More Than Rivals

by Ken Abraham

  “And you’re telling them that isn’t true, right?”

  “Of course, I am. But even the king has to get off his high horse and mingle with the commoners once in a while. Come on, Eddie. Loosen up a little. It’s your senior year. It might be your last game ever. Enjoy it!”

  Eddie looked at the happy faces all around him. Most of the kids and adults in the restaurant weren’t rich; they were just everyday folks from Gallatin. Just like him. “Ya know, Bo, maybe you’re right. Come on, let’s grab a table.”

  “You grab. I’ll follow.”

  The Sherlin brothers moved deeper into the crowded restaurant. “Eddie! Hey, Eddie,” people called out.

  Eddie tried his best to smile and wave at every person who recognized him and even the few who didn’t. He lowered his head as the waitress came to the table. After all his success, in many ways, he was still a shy kid.

  28

  GAME DAY DAWNED BRIGHT and sunny in Gallatin. Knowing that it was going to be a long and exhausting day, Eddie tried to sleep in, but even before the sunshine peeked through the curtains in his bedroom, he was already imagining his favorite sound. Swish! Swish!

  He knew he might as well get up. Everyone else was still sleeping, so he went over to the school’s outdoor courts to shoot some baskets before breakfast.

  At the Ligon home, Anna peered into Bill and Tyree’s room. Tyree stirred, but Anna was shocked to find that Bill was not in his bed. Nor did it look as though it had been slept in the night before.

  “Tyree?” the boys’ mom called.

  “Huh?” Tyree answered, barely awake.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  “Dunno. He dropped me off after work last night and said he’d see me in the morning. Said not to worry, that he wanted to practice his sky hook shot. Ha, that’s funny, isn’t it? Practice a sky hook in the dark.”

  Anna was concerned. Her first inclination, however, was not to worry but to pray. A woman of great faith, Anna knelt beside the couch. “God, wherever Bill is, let your angels surround him and keep him safe. He’s belonged to you since he was a little boy and that hasn’t changed. Please watch out for him and bring him back home safely.” She also decided to make some calls when she was done praying. She lived by the adage that she taught her children: “You do what you can do, and God will do his part.”

  Bill was perfectly safe but not necessarily comfortable, as he had fallen asleep in the station wagon’s front seat. He began to rouse when he heard the sounds of children laughing outside the car. After opening his eyes a bit, he noticed several children pointing at him, clearly amused that he had been sleeping in the car along with a basketball on the other seat. Bill grabbed the ball and shuffled out of the vehicle. He put the ball between his legs and stretched his long arms high in the sky and then bent over and touched his toes, stretching his stiff muscles.

  He glanced around, remembering where he had parked—right outside the fence to the basketball court in the whites-only park—the one he and Eddie had once sneaked on and played basketball, nearly causing a bigoted man to go nuts; the one near the old house where he and his family used to live when he had first met Eddie and they played over at his cousin Ella Lee’s backyard court.

  Bill looked up and saw a couple of curious white kids staring at him from outside the fence, perhaps wondering what a Negro was doing on their court. Bill smiled at them and raised one finger to the sky, as if to say, “Watch this, kids!”

  Bill, still in his dress clothes, took several dribbles toward the basketball goal. He took a wider arc and sprinted the remaining distance to the hoop, leaving his feet just inside the free throw line, sailing through the air, and slamming the ball through the hoop.

  “All right!” the boys called out.

  Bill retrieved the ball, gathered his belongings, got back into the car, and drove home to get some sleep before the big game.

  It was a busy afternoon at the Sherlin home as everyone anticipated the evening ahead. Eddie took out his new leather Converse All Star shoes and packed them into his gym bag. He tossed in the other items he needed and retrieved his freshly pressed uniform bearing the large number 22 on the chest. It was almost time to go.

  “Hey, it’s my turn in the bathroom,” Debbie whined as she and Delilah fought for time in front of the mirror, bumping each other out of the way as they excitedly combed their hair and applied makeup, wanting to look just right.

  Jim and Betty helped Bo into the car. The entire family was excited about getting to the Springfield gymnasium early so they could get good seats.

