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I’m headed to Stillwater today to do something I’ve never done before. Cover an OSU baseball regional at Reynolds Stadium.

When the Cowboys were riding high and annually (almost) hosting a regional, I was covering OU baseball in the spring. In the ’90s, when I joined the Oklahoman, the Cowboys sort of got out of the business of hosting. I went to Lubbock in 1996 and covered OSU in that regional, and the Cowboys zoomed to Omaha, in Gary Ward’s last year, with victories over USC (twice), Fresno State and Arkansas.

But OSU hasn’t hosted since 1997, and I was at the Women’s College World Series instead.

I’m looking forward to Reynolds Stadium. In the old days, it always rocked for Bedlam or a big conference series. Should be rocking tonight, when OSU hosts Western Kentucky as the Cowboys begin the road to the College World Series.

Baseball once was huge in Stillwater but that status has slipped a little. Not a lot, but a little. Crowds are down since the Ward days. Titles are fewer. That could be changing under Frank Anderson, and success in the regional is a good start.

My ankles hurt. My feet hurt. My arms hurt. My back hurts. My head really hurts. Man, I love the game of basketball. 

I came out of retirement Wednesday night. I hadn’t played hoops in at least five years, and maybe it was longer. Since I played real basketball, and not just some outdoor lunch games, it’s probably been 8-10 years.

But the guys in the office finally coaxed me out. I sat down on the bleachers at Southwestern Christian University and started analyzing just what I had gotten myself into. Darnell Mayberry’s cousin came; I didn’t know how old Steffon was. I asked. He’s 29. I knew everybody else’s age. Nobody was over 30. Nobody except me.

Uh-oh.

Basketball once was a game I played every day of my life. That’s when gas was 60 cents a gallon. Even into my 30s, I was playing once a week with some pals, most in their 30s and 40s. When a 20something showed up, we pulled rank and told him how he had to play, and if he dared exert too much energy, we stuffed him in a trash can and kept playing our way.

But this was a bizarro world. I was the outsider. I was the 47-year-old who was bringing different ways to the court. I was the guy who arrived with two goals. Go home with my teeth intact and go home with my heart still working properly.  

Mission accomplished. But that 35-minute drive home seemed longer than the Kansas Turnpike.  

We played about two hours of fullcourt, and with 12 players, I got a little rest. I had a great time, truth be told, even if I did play with a bunch of whippersnappers, and I remembered what a great game basketball is to play.

You can play it by trying to jump out of the gym and flying through the lane for circus shots and running the ball upcourt like Steve Nash looking for Boris Diaw. Or you can play it Vlade Divac-style, which is my method. Never let your feet leave the floor. I have no idea how bad I would feel this morning if I had actually jumped a couple of times.

Basketball at my age is a little like golf at any age. You play the whole round just for the satisfaction of sinking a couple of putts or hitting one good drive or lofting a pitch over the bunker and onto the green, and if you don’t lose too many balls, it’s a successful round. You play a whole night of basketball just to make a couple of nifty passes or sink a left-handed shot, and if you don’t break any bones, it’s worth your time.

My head was exploding after about 10 minutes, but my jug of water saved me, just like in the old days. Everytime I shot a normal, I pulled arm and shoulder muscles that had sat dormant since the Carter Administration. I ran the court on offense maybe four times all night, but I got back on defense, remembering the voices of coaches long since gone.

I kept looking for more of the 40ish crowd. Rohde or Sherman or Baldwin or Helsley. They were too sharp for that. It was just me and the boys from Brazil. But I had a good time. It was great to be back on a basketball court. They say that which doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger. I’ll soon know which way it fell for me.

A familiar face returned to Norman on Tuesday. Chuck Fairbanks. The old coach was back in town for Jack Mildren’s funeral, still looking much the same, just aged, as he did 36 years ago when he was the Oklahoma football coach.

Fairbanks turns 75 in two weeks and now splits his time between Scottsdale, Ariz., and northern Michigan, his home state. He still has a daughter who lives in Norman but says he doesn’t make it back to Oklahoma much.

Fairbanks in many ways is the forgotten coach of Sooner football. He doesn’t rank with Bennie Owen, Bud Wilkinson, Barry Switzer or Bob Stoops. But Fairbanks left on top; his final two seasons, OU was a combined 22-2, and overall Fairbanks was 52-15-1 in six seasons.

