High School Sports
Small spot out in the patch (Brggsdale) has a state champion basketball team, the first for the town. The girls basketball team.
I approve of high school sports and especially for girls. Back in the day (1961, 42 graduates) the only thing available for girls was band and cheerleading. In Ski Town, USA where I graduated, several female skiers became Olympic competitors but this was on their parent’s dime.
Small historical note. My Senior year we started with twelve cheerleaders and ended the year with three. The other nine got pregnant. The two drug stores in town wouldn’t sell condoms to teenagers. The only real source was vending machines in Wyoming.
Long before the trust fund snots discovered Steamboat, the high school had a gifted teacher and coach, Carl Ramano. A Korea War Marine, he coached wrestling and taught shop classes. In thirteen consecutive years, the school was six times state champions and seven times runners up. Wray, CO High School was always the other school.
I was a wrestler, 2nd string, but the attitude developed as a wrestler helped me in life and the skills learned in Coach Ramano’s shop classes I use to this day.
Comets
“Dad, can I open it up a little?”
“Not a good idea, son. There are better places”.
Sure enough, a few moments later the WSP clocked him ten miles over and we had a father/son moment as he got his first ticket.
Son’s Dodge Charger
Not his, but you get the idea.
My son dropped out of high school due to his life being in danger from out of control black students. Travis wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t defer, etc. The assistant superintendent, a retired Seattle Seahawk (and black) put the blame on my son. We had words and I was escorted from the school by the police.But, I digress. Travis, as a freshman, passed his GED tests with a 82% score. I put him to work as a lot man at the dealership where I worked and helped him buy a Chevy LUV pickup.
A customer traded in a Dodge Charger that he had been turning into a race car. The car looked bad but was sound. The rebuilt engine was from the premier MOPAR shop in Seattle. The suspension and brakes had been upgraded. Larger and better tires were fitted. The owner had given up and traded it in for an economy car. I wasn’t the salesman involved.
Travis came up to me with that “look” and said, Dad!”
I bought the car for $300. He drove it for five years, raised all kinds of hell in King County, and later in Colorado when he moved.
He was a gifted driver. When he was much younger we spent a weekend at Ocean Shores where there was a rental go cart track. He was too short at the time but, as it was a slow day, a $20 bill slipped to the attendant let him grow a couple of inches. He had never driven a go cart but within three laps he was drifting that under powered go cart around the corners and passing everyone.
Would Dr Jim approve?
I don’t trust banks and will only use credit unions. I have no need for other bank services. YMMV. Do your own due diligence. Below is an email from one of my credit unions.
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5 comments:
Small town teams were/are usually class acts. We've got a couple of them down here that are perennial class champs with multiple MVPs in both girls and boys sports. Those old Chargers would run like scalded dogs, but didn't stop or turn worth a crap! :-)
LSP commented on "High School Sports"
3 hours ago
Oh my, this post reminded me of having to take a stepdaughter out of school in Germantown, Philly. It was OFF. THE. HOOK.
Old NFO
You are correct about old Chargers. My rule for my son, until he turned 18 and got the title, was no money spent on speed, only brakes, tires and suspension. When he turned 18, the title was transferred and the carb restriction plate removed. That Charger would do 120 mph+.
LSP
All three of my son's were taught I wouldn't stand for them being bullies. Likewise, I would always stand behind them when they fought bullies. They were raised to be dirty white boys.
School administrators need to be reminded some parents won't put up with b.s.
I-65 in Southern Indiana. Me in my '68 Olds 442. He was in a Plymouth GTX.
My speedo went up to 120mph and then there was a space for the right turn signal. My spped indicator was East of that turn signal... 130 maybe?
That GTX was leaving me behind, so I took my foot off the pedal. A few miles later the red lights came on behind me. My dress uniform hung in the back window saved my butt... The warning was for "80" in a 70 zone. As the Trooper got ready to go back to his cruiser he asked,
"How bad did he beat ya?" ;)
Bias ply tires?
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