the biggest arms and biggest hands you’ll ever see. He played like a 7-footer.”
Jan Postma ’70, Dec. 11, 1998, Spartanburg, S.C.: “I liked Mike a lot. He was real smart. Unbelievably smart. He could pick up languages just like that. His biggest problem was he was just immature.”
“Mike tried to laugh it off, but it was pretty stressful. I think that all blacks at the time felt like fish out of water. It didn’t matter where you went. Personally I wouldn’t have wanted to be a black student at Davidson.”
Lester Strong ’72, Dec. 24, 1998, Boston: “I’ll never forget being in the low post defending him and his body. He was like a whirling dervish. You never knew which way the guy was going to go. It was like hitting this wall of muscle.”
Doug Cook ’70, Dec. 16, 1998, Montclair, N.J.: “Mike had some problems down there. He played it off because he had such a great personality. If you’re a black guy, do you really want to go to a Southern school with all these rich, white kids?”
“Mike was Mr. Personality. He was just that type of guy. Very fun-loving. I don’t think Mike ran into problems with students on campus. He ran into problems with fans.”
“But I think he felt like he was something of a novelty like he was on stage all the time. I think some of the local activist people got to him by senior year. He was just no longer the happy go-lucky guy. He was more concerned with what was going on in the world.”
Fox DeMoisey ’70: “Maloy had arms like an albatross, and huge hands. When he caught a basketball, it’d be like you catching a tennis ball. You really had to make an awful pass for him not to catch it.”
“Maloy had a damn near photographic memory. He didn’t make the grades simply because of disinterest.”
Mike Dickens ’69, October 1998, Bethesda, Md.: “A very bright guy. Incredibly charming. His life is about being smart and charming, and never stringing it together.”
“Maloy would get out there, Rodney Knowles would stand there, Maloy would make three moves, and Knowles was still reacting to the first.”
“Mike didn’t have anything but friends. Mike would hang out socially with black folks from the other side of the tracks. But by and large, he socialized with us, his fraternity brothers, playing Frisbee, playing bridge.”
Bob Dunham ’70, Jan. 6, 1999, Chapel Hill: “He went through a hard time at Davidson, just like anybody else who was African-American in those days -- not just at Davidson, but in the South. He took some verbal abuse, not from Davidson fans so much as other fans -- he would get heckled on the road.”
“Mike had this sense that he often felt somewhat used at Davidson as just a sports figure. The people who knew Mike didn’t feel that way. A lot of us just liked to spend time with him. One of the regrets of my life is that he drifted away from Davidson and from his friends there.”
“Mike had an infectious laugh.”
“I think he just didn’t care a lot. There was no question about his ability. He was as bright as can be.”
Tom Couch, Jan. 11, 1999, Davidson: “Lefty was a disciplinarian until it came time to win. Mike knew that, and played to that.”
“Everyone loved the guy to death. Everyone loved Mike Maloy.”
“He was so smart it was unbelievable. Mike was the kind of guy who passed without even buying a book.”
Wayne Huckel ’69, Nov. 5, 1998, Charlotte: “Mike had the best of both worlds, in my opinion. He fit in so well because he was so likeable. Plus he was also embraced by the black community across the tracks.”
Steve Kirley ’71, January 1999, Clemmons, N.C.: “He had some of the biggest arms and biggest hands you’ll ever see. He played like a 7-footer.”
Jan Postma ’70, Dec. 11, 1998, Spartanburg, S.C.: “I liked Mike a lot. He was real smart. Unbelievably smart. He could pick up languages just like that. His biggest problem was he was just immature.”
“Mike tried to laugh it off, but it was pretty stressful. I think that all blacks at the time felt like fish out of water. It didn’t matter where you went. Personally I wouldn’t have wanted to be a black student at Davidson.”
Lester Strong ’72, Dec. 24, 1998, Boston: “I’ll never forget being in the low post defending him and his body. He was like a whirling dervish. You never knew which way the guy was going to go. It was like hitting this wall of muscle.”
1.26.2009
First Maloy interview
On the phone from Vienna, on April 21, 1999, for the old book:
“I wanted to get out of New York. New York sucked back then. Drugs killed a lot of my friends. College and basketball were my way to get out of New York.”
“Lots of green. North Carolina weather.”
“Lefty had gotten a few people to take me out. I had a great time at this after-hours joint. So I was sick as a dog. I was barfing when the security guard came. Everyone else took off.”
“I had to write a latter to the school to apologize -- the usual bullshit. But I was not the first or the last to do that at Davidson. It was just some young guys hanging out. It was actually good. It forced me to really choose to go there because I had to write that letter.”
“It was a stupid thing to do. But when you’ve got to barf you’ve got to barf. I had a good time.”
“I read all the time. Still do.”
“My French was pretty good at that time. I want to learn Italian now. That’s next on my list. I know German and English now and some French still.”