Yet we know very little about Fairbanks. Maybe we did back then, but I doubt it. Fairbanks seems to be a very private man. Not unpleasant. Just private. The anti-Switzer, who never met a stranger. I chatted with Fairbanks a couple of years ago in San Antonio, during Dallas Cowboys training camp when Fairbanks helped out Bill Parcells as a consultant. Yesterday, after the funeral, I told Fairbanks I wanted to call him soon and talk about some old days. He seemed neither thrilled nor worried.

Fairbanks spoke at Mildren’s funeral, joining Mildren’s two brothers and Mildren’s former business partner. Fairbanks is no ball of fire as a public speaker; Steve Owens once told me a story of how Fairbanks picked him up for a trip to Tulsa, just the two of them, and Fairbanks didn’t say a word until they reached Sapulpa.

But it was interesting to hear Fairbanks speak again. Anyone who watched the old Thursday night OU coach’s show — it was a Channel 4 staple for many years — remembered the same voice tone.

Some wondered why Switzer didn’t speak, but the Mildren family probably made the right decision. Switzer would have been great, and Switzer knew Mildren much more than did Fairbanks, both back in Mildren’s playing days and since. But Mildren’s service largely was solemn; a few funny moments, particularly from his brother Richard, but mostly heartwarming. Very good feel to the service. Switzer would have told stories of Mildren that would have delighted the crowd and conjured warm memories, but Switzer isn’t exactly solemn. You don’t always know what you’re getting, which is great for television or sitting around the campfire to drives to Tulsa, but not always what you want in a funeral.

Instead, we heard from Fairbanks, and that was good. I hope he comes back more often.

Jack Mildren’s death dominated the emails the last several days, with many very good points.

Jeff wrote, “Very good stuff on Jack Mildren. Not sure he was the greatest, but he certainly was the most important. Also, as a grade schooler or a middle aged fan, was there anybody cooler than Diamond Jack Mildren? Tough, smart and on the cutting edge. If only he would have been asked to pass more on 11/25/71.”

Here’s what’s crazy about Mildren’s 1971 season. Jason White won the 2003 Heisman with crazy-good numbers; 40 touchdown passes and 10 interceptions, on 451 passes. That’s a TD every 11 passes or so. Mildren had 10 TD throws and two interceptions — on 68 passes. That’s a TD every 6.8 passes. Amazing.

Jeff wrote, “In honor of our Oklahoma football legend and one of our favorite adopted citizens, the management of WKY 930 should, from now through the end of June, change the stage name from JOX 930 to JAX 930. I think it would be a fitting tribute and a popular decision.”

Interesting idea. But I’ve got to tell you, I thought the Sports Animal’s all-day tribute on Friday was way too maudlin. Jack Mildren’s life warrants Boomer Sooner or Stars & Stripes Forever, not something befitting CBS’ over-the-top Masters coverage.

Another Jeff read my blog ranking OU quarterbacks and has another cause. “Love the fact that you included Jack Mitchell! Wish (they) would induct him in the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame. Still holds two NCAA records. Great QB. Recruited Barry Switzer to Arkansas and Gale Sayers to Kansas. Incidentally, how many OU players hold NCAA records? Jack Mitchell and maybe Antonio Perkins?

Bud Wllkinson’s first quarterback certainly deserves consideration, but I would say the biggest problem with the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame is too many OU football players inducted.

Gerald chimed in, “All I can say about Mildren was that he started me on the way to becoming a Sooner fan. For a kid from western Nebraska, I figure that is enough. I just regret that he is one Sooner great that I never got to meet.”

Amazing how much respect remains from Sooners and Cornhuskers of the 1970s era. I don’t see the same thing in any current OU series. Talking about it and living up to it are two different things.