  Across town, Anna Ligon called out the back door to Tyree, who was shooting baskets in the backyard. “Come on, Tyree. Time to get ready. We don’t want to be late.”

  “Okay, Mom. One more shot.” Tyree tossed up a sky hook shot of his own. Swish! He threw his hands in the air. Yes! That’s a good sign, he thought before hurrying inside.

  Anna and Delores waited patiently as the boys did their final primping, Bill being especially careful to get his Afro fluffed. He dressed in his Sunday best and checked his uniform twice just to make sure he had everything he needed. If a Negro player forgot an item, he couldn’t stop along the way to purchase it. It was unacceptable for a Negro to run into a grocery store or even a gas station operated exclusively for whites. Whatever he needed, Bill had to take with him. Finally, he stepped into the living room carrying his gym bag. “I’m ready,” he announced.

  Out on the Bonner tobacco farm, Roy Jackson scattered some grain for the chickens before joining his grandfather. “Come on, Grandpa,” he said as he helped the older Jackson into Mr. Bonner’s car. Mr. Bonner had offered to drive Roy to the school to catch the Union team bus and then take his grandfather all the way to Springfield.

  “We sure appreciate your kindness, Mr. Bonner,” Grandfather Jackson said as Roy got into the backseat.

  “My pleasure, Mr. Jackson. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on Roy’s biggest game.”

  At the Hamilton home, a group of gorgeous race horses trotted away from the white fences lining the lane as Missy, dressed in her cheerleader uniform, and her parents rode down the long gravel driveway in Charles Hamilton’s favorite automobile—a vintage Cadillac he drove only on special occasions. “This is certainly one of those times that merits a special ride,” he said. It may have occurred to Charles that the heavy old car might provide a safer, stronger, more secure vehicle if things turned ugly at the game.

  The Herron family had already had a challenging day. Susan Herron was convinced that it was unsafe for Peggy Sue to attend the championship game. Fully aware of the tension surrounding the mandatory integration policies, the moment Susan learned that Gallatin would face Union, she fretted that the game could easily turn into a riot. The cross-burning on her front yard had pushed her over the edge. The day of the game, she admitted her fears to her daughter. “Peggy Sue, as much as I want you to show your school spirit, it simply is not safe for you to attend the game tonight.”

  “Mother! You can’t be serious! This is the biggest game of my life. And it may be Eddie Sherlin’s last game. It is sure to be the greatest game in Gallatin history! How can I not be there?”

  “I understand all that, but it is simply too dangerous—with your father’s position and the animosity in town right now. Perhaps another time.”

  “Mother! There will never be another time like this, ever again!”

  “Peggy Sue, your father and I have discussed it. We are concerned for your safety. I know you don’t understand right now, but hopefully someday you will appreciate our desire to protect you.”

  “I understand that you are ruining my life!” Peggy Sue objected as she ran out of the living room and sealed herself in her bedroom.

  “She’s a smart girl,” Susan said to her husband. “She will figure it all out sooner or later.”

  Peggy Sue remained in her room throughout the day, regardless of her parents’ efforts to coax her out.

  When it came ti
me to leave for the game, Principal Herron knocked on Peggy Sue’s bedroom door. “Peggy Sue. Sweetheart, we are leaving. Don’t worry. You’ll get to go to many other games before you graduate.”

  “I made up a plate of food for your supper,” Susan added. “It’s in the refrigerator. Now, no more pouting, Peggy Sue.” She turned the knob on Peggy Sue’s door. “Peggy Sue?” Susan pushed the bedroom door open and looked inside, her husband right behind her.

  “Peggy Sue!” Susan shouted.

  They stepped inside the bedroom. Peggy Sue was gone.

  At Union and Gallatin high schools, the bus drivers pulled up their vehicles to the front of the schools where large crowds of students were waiting. Sixty-six passengers loaded onto each bus, filling every seat.

  The players, coaches, and cheerleaders had already climbed aboard their respective buses. The cheerleaders chattered with excitement, but the ballplayers and coaches were subdued, lost in thought, already playing the game in their minds.