On Charlie Scott: “I thought Charlie was going to be there. I assumed we were both going to be there. We hooked up down there for our visit.” When did he find out Charlie wasn’t coming? “When I got there. But it didn’t influence my decision. The first day I got there, I said, ‘This is where I’d like to go.’”
“Charlie Scott was one of the best players who ever played. Carolina was very good. They were very deep and we weren’t that deep. Lefty played seven guys. Every coach has his own philosophy. Carolina could get every player they wanted.”
On Dave Moser: “Dave was a great guard. He never made any mistakes at all. People underestimated him.”
On Wayne Huckel: “Wayne was the toughest. Lefty made him use hip pads. He was just one big bruise. When you played with Wayne you really felt bad if you didn’t dive for a ball on the floor. Because Wayne would bite somebody’s leg off for it.”
“Lefty wasn’t comfortable playing with everybody. You’ve got to stay with it. If we make a couple more shots against Carolina, Lefty’s coach of the year. Shit, man, we were a great team, and we lost to a great team.”
“Lefty’s a great guy. He was the hardest worker. He could move his ears. He doesn’t lie to you. I liked him.”
On the SigmaChi situation: “We did that just to make a thing.”
“I spent a lot of time across the tracks. That was necessary. You’ve got to have some kind of balance. That’s where I could just relax, not have to look over my shoulder. That was necessary at Davidson, a very, very, very white Southern atmosphere.”
“I had some very good friends there. But not everyone was my friend there. Where are the black folks? Across the tracks. Literally. I had to go over and get some soul food.”
The people at Davidson? “A little bit of everything. They were generally tolerant and friendly. I thought they did pretty well, actually, for the ‘60s. My roommate accepted me right away. There were some great people there. Some embraced the idea.”
“But in 1999 even you still have people there that are going to be racist. In 2099 too. Racism is a fact. You accept it. There was no overt racism. People who didn’t like me stayed away from me.”
Any incidents? “Every day, man.”
“When you’re in junior high and high school in New York, you read about things, but you’re not confronting them. One of the deep reasons I wanted to go to Davidson was because there weren’t many blacks. You have to seek confrontation in situations like that.”
“The thing that was really disappointing to me was you realize it’s not just the rednecks that are racist. Looking around, some of the most racist people in the world are in the North. I still think Boston is one of the most racist cities in America.”
“People you consider to be intelligent have that blind spot. And that’s disappointing because we’re talking about America, the richest country in the world, and they’re not doing anything about it. That’s one of the reasons I’m over here.”
“I wanted to get out of New York. New York sucked back then. Drugs killed a lot of my friends. College and basketball were my way to get out of New York.”
“Lots of green. North Carolina weather.”
“Lefty had gotten a few people to take me out. I had a great time at this after-hours joint. So I was sick as a dog. I was barfing when the security guard came. Everyone else took off.”
“I had to write a latter to the school to apologize -- the usual bullshit. But I was not the first or the last to do that at Davidson. It was just some young guys hanging out. It was actually good. It forced me to really choose to go there because I had to write that letter.”
“It was a stupid thing to do. But when you’ve got to barf you’ve got to barf. I had a good time.”
“I read all the time. Still do.”
“My French was pretty good at that time. I want to learn Italian now. That’s next on my list. I know German and English now and some French still.”
On Charlie Scott: “I thought Charlie was going to be there. I assumed we were both going to be there. We hooked up down there for our visit.” When did he find out Charlie wasn’t coming? “When I got there. But it didn’t influence my decision. The first day I got there, I said, ‘This is where I’d like to go.’”
“Charlie Scott was one of the best players who ever played. Carolina was very good. They were very deep and we weren’t that deep. Lefty played seven guys. Every coach has his own philosophy. Carolina could get every player they wanted.”
On Dave Moser: “Dave was a great guard. He never made any mistakes at all. People underestimated him.”
On Wayne Huckel: “Wayne was the toughest. Lefty made him use hip pads. He was just one big bruise. When you played with Wayne you really felt bad if you didn’t dive for a ball on the floor. Because Wayne would bite somebody’s leg off for it.”
“Lefty wasn’t comfortable playing with everybody. You’ve got to stay with it. If we make a couple more shots against Carolina, Lefty’s coach of the year. Shit, man, we were a great team, and we lost to a great team.”
“Lefty’s a great guy. He was the hardest worker. He could move his ears. He doesn’t lie to you. I liked him.”
On the SigmaChi situation: “We did that just to make a thing.”
“I spent a lot of time across the tracks. That was necessary. You’ve got to have some kind of balance. That’s where I could just relax, not have to look over my shoulder. That was necessary at Davidson, a very, very, very white Southern atmosphere.”
“I had some very good friends there. But not everyone was my friend there. Where are the black folks? Across the tracks. Literally. I had to go over and get some soul food.”
The people at Davidson? “A little bit of everything. They were generally tolerant and friendly. I thought they did pretty well, actually, for the ‘60s. My roommate accepted me right away. There were some great people there. Some embraced the idea.”
