It was 50 years ago this Saturday.
I fell in love—again.
By the age of 11, I had turned into a KFAB Radio (of Omaha) junkie, I usually listened to 1110 AM each night while doing my homework. I was introduced to another KFAB feature the evening of Saturday, Jan. 30, 1971—University of Nebraska basketball. I was craving tunes by the Lettermen, Sinatra, and Pete Fountain, and instead I heard the familiar voice of Jack Payne. At first, I thought KFAB might be replaying a football game, because Jack kept talking about field goal percentages. However, since he wasn’t mentioning Cornhusker kicker Paul Rogers by name, and the names Jack was announcing were unknown to me, I assumed it had to be another sport. A few minutes later, it became clear he was announcing a basketball game, and when I learned it was a Nebraska game, I immediately grabbed a pencil and paper and began keeping track of the running score. As the next 90 minutes rolled by, I became acquainted with Cornhusker cagers Marvin Stewart, Leroy Chalk, Chuck Jura, Al Nissen, Tony Riehl, Mike Peterson, and Coach Joe Cipriano. Jack Payne was as gifted at announcing basketball games as Lyell Bremser was talented at broadcasting football games. Since most of the NU basketball games were played at night, I usually listened to the broadcasts while in the privacy of my bedroom. Listening to Jack describe a home Nebraska basketball game was especially entertaining. Jack would vividly describe the Coliseum crowd as it would belittle, beleaguer, harass, and torment the opposing players. Payne would also refer to the animations of Cornhusker Head Basketball Coach Joe Cipriano, one of the most colorful men to ever coach in the Big 8 Conference.
The Cornhuskers blew away Oklahoma State, 80-59, and thus began my affection for Jack Payne and his descriptions of Cornhusker basketball, the NU Coliseum and opponents’ venues. “We’re at Brewer Fieldhouse on the campus of the University of Missouri,” or “We greet you from Balch Fieldhouse in Boulder, Colorado,” or, “We’re in Soonerland tonight, hello from the OU Basketball Fieldhouse in Norman,” or, “For the first time ever, we greet you from the Hilton Coliseum in Ames, a beautiful replacement for Iowa State basketball’s aging Armory,” surged from my radio’s speaker. Jack also painted vivid pictures of other Cornhusker enemy courts, such as: KSU’s Ahearn Fieldhouse in Manhattan, Kansas; KU’s Allen Fieldhouse in nearby Lawrence; Oklahoma State’s Gallagher Hall in Stillwater; as well as the Municipal Auditorium in downtown Kansas City, Missouri, the home of the annual Big 8 Holiday Basketball Tournament held each year during the last week of December.
As the excitement of my newfound love of Cornhusker basketball began to fade, the reality of school and chores took over. My sixth-grade class began to spend more time studying and discussing the Vietnam War. While some days I found the conversations enlightening, other days I tuned out the chatter. My hard- nosed teacher, Mrs. Emily Millward, observed me in one of my daydreaming trances one afternoon, and she called on me to voice my opinion about some military official who had come under scrutiny. I responded that I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. My snotty response led to her usual dressing-me-down in front of the whole class. Mrs. Millward lectured me on the importance of keeping up to date on current events and issues, both local and abroad, and that someday, my life may totally revolve around them. I never believed Mrs. Millward was the offspring of some Gypsy Fortune Teller or Nostradamus, but her advice certainly proved to be prophetic.
Here’s the only nugget of wisdom I can offer today’s teachers: keep planting those seeds. Eventually they’ll sprout, grow, produce, and fall in love—again and again.