  Most people in town were getting into their vehicles to head toward Springfield, but many neighbors and fans remained on the streets to send the teams off with cheers. Some of the older neighbors who couldn’t attend the game sat or stood out on their front porches to wave at the team as the buses rumbled by. A number of young boys ran down the sidewalks, trying to keep up with the buses, waving and calling out encouragement to their favorite players as the team rolled past.

  While his bus passed the Negro barbershop, Bill noticed the group of elderly men climbing into an old car in front of the shop. The barber and his friends paused to wave at the Union bus as it whooshed by.

  As the Green Wave team bus rolled through the town square, people cheered as though the players were celebrities in a parade. Shop owners stood outside their front doors and waved. Others were busy hanging CLOSED signs on the windows and locking up the stores. They paused long enough to wave at the passing buses and then loaded up their cars and headed to Springfield.

  Four police patrol cars were lined up in front of the courthouse. Chief Braden had put every officer on the Gallatin police force on alert. Nobody had tonight off, unless they had a personal emergency to handle. Every patrolman was in place, either in town or surrounding the Springfield gymnasium in cooperation with the local authorities. When the last school bus passed through downtown, the four police cars, loaded with armed patrolmen, followed closely behind.

  As the buses approached Springfield, state police troopers pulled out ahead of them, escorting the buses into town. People in the little town of Springfield had never seen so many police officers.

  The team buses rolled to a stop at the back of the school near the locker room entrance where several somber and heavily armed police officers guarded the doors.

  Almost simultaneously, Bill and Eddie stepped down off their respective buses. Both boys stood for a moment before entering the school, the stoic expressions on their faces belying their excitement and anxiety.

  This was the game the two friends had thought about, dreamed about, prayed about. It was time to play ball.

  29

  IN FRONT OF SPRINGFIELD HIGH SCHOOL, a mass of spectators unloaded from various buses. Since both teams were from Gallatin, the buses had arrived almost at the same time, setting up a swarm of people converging on the ticket booths. The throng of people—comprised of both blacks and whites—standing in lines and all hyped over the game, set up stressful and dangerous pregame confrontations. People pushed and shoved, trying to get into the gym, vying for a good seat. Several faculty and administrators from both schools stood outside the doors, attempting in vain to calm the crowd. Police officers stood by, watching for any trouble and urging people to stay in lines. Despite the best efforts to maintain order, the crowd surged ahead.

  “Hold on, there! Stop your pushing,” the doorman shouted. “Back off, or we will close the doors and nobody will get in!”

  Al and Jesse were already set up inside the gym doing their pregame show from the scorekeeper’s desk behind the center-court railing. “There is an overflow crowd here in the Springfield gym tonight,” Al said, “to see who goes home with the championship trophy.”

  “It’s unbelievable,” Jesse agreed. “The people just keep pouring in! If you’re thinking about coming to the game, let me give you some advice: stay home. There is no more room in the inn. Pull up a chair and listen to all the action right here on Gallatin’s WHIN radio.”

  The radio guys were right. The gym was packed. But unlike last week’s semifinal contests, tonight’s crowd was divided, black people on one side of the gym and whites on the other. The pre-championship game was a girls’ basketball game, so more white women than usual comprised the crowd. Sitting on the girls’ bench was Patricia Head, a young woman who would soon make basketball history herself. Trish, as she was known in high school, excelled as a player. Then later, after she married and became the head coach of the Tennessee Lady Volunteers, the world would know her as Pat Summitt, the coach who won eight national championships and had more NCAA basketball victories than any other coach—male or female—in history.

  The cheerleaders from Union and Gallatin were busy practicing their routines before tip-off. Teachers, parents, and spectators filled the stands to capacity. Anna Ligon sat with Tyree on one of the lower bleacher seats. Roy Jackson’s grandfather and Mr. Bonner slid into their seats on the Union side, just a row up from Charlene and Martha, the two girls who had been wooing Bill’s affections. With neither of them able to capture his heart, the two girls became friends and were now cheering for Bill and his teammates right alongside each other. The old men from the barbershop sat together in the center section of the bleachers. Along the top rows in the middle on the Union side sat the group of Vietnam veterans, who stared menacingly across the court at the predominantly white crowd supporting the Green Wave.