Sam wrote, “I appreciated your comments about Jack Mildren — he was both young and old. I have an impressionistic fragment to share, in which Mildren figures as a typical viewer — of my artwork. About 12 ago I displayed some stippled ink drawings at an outdoor sale in Nichols Hills Plaza. Most artists, especially ink artists, tend to draw a single image with some peripheral decoration or a few internal accents. But I like to draw a scene, not an emblem. I also like to think that my scenes are self-explanatory, even though experience has taught me that many people are confounded by them and are offended when I don’t clarify the confusion by answering their questions, something I try not to do. Well, here comes Jack Mildren. I recognized him right away. Having been lieutenant governor had kept him and the aging process in the papers, but I could still see the youthful player underneath. He looked at the picture in the center of my display. His brow furrowed, his lip twitched, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clinched, he gave me a sharp look and walked away. There was something in the picture that wasn’t right. About five minutes later, here he comes again. He turned his head slightly to the right, then slightly to the right, then he gave a small smile and gently raised his head as if to acknowledge something — maybe he saw that Notre Dame cathedral and a three-room cottage belong together, after all. He looked at me and nodded and walked away again. To me, that provides the best example of people interested in my art. At first they are put off, but the intelligent or courageous ones come back and suddenly they get it. So, to me, it’s not my art that’s particularly revealing or profound, it’s their own diligence that sets them free from the restraints of conventionality. He was old, but willing to play young.”

Now you know why Jack Mildren was the renaissance man. Athlete. Oil man. Politician. Banker. Radio host. And finally, art critic.

Nick on Mildren, “Thank you for finally saying out loud what all of us who have watched OU all our lives already knew: that Jack Mildren was the greatest and most important quarterback in OU history. However, you still don’t go quite far enough. Not only did he change OU football forever, he changed college football forever. Because of what he accomplished in his senior year, 1971, the entire landscape of college football was transformed. Within five years, more Division I teams ran the wishbone than any other offense. But even more than that, option football was given a solid role in the college game that many teams still employ today and this is growing again in increasing numbers. If Jack and the wishbone had failed in 1971, none of this would have developed like it did and still is developing. I really wish you would take it upon yourself to see to it that Jack finally gets the recognition he is entitled to, the College Football Hall of Fame and special recognition at OU.”

Well, OU already honored Mildren, last November, an prescient move by athletic director Joe Castiglione. As for the College Football Hall of Fame, sorry, I can’t get worked up about it one way or the other. When a Hall of Fame has more than 1,000 members, how can it be relevant? I’m not criticizing anybody or questioning anyone’s inclusion (although I certain could). But I just can’t find any passion for something so large that tries to cover so much ground. There’s just too much there to get your arms around. As for Mildren changing college football, maybe. I’m not convinced. OU, no doubt. But option football already was raging across the college gridiron. Heck, OU was running the option before it switched to the wishbone. The Houston veer is an option offense. And yes, Alabama switched to the ‘bone because OU did. But OU switched because Texas did. No doubt all kinds of teams used it going down the root of Texas-Oklahoma-Alabama. Take one school out of the mix, and I don’t think the wishbone withers.

Chuck wrote, “You finally did it. You wrote a column I agree with 100 percent. Jack Mildren was not only OU’s best quarterback, but in my opinion, the best option quarterback to play the college game. He was also a good man!”

Thanks for the compliment. I think.

Joe wrote that Mildren “was a class guy. In my mind, he will go down as one of the top two or three wishbone QBs of all time, and there were some good ones. OU, Texas, Alabama and the Air Force Academy were the real serious wishbone teams of that era, and they all had some great ones, but Mildren was at or near the top. He was brilliant in the Nebraska game that many call the Game of the Century.”

Well, that’s just one heck of a letter, because it made me think of the greatest wishbone quarterbacks. Wishbone, not option. So no Turner Gill or Tommie Frazier. I was going to rank them, then I discovered I had no real pool from which to pick. To me, it’s Jack Mildren and Nolan Cromwell 1-2 or 2-1, and then who knows? Texas’ best optioneer? James Street, I suppose. One reason for the Longhorns’ gradual slide after 1969 was lack of a star quarterback. Alabama’s greatest wishbone QB? Steadman Sheely? What about the Air Force guys? UCLA’s Mark Harmon? I just don’t know. But I know this. At the top is either Mildren or Nolan Cromwell.

