Insignificant sideline personnel
Do you remember when Barry Switzer was in Dallas, and DFW columnist Randy Galloway stayed on Switzer’s back? Galloway called Switzer “Gunsmoke” after a gun was found in Switzer’s bag at airport security. But do you remember the other nickname Galloway penned for Switzer?
“ISP.” Insignificant Sideline Personnel.
I thought of that the other night during the Holiday Bowl when Mack Brown’s stepson, Chris Jesse, came on the field during play and either touched or didn’t touch the wayward ball tossed backwards by Arizona State Rudy Carpenter. What in the heck was Jesse doing on the sidelines?
College football sidelines are way too crowded. Way too populated with people who have no business being on the field. Look at the typical college sideline, then look at the typical NFL sideline. Unbelievable difference. The NFL polices sideline credentials. Limits them in a major way.
The same should be done in college. I remember a USC-UCLA game probably 34 years ago. Seems like it was 1973. A UCLA flanker, I think, caught a pass going out of bounds and ran into some guy standing on the sidelines. Knocked him down, of course. As the Bruin trotted back onto the field, the knucklehead on the sideline got up, ran at the UCLA player and pushed him in the back. Keith Jackson, in his glory days, immediately said something to the effect, “Schools need to do a better job of checking out who’s on the sidelines.”
Same goes today. But I feel a little kinship with Chris Jesse, and here’s why. Another story from 1973 or so. I was in seventh grade, and the Harlem Globetrotters came to the Myriad. Our basketball team went, and on the team was Bo Overton, who would go on to point guard for the Sooners and coach at OU and in the WNBA. Anyway, Bo’s father, Claudell Overton, knew everybody in basketball and got us great seats. One of the Trotter executives asked Claudell for a couple of ball boys, and he picked me and Bo. Eventually, they decided for some more racial balance and sent Bo back to his seat, leaving me alone under one basket as a ballboy for the Trotters.
The Trotters went into their baseball routine, one of their comedic gags. I was sitting in what could best be described as the third-base coaching box. Some Trotter did what he was supposed to do, hit a high bouncing ball over the infielders. Except he didn’t hit it quite high enough. The ball bounced over my head, but I leaped up and speared it. Players with less stage presence would have panicked, but here came Curly Neal, clapping his hands and asking for the ball. I threw it to him, and off he went to resume the gag.
But that day, I was ISP, and I had screwed up the proceedings. I was somewhere I didn’t belong and had thrust myself into the action, to the detriment of the ticket-buying public. At least I had an excuse. I was 12 years old. I don’t know what Chris Jesse’s excuse is.
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Sometime your stories bring back old memories. In the early fifties I/we belonged to the Police Athletic league (PAL) in Rochester, NY and we would play our games before the Rochester Royals played, then we could stay and watch the Royals play. I saw Miken, Wanzer, Davies, Cousy, etc. because of this. ( wish I had kept some of the memoribilia)In our league was a kid named Al Butler, who I also , played against in high school. He went on to pro basketball. There were a few more guys just as good as Al,(me, definetly not one of them) but for various reasons never made it to college or played on to a better league than high school.