  Even Bishop Lula Mae Swanson and several elders from the Original Church of God were there. Bishop Swanson sat demurely, impeccably dressed as always in a blue business suit, on the corner seat closest to the exit.

  On the Gallatin High side of the court, the Green Wave cheerleaders greeted various people in the crowd. The Sherlin family sat in their usual spot, on the end of the front row, so Bo could position his wheelchair nearby. Buddy Bruce found a seat three rows up the bleachers with several of the football players. He always sat close so he could get to the court in a hurry if a problem came up.

  Charles Hamilton Sr. and his wife sat in the heart of the Gallatin crowd, waving at Missy every time she looked in their direction. It was almost as if the Hamiltons were oblivious to the basketball game. They acted as though the entire evening centered around their daughter.

  Eddie’s neighbors were there, as was Dan Savage, the pawn shop owner; Mr. White, the barber; Mr. Long, the sports equipment store owner; and many of the Sherlins’ friends from First Assembly of God church. Even some of the bruised Springfield boys who fought with Buddy and Eddie and their Gallatin friends were sitting in the back rows on the bleachers. Nobody wanted to miss this game.

  Principal Herron, in collaboration with Principal Malone on the Union side, stood on the Gallatin sidelines, scanning the crowd for possible problems. As the principal observed the Gallatin supporters, a familiar face caught his attention. Sure enough, it was his daughter, Peggy Sue, sitting with her girlfriends. They were already cheering and laughing and encouraging the team, even though the Green Wave players were still in the locker room. Just then, Peggy Sue turned her head in her father’s direction. Her smile disappeared, and she leaned back as far into the crowd as possible to avoid her father’s glowering gaze.

  Principal Herron felt a mix of emotions wash over him. He was relieved that Peggy Sue was okay, but he was furious that she had disobeyed. He made a mental note to deal with Peggy Sue later.

  More than a dozen armed police officers, some in uniform and some in street clothes, stood around the perimeter of the gymnasium, purposely making themselves obvious to all spectato
rs. The message displayed by the strong police presence was clear: don’t start anything.

  The deafening commotion of the crowd in the gymnasium made normal conversation almost impossible. But down in the Gallatin locker room, only the echoes from the gym above could be heard. The tone was low-key, and the team was surprisingly calm. Coach Vradenburg moved among the players, quietly offering final words of encouragement, checking on injuries, and making sure everyone was ready. There was no need for a big speech. Everything the coach needed to say, he had been saying all week long. Coach Vradenburg took his place near the door, awaiting the signal to head up to the gym.

  In the Union locker room, the same noise from upstairs filtered in, especially when someone opened the door, and for the most part, the team members were quiet. Each player sat on the bench, going through his pregame routine. Joe tied and untied his shoelaces half a dozen times, making sure the knots were hidden under the tongues of the shoes. Roy leaned back against a locker and yawned, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Coach Martin paced, occasionally pausing long enough to quietly voice a word of praise or advice about a point in their game plan.

  Bill felt nervous, but he portrayed confidence to his coaches and teammates as he sat deep in thought on the bench nearest the door. He was ready to play.

  With the girls’ basketball game concluded and the floor cleared and swept, two policemen received the signal from the referee. One officer went to the Union locker room, the other went to Gallatin’s. The officers opened the respective doors, and both men said the same thing: “It’s time.”

  Eddie jumped to his feet.

  In the Union locker room, Bill did the same.

  The coaches led their teams out of the locker rooms into a poorly lit hallway that passed in front of the snack bar and up a short staircase to the basketball court. The police in the hallway cleared a path so the teams could pass by the customers at the snack bar without being badgered. Nobody bothered the players, but fans from each team called out words of encouragement to their favorites. As the teams filed out of the locker rooms, the Green Wave players, dressed in white uniforms decked out with green trim, and the Union Devils players, in dark red uniforms trimmed in black, caught their first glimpses of one another. Most of the boys tried to look straight ahead, all except Roy Jackson, who spotted Alton, the tall Gallatin center. Roy shot him a devious smile. Alton returned a quick, irritated look at Roy and then kept his eyes straight ahead.