And the week wouldn’t be complete without some politicking for a name for the NBA team. Don wrote, “A buddy and I have come up with a perfect name for the OKC basketball team. What do you think about the Oklahoma City Spirit? Colors red, white and blue. A transparent American flag with a background containing a thunderbird, an oil derrick, a plow, a spacecraft and a peace pipe. An action figure of a basketball player dribbling the ball, superimposed on the flag. The cheerleaders would be the Spirit Squad, and their gimmick would be a hair ribbon of the team uniform. Have a spirit box for each home game, recognizing four individuals with passes to the game for their spirit in promoting OKC. Firemen, policemen, servicemen, the possibilities are endless. We would like to present our idea to the owners and exchange the rights to the name for season tickets. What do you think?

I think you’d better start saving up for tickets to a team that will be called something other than Spirit.

Also, we have to hear from the proverbial Seattle fans. Pete wrote, “I’m a 17-year-old high school junior living in Seattle. I’ve watched this team all of my life and would like to think that I’m somewhat knowledgeable when it comes to the Sonics issue. I’m not writing this letter to you to complain about how you guys are stealing our team. OKC deserves an NBA team, and the city proved that with the Hornets. But can you honestly tell me that it is morally correct for a team with four decades of history in a city to be ripped from their roots? Your ‘shed no tears’ for Seattle catastrophe upset me quite a bit. The problem with Clay and his group is that they haven’t taken into consideration the fans of Seattle at all. That has to be reassuring knowing that he could do something just as evil in OKC. Without a doubt, this is a business transaction, and you clearly pointed that out, however I just don’t see how one could feel no guilt rooting for a team that belongs in Seattle. You can call ‘em the Barons and wear black and gold, but they’re still the Sonics. We sat through the 50- and 60- point loss seasons to get Durant and now the No. 4 pick. What is so hard about granting OKC an expansion team and keeping the Supes in Seattle? That is how King Stern should rule this one.”

Sometimes I actually feel for Seattle fans seemingly about to lose their team. Then someone trots out a term like “morally correct” and I lose all empathy. And for the record, I still support Thunderbirds.

OU’s baseball team made the NCAA Tournament, and no one in crimson — literally; not one person — thought it possible. Baseball coaches are just like basketball coaches. They politic for their team’s inclusion and they list all the reasons why they should be in the 64-team field and they never publicly give up hope.

But Sunny Golloway, who in years past has shown himself quite capable of making a pitch for his on-the-outside-looking-in Sooners, didn’t even put up an argument before the NCAA selection announcement. Golloway said what everyone else believed. That OU had to win the Big 12 Tournament to make the field.

You wonder if anyone in crimson even was watching when the final four-team regional was revealed, and there was OU, a No. 3 seed sent to Tempe, Ariz., to play Vanderbilt.

Amazing. A team that finished 34-24-1 and in eighth place in the 10-team Big 12 was placed in the field. ESPN analysts made a big deal of defending NCAA champ Oregon State’s exclusion, and when you compare the Beavers to the Sooners, well, there’s really no comparison. Oregon State won series from Arizona, Arizona State and Georgia; all three are among the national top eight seeds. OU’s best series wins? Baylor, Kansas State and Texas Tech. None made the NCAA field.

Barely a week ago, OU seemed destined to not even make the Big 12 Tournament field. The Sooners made it only by beating OSU on the final Sunday of the regular season AND with Kansas State rallying to beat Kansas. Then OU beat Texas A&M and Missouri in the Big 12 Tournament and almost beat Texas in the game that determined a Big 12 finalist.

But no one believed OU had done enough to get in the NCAAs. Which makes you wonder what the NCAA committee saw. OU’s strength of schedule was decent, and it had some quality non-conference wins.

But what is there’s another answer. What if the committee just doesn’t know any better? I’m serious. The NCAA basketball selections are made under a mighty glare. If the committee screws up, everybody knows it. But who knows enough about college baseball to claim expert status? Should be, just the committee.

And that’s what makes me wonder about the inclusion of the Sooners. We don’t know who belongs in the NCAA Tournament. But people here in Oklahoma know who DOESN’T belong. OU. The Sooners were not a good team. They placed eighth in the 10-team Big 12 and were a lot closer to ninth than to seventh.

The Sooners themselves knew they didn’t belong. The committee thought otherwise. Maybe it’s the committee that doesn’t have a clue.

Here’s the great thing about Barry Switzer. Everytime you talk with him, you hear new stories you’ve never heard before.