“But in 1999 even you still have people there that are going to be racist. In 2099 too. Racism is a fact. You accept it. There was no overt racism. People who didn’t like me stayed away from me.”
Any incidents? “Every day, man.”
“When you’re in junior high and high school in New York, you read about things, but you’re not confronting them. One of the deep reasons I wanted to go to Davidson was because there weren’t many blacks. You have to seek confrontation in situations like that.”
“The thing that was really disappointing to me was you realize it’s not just the rednecks that are racist. Looking around, some of the most racist people in the world are in the North. I still think Boston is one of the most racist cities in America.”
“People you consider to be intelligent have that blind spot. And that’s disappointing because we’re talking about America, the richest country in the world, and they’re not doing anything about it. That’s one of the reasons I’m over here.”
12.27.2008
Kiki
From the old book, the one that wasn’t published, not the current book, the one that was:
Marshall Case settled into his seat at Charlotte’s Halton Arena for the Davidson-UNCC game in December of 1997. A stranger approached him.
“You’re Marshall Case, aren’t you?” the man said. “You played for Davidson, right?”
Yes and yes, Case responded.
In 1971-72.
As a walk-on.
The Annandale, Virginia, native appeared in 19 games that year, primarily as a backup point guard. He scored a total of 33 points on five-for-15 shooting, hit 23 of 24 free throw attempts, passed for nine assists and got six rebounds. And this guy, a generation later, in UNCC’s arena, remembered.
“That’s what it was like,” said Case, who still lives and works in Davidson.
The Case case is perhaps an extreme example, but not the only example of Charlotte’s one-time infatuation with Davidson’s basketball team.
Case isn’t the only one.
Barry Teague gets it. If for no other reason than his steal against Duke’s Art Heyman. “I have people to this day come up and talk to me about that game,” Teague said.
And Wayne Huckel, a rough-and-tumble guard during the team’s two regional final appearances who now works on the 42nd floor of the Nations Bank corporate center in Charlotte, has been confronted by wide-eyed parents of his children’s friends. They want to meet Wayne Huckel. The Wayne Huckel.
Davidson basketball players were the Beatles of Mecklenburg County. Boys wrote asking for autographs or tips on basketball. Area junior high and high school girls, giggly and obsessed, sent doting fan mail and baked cakes, cookies and brownies.
For Ronnie Stone, a Class of 1966 reserve, there was a slew of letter-writing fans. But no one wrote more than Ann Margaret Summers.
“I have just about all the paper clippings of the Davidson ballgames,” the Statesville High junior wrote in a letter dated February 23, 1966. Enclosed was a stick of Juicy Fruit. “Some of my girlfriends went to see you play N.Y.U. I was planning to go but couldn’t. They got autographs from the players there. They brought me a program of the game. I cut out your picture and would like for you to autograph it for me. My friends and I decided to pick a player and write to him. I picked you. (Lucky you.) …
“All my friends call me ‘Kiki,’ so you can call me that, too.”
Marshall Case settled into his seat at Charlotte’s Halton Arena for the Davidson-UNCC game in December of 1997. A stranger approached him.
“You’re Marshall Case, aren’t you?” the man said. “You played for Davidson, right?”
Yes and yes, Case responded.
In 1971-72.
As a walk-on.
The Annandale, Virginia, native appeared in 19 games that year, primarily as a backup point guard. He scored a total of 33 points on five-for-15 shooting, hit 23 of 24 free throw attempts, passed for nine assists and got six rebounds. And this guy, a generation later, in UNCC’s arena, remembered.
“That’s what it was like,” said Case, who still lives and works in Davidson.
The Case case is perhaps an extreme example, but not the only example of Charlotte’s one-time infatuation with Davidson’s basketball team.
Case isn’t the only one.
Barry Teague gets it. If for no other reason than his steal against Duke’s Art Heyman. “I have people to this day come up and talk to me about that game,” Teague said.
And Wayne Huckel, a rough-and-tumble guard during the team’s two regional final appearances who now works on the 42nd floor of the Nations Bank corporate center in Charlotte, has been confronted by wide-eyed parents of his children’s friends. They want to meet Wayne Huckel. The Wayne Huckel.
Davidson basketball players were the Beatles of Mecklenburg County. Boys wrote asking for autographs or tips on basketball. Area junior high and high school girls, giggly and obsessed, sent doting fan mail and baked cakes, cookies and brownies.
For Ronnie Stone, a Class of 1966 reserve, there was a slew of letter-writing fans. But no one wrote more than Ann Margaret Summers.
“I have just about all the paper clippings of the Davidson ballgames,” the Statesville High junior wrote in a letter dated February 23, 1966. Enclosed was a stick of Juicy Fruit. “Some of my girlfriends went to see you play N.Y.U. I was planning to go but couldn’t. They got autographs from the players there. They brought me a program of the game. I cut out your picture and would like for you to autograph it for me. My friends and I decided to pick a player and write to him. I picked you. (Lucky you.) …
“All my friends call me ‘Kiki,’ so you can call me that, too.”
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