NOT REALLY INTERESTED
Almost every young man growing up in Indiana aspires to play for his high school's varsity basketball team. And most of the ones who were able will tell you that these were some of the best years of their lives. That wasn't the case with me. The reason for my lack of interest at the time probably had to do with the fact my mother had taken me with her to Detroit in 1944, when she went to work in the war effort. My heroes were Hank Greenberg, Hal Newhouser and a Hoosier named "Dizzy" Trout. They were some of the Detroit Tigers who won the 1945 World Series.
After the war, I returned to my hometown (Lebanon) as a fifth grader. There were three grade schools in town, and one in the country which I attended. The three city schools had basketball teams; mine didn't. But soon after school started, we learned we were to have one. My sports were softball and baseball. I didn't go out, but soon thereafter I was told I should, so I did. I can't remember too much about these two years other than we didn't win many games, Mr. Mitchell, our principal, was the coach. He was quite elderly and didn't seem to care much about winning. He would substitute regularly giving everyone a chance to play equal time. I remember one particular game, We lost by one point because one of our players made a basket for the other team. Surprisingly, by season's end I was starting to like the game.