Saturday morning, I called Switzer, and he said he was getting dressed to go pick up Steve Owens and go to the funeral home where Jack Mildren’s body lay. Switzer asked if he could call me back on his way to pick up Owens.

Switzer indeed called back, and he started chatting about Mildren and the wishbone, and the next thing you know, he was cussing himself. He had driven to 89th Street in Oklahoma City without stopping to pick up Owens.

But the stories were priceless. Here are three.

1. OU opened the 1971 season with a 30-0 rout of SMU, then went to Pittsburgh and drilled the Panthers 55-29. Back in those days, you could scout opponents, and Texas sent Bill Ellington to Pitt.

Ellington reported back to Darrell Royal. “Best offensive team I’ve ever seen,” Ellington said.

Royal responded, “Including ours?”

“Including ours,” Ellington replied.

2. When OU switched to the wishbone, Switzer said he was worried only about two players. Mildren, I wrote about in the Sunday paper. The other? Greg Pruitt.

Pruitt was a sophomore speedster from Houston who had been playing flanker in the veer. “Everytime he touched the ball that spring, he ran for a touchdown,” Switzer said. “We knew he was a great player.”

But in the wishbone, Pruitt would need to play halfback. “He was having to move to a foreign position,” Switzer said. “We were sticking his (butt) at second-string . It really upset Greg.”

Switzer said he worked extra with Pruitt, learning the halfback position. At Iowa State, in the fourth game of the wishbone era, starting halfback Everett Marshall was knocked out of the game. “We put Greg Pruitt in with (fellow halfback) Joe Wylie, and it was all over. Once (Pruitt) learned the assignments, he would become what he became.”

Outside of Mildren and Pruitt, “the rest I didn’t give a s— about,” Switzer said. “Players are going to do what you tell ‘em.”

3. The wishbone was not the only major schematic change OU made to jump-start the dynasty. OU switched from the 4-4 defense to the 5-2 in 1971. Coordinator Larry Lacewell wanted to make the switch in 1970, but head coach Chuck Fairbanks, already switching offenses from the I formation to the veer, didn’t want to inflict too much change on his football team.

In the 4-4, OU used a rover and a monster (remember those positions?). Iowa State got up 21-0 on OU in 1970; the Sooners rallied for a 29-28 victory. “Lacewell wanted to be a four-deep team,” Switzer said, referring to a four-defensive back set. “I wish we’d have gone to it sooner. We weren’t a great defensive team.”

Periodically over the years I have ranked the OU quarterbacks in history, and I don’t always have the exact same order. New QBs come along, I learn new information about older guys, someone says something that makes me change my mind. For instance, last time, I didn’t include Jimmy Harris. and I heard from enough old-guard Sooner fans, including a couple with very good points, to make me reconsider. Anyway, with the death of Jack Mildren, this seems like as good a time as any to rerank.

 1. Jack Mildren: The only real reason to rank Jack behind Jason White is that White won the Heisman and Mildren didn’t. But here’s my question. How many Oklahomans vote in the Heisman, 15 or 20? Something like that. That’s out of 800-900 voters. So should we let guys from Pennsylvania and California and South Carolina, 33 years apart, decide for us which OU quarterback was better? Here is the Heisman truth. Maybe White deserved the 2003 Heisman. But does anyone now (or even then) really believe Jason White was the best campus football player in 2003? No one really wants to make that argument. But you most definitely can make the argument that Jack Mildren was the best college football player in 1971. Auburn’s Pat Sullivan won the Heisman. They went head-to-head in the Sugar Bowl. It was clear who was the better player, and it wasn’t the guy with the trophy.

2. Josh Heupel: One of the favorite things I ever wrote was maybe the most lyrical column I’ve ever written. It could have been put to music. It was about the two quarterbacks who changed OU history. Jack from Abilene and Josh from Aberdeen. Both quarterbacks transformed Sooner football. Both spectacularly ignited era: Mildren in the wishbone, Heupel with the passing spread. Both turned their coaches into virtually-instant legends; Mildren made Chuck Fairbanks a big winner who was plucked off by the NFL, paving the way for Mildren’s offensive coordinator, Barry Switzer, and Heupel jump-started the Bob Stoops era with a national championship in Year No. 2.

