It was a giant magnet that sucked me in as though I were a tiny iron filing.  It was a day late in August of my freshman year in high school.  Boys were gathered at the school where I joined them.  That giant magnet was football practice and I wanted to be one of the Pineville Mountain Lions team one day. 

“Go on in and get suited up,” I was instructed, and I went in and got a nearly worn out suit, the kind reserved for scrubs.  On the field we spent the first days toughening up with running and various exercises.  It was not long before we were doing contact work, blocking, tackling and all sorts of things that make the body ache and want to never move again. 

Coach Grabuck and assistant Coach Shively were good coaches and good leaders.  Grabuck’s motto was “a team that won’t be beat can’t be beat,” and its corollary “the best defense is a good offence.”  They insisted that training rules be kept or players sit out the game on the bench. 

Coach arranged a game for us scrubs with another school.  I guess they couldn’t afford a bus so they loaded us into a truck and by the time we got to the place where we were to play, most of us were a little sick from breathing stinky exhaust fumes.  I don’t remember how the game went. 

I played in my first varsity game the next year, 1936.  Our first game of the season was a warm-up game for a big high school, Manual High of Louisville.  Coach Grabuck did not consider it a warm-up game and told the team so.  There was room in the bus for only the players who might play in the game.  Coach said that any of us who could get there on his own could sit with the team during the game.  Our uniforms could ride the bus and be there waiting for us.  I decided to go on the train.  It was an all night ride including a four hour layover in Corbin in the middle of the night. Someone saw to it that I got to the football field on time for the game. 

In the locker room before the game Coach was upbeat and optimistic.  His last instructions were to the team captain.  “The wind is brisk and blowing down the field.  If you win the toss choose to defend the goal with the wind to your back.”  With that the team took the field to warm up for the game. 

What we saw next was awesome.  A tidal wave spilled on to the field.  However, instead of water it was made up of huge football players. There must have been 60 of them.  They made our guys look like an underfed bunch.  The captains were soon called out for the coin toss.  We won the toss.  Coach looked pleased.  Then the teams lined up for the kickoff.  The Lions were to receive with the wind in their faces.  “I’ll be damned!” Coach said, “There goes this game.” 

At the kickoff the ball, aided by the wind, became a big bird and soared high over the heads of all the Pineville players then dived for its prey, realized it was not really a bird, and rolled into the end zone.  There was a mad scramble for the ball and Manual recovered it for a touchdown.  The score after one play was Manual six, Pineville zero. 

The afternoon was a long one for the Mountain Lions for they fared no better for the rest of the game.  With five minutes to play the score was 54-0, and the Manual coach sent his scrubs into the game.  “By golly,” Coach said “if they can send their scrubs in, so can I,” He called all the boys who hadn’t been in the game and sent us in.  Our team had the ball and managed to push toward the goal line.  As the game ended we had the ball on the five yard line.  I believe that if we’d had time for another play or two we would have scored and avoided the skunk. The team went on to recover from the humiliation of defeat and finish the season with a decent record.   A reason may have been that the team captain paid attention to Coach’s instructions.  

The year 1937 was the year that I had finally grown enough to fill a starting position of tackle on the team.  That year we won nine of ten games.  That was good enough to earn us the Cumberland Valley Conference championship. 

 The next year 1938 started as a banner year.  Most of the first team players from the last year were back and played the game well. My football career ended prematurely in 1938, however.  Before mid-season we were in a game with our most formidable opponent, Corbin.  Our team led 6-0 in the third quarter.  Corbin had the ball and was running a play to my left.  I had broken through the line and headed for the ball carrier.  McInturf our left end headed for him from his position.  We both hit the ball carrier at the same instant.  Momentum swung us tacklers together.  McInturf’s heel collided with my left shin bone.  The impact was more than the bone could withstand and I spent the rest of the season recuperating while the team went on to an undefeated season and a second championship despite the loss of their star tackle.