3. Jason White: This is not a knock on White. I love White. I wrote about my preferences for White over Nate Hybl back in their first QB derby, and received a catty email from Hybl’s girlfriend, which turned out to be ironic because I later did a radio show with Hybl and got to know both he and Stephanie. Had them over for dinner and they became friends. We went to their wedding. White was a wonderful quarterback on wonderful teams. I don’t want to take back his Heisman. But he didn’t transform the Sooners. He had the ultimate respect of his teammates, but those ‘03 and ‘04 OU teams weren’t White’s teams the way the ‘71 Sooners and ‘00 Sooners belonged to Jack from Abilene and Josh from Aberdeen.

4. Jack Mitchell: The more I learn about Jack Mitchell, the higher up the chart he goes. Bud Wilkinson’s first quarterback and helped invent the option. Lethal punt returner, too. Here’s how good was Jack Mitchell. In 1949, the year after Mitchell’s departure, Darrell Royal made All-American as a senior quarterback. In 1947 and 1948, Wilkinson kept moving Mitchell to halfback to make way for Royal. Both years, he moved Mitchell back. How good was Jack Mitchell? He was better than Darrell Royal.

5. Eddie Crowder: My dad always told me the story of how good a ballhandler was Crowder. That several times in 1951 and 1952, Crowder would fake to the fullback, Buck McPhail I suppose, and keep the ball, only to hear the ref’s whistle blow the play dead. Strange thought. If Jack Mildren hadn’t saved Fairbanks’ job in 1970, do you suppose OU would have tried to go after Crowder at Colorado?

6. J.C. Watts: I’ve always thought J.C. was the most underrated of OU’s wishbone quarterbacks. He clearly played on teams that were less-talented than Steve Davis’ and Thomas Lott’s juggernauts. But Watts was a winner. His record as a starter was 22-3, and some of those wins came on last-minute heroics.

7.  Indian Jack Jacobs: Indian Jack was OU’s greatest pro quarterback. Alas, he did it in the Canadian Football League, as a star for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, who drew such crowds because of Jacobs’ aerials that they built a new stadium. “The House That Jack Built,” it was dubbed. Jacobs played at OU in 1940-41. If he had played for Bob Stoops, he would have thrown 40 touchdown passes a year and there might be a fifth statue along Jenkins.

8. Jimmy Harris: Yes, he went 25-0 as the starter, but that’s not why I returned him to the top 10. The guy he replaced, Gene Calame, went 15-0, so no Sooner quarterback in those days was in the habit of losing. OU was so much better than anyone else, Jerry Tubbs could have quarterbacked the Sooners to the Orange Bowl. But the guys that played with Harris or saw him play rave about his toughness and his smarts and his leadership. At some point, I figure I better start listening to them.

9. Danny Bradley: An underrated quarterback. The 1984 Big Eight player of the year who got the Sooners back on championship form after three years behind Nebraska. The ‘83-84 Sooners were children of a lesser football god compared to Switzer’s earlier and later teams, but Bradley was a salty quarterback.

10. Thomas Lott: OK, I admit some bias. When I was a kid, I loved Thomas Lott. Loved his bandana. Loved his persona. Loved his style, a fullback playing quarterback. Loved his smoothness on the option pitch. But even taking out the bias, I’ll take Lott over Steve Davis, another quarterback with a glorious record, for the same reason early in 1976 I kept wanting Switzer to make Lott the starter over Dean Blevins. I watched them play.

Joe Wylie figured out why I had called. He’s a financial services agent in Tyler, Texas, now, and why would an Oklahoma City writer be calling after 10 p.m. on a Thursday. He had a sinking feeling what the news would be.

He was right. Jack Mildren was dead.

Thursday night was tough duty, and not just because we wrote about someone who had gone from legend to colleague. I called several Sooners to ask them about Mildren; Barry Switzer, Tom Brahaney and Vic Kearney already had heard the news, Wylie had not. We didn’t mention it, but left unsaid was this. When talking about the loss of Mildren, they were talking about their own mortality.

Mildren, to me, was the bridge between modern OU football and yesteryear. He played I-formation quarterback in 1969, when I was eight years old and the Sooners still were trying to emerge from the shadow of Bud Wilkinson’s splendor and sunset. In 1969, the Sooners were less than six years removed from Wilkinson’s final season. By 1971, the modern era had arrived, with a wishbone the likes of which college never had seen.

So Mildren, to me, was both young and old. He had a weathered face, even while playing, so it was easy to think of him as a veteran. But he also was ALWAYS in the public sphere. OU quarterback, NFL player, politician, sports radio host.

But to those old players who listened to Mildren in the huddle and followed him down the line of scrimmage in the wishbone, Mildren had to always be General Jack, the unquestioned leader of Sooner football. The quarterback who handed the ball, and thus the Heisman, to Steve Owens in 1969, and who pitched the ball, and thus history, to Greg Pruitt in 1971.

Wylie told of looking forward to, when his kids were finally grown, OU football reunions, talking about the glory days. And now, those reunions won’t include the leader.

Fifty-eight is one of those remarkable ages that is both young and old. This morning, those Sooners of 1969 and 1970 and 1971 probably are thinking about themselves as much as Mildren. Thinking about all the good times of life, while also wondering where did the years go.

I’m covering the Big 12 baseball tournament today. I wasn’t assigned any duty Wednesday, but I stopped by at lunch. Randy Bowen, who runs the Chevrolet dealership in Chandler and is sponsoring our Big 12 baseball coverage, was in the OPUBCO suite, so I tagged along with a couple of editors to meet Bowen and say thanks.

I like to talk about commerce, particularly in small towns, so I bent Bowen’s ear about owning the Chevy dealership in the Lincoln County seat. Here’s one thing I learned: tourists still patrol Route 66 (on which sits Bowen’s dealership). Bowen said not every day, but every few days, foreigners stop in for pictures and to talk about Route 66.

I guess the fascination still comes from The Grapes of Wrathand the old CBS show “Route 66″ starring Martin Milner and George Maharis. Anyway, it got me to wondering if Oklahoma is effectively milking its 432 miles of old Route 66. Maybe it is, but new ideas always are worthwhile.

To get to Randy Bowen, I had to travel along something far newer than Route 66. Bricktown Ballpark itself. I get a charge every time I walk into the Brick; the 10-year-old park has held up beautifully. Still a jewel of a place. I don’t care if it’s RedHawks, college baseball, a concert, whatever. The ballpark remains a wonderful addition to downtown and the first of the MAPS projects, which told us that things were changing in downtown OKC.

I think I’ll write about the Brick and Bricktown today. I still shake my head with every trip downtown, with every driveby along the Crosstown Expressway, at the transformation of a city. It’s remarkable. And the ballpark played a not small part.

Impressions of the NBA draft lottery:

1. It’s fun to see where your team is going to get slotted, but as far as riveting television, this is not. The ESPN show needs to be condensed, and it’s already intermixed with the Eastern Conference Finals pre-game show.

2. Wonder if Mike D’Antoni would like a do-over? The deposed Suns coach had his pick between the Knickerbockers and the Bulls, and he chose New York. Bad choice. Chicago has a better roster, a better front office (though not a good one), better working conditions (the New York media can roast a coach) and now the No. 1 draft pick. Who in their right mind would pick the Knicks over that?

3. The Sacramento Kings’ contest for a fan to represent the franchise at the lottery was totally cool. Great, great move. And Margie Parilo was charming and funny, the best part of the lottery show.

4. The Sonics actually are a little ahead of the curve in the last two lotterys. Slotted for fifth in 2007, Seattle got to pick second. Slotted for second in 2008, the Sonics will pick fourth. That’s coming out ahead.

5. Using the lottery as a marketing tool is a great move. Fan, superstar, whoever. The Nets used Jay-Z, which probably was a great decision. That could at least appeal to a certain segment of fans. So what were the Bulls thinking, having that goober exec representing them? Steve Schanwald, its marketing chief, was Mr. Bull Tuesday night, and the franchise’s post-Jordan drifting was completely understandable after watching that guy. All he could think to say was the Bulls’ phone number for tickets. That’s the kind of thinking that sent Tyson Chandler to the Hornets for virtually nothing.

6. ESPN shows how important is the lottery with its use of Doris Burke as host. Burke made Schanwald seem spicy; she called him “Stan” instead of Steve, though you hardly can blame her for not knowing the guy’s name.