We interrupt this football season …
Apparently, this Blake Griffin guy is pretty good.
The Los Angeles Clipper rookie is making some serious noise this preseason. Last week, he scored 23 points and grabbed seven rebounds in only 29 minutes against San Antonio. That prompted Spurs coach Gregg Popovich to say: “He’s a monster. He deserved to be picked where he was picked, that’s for sure.”
By the way, Popovich meant that he was a monster in a complementary way.
Check out what Griffin said about the coach’s quote.
You’ll also want to check out this dunk that happened Sunday night when the Clippers faced the in-town rival Lakers. Big Blake had his first big-time posterization since turning pro.
It has prompted his teammates to give him a new nickname: Amazin’.
I suspect DJ Mbenga would agree.
Rennels’ actions stir angry emotions
Watching the Danny Rennels situation unfold over these past few months has been difficult.
You know the story: the executive director of the Oklahoma Secondary Schools Activities Association was fired earlier this year when an investigation determined that he’d been embezzling funds. The man who’d been put in charge of overseeing high school sports in our state was taking money from the very kids, coaches, teams and schools that he was supposed to be helping and representing.
It was a sad deal. Every time I heard the sum that Rennels was reported to have taken — more than $100,000 — I just shook my head.
But now, my sadness has turned to madness.
Monday, Rennels was charged with embezzling $457,000 from the OSSAA.
To put it in starker terms, he stole almost half a million dollars.
It’s an unbelievable amount. How could this man who championed high school sports, who liked to talk about what was right and good have been skimming thousands upon thousands of dollars at the same time? How could he have been taking checks from sponsors and payments from contractors and using them to pay for what appears to be an expensive internet gambling habit?
How could he?
It is the ultimate betrayal of trust.
I remember talking to Rennels in late 2005. That was when the Tucker Brown case had everyone talking. The Shawnee quarterback had been ejected late in a playoff game for fighting, which carries a two-game suspension. That meant he wasn’t going to be able to play Shawnee’s next game, and after much haranguing and many delays, the case ended up in court.
I went to Rennels’ office at the OSSAA to talk about the brouhaha. His association, in many ways, had become the evil empire in the disagreement.
Rennels told me a little about his small-town, hard-scrabble upbringing, which had instilled his sense of right and wrong.
“It’s not, I don’t think, that I’m hard headed,” he told me that day. “It’s that I think there are some lines, and those lines, when defined and when you understand them, have to be followed.”
That, Rennels said, is why he decided the OSSAA needed to take the case to court.
“The rules are what they are,” he said. “This rule’s not mine. Our schools wanted it. We very simply attempt to enforce the rules that our schools have placed upon themselves.
“I guess I am … a rule-follower.”
According to court documents, Rennels had started embezzling money from the OSSAA about three months earlier.
I know that I should probably focus on what good can come out of this situation, that the OSSAA will likely do a better job of keeping track of its funds, that the organization’s oversight is sure to improve, that it will also get back all of the money that Rennels took. But those positive emotions will have to wait.
Right now, I’m angry, and I suspect plenty of other folks are, too.
More from The Q&A: Charlie Heatly
Everyone knows Charlie Heatly as the guy who plays the music at The Big House during the state basketball tournaments.
The former basketball coach at Lindsay High School has been around the state tournaments for five decades, so he has plenty of great memories and lots of fantastic stories.
Jenni Carlson: You got to see some great things as a coach here, but you’ve got to see some pretty special stuff from this seat, too.
Charlie Heatly: Gosh, last year, some of those games … last year watching (Keiton) Page and (Rotnei) Clarke, oh, what a treat that was. I don’t know whether we’ll ever reach that again or not.
JC: Then, there was Pocola-Walters and that crazy finish.
CH: It was probably the most miraculous. I’ve never seen anything quite like that. But as far as enjoyment, I think I enjoyed watching Page and Clarke more than anybody else.
JC: What were your early days as The Big House deejay like?
CH: I’m not sure if it was the eight-tracks … but I’d have to rewind back in those days. I’d play a song then have to rewind it. I had them all scattered out.
JC: Wish I’d been here in one of those early years to see you in action.
CH: I was busy — “Don’t call timeout; I haven’t got the music ready.” … I enjoy it. It’s the most exciting two weeks of my year. I went to Tulsa the last two years and played the music for the Tournament of Champions. That’s fun to do.
JC: You keep picking up gigs, and you’re going to be a full-time deejay. You’ll be playing weddings, proms.
CH: I can’t imagine that. (Laughs.) That’s not my cup of tea.
JC: If times get any tougher in the economy …
CH: Now you’re talking. I might need to think about that.
JC: If things don’t improve, I might be trying to take your job.
CH: I know, I know. (Laughs.)
Millwood coach belongs in Hall
Somehow it was ironic that I received a ballot for the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame this week.
Ironic because I’ve been working on a project about Varryl Franklin, the legendary Millwood High School basketball coach. Ironic, too, because Franklin is never up for these types of honors.
You can search high and low for a hall of fame that Franklin is a part of, and you won’t find it. No coaches’ hall of fame. No state hall of fame. No national one either.
If Franklin is a member of a hall of fame, my Google searching prowess has failed me.
On his basketball record alone, he should be a hall of famer. He has won 11 state championships as the head boys basketball coach at Millwood. That’s more prep basketball titles than any other coach, alive or dead, male or female in Oklahoma history.
Think of all the great high school coaches this state has produced. Bertha Teague. Jenks Simmons. Even Eddie Sutton and Sherri Coale spent some time in the high school ranks. None of those greats won anywhere close to the number of titles that Franklin has won. That should be enough to get him into a hall of fame.
But the thing is, his greatness is so much bigger than those on-court triumphs. He is a maker of men, a builder of leaders. He has helped to encourage and empower generation after generation of athletes at Millwood.
He did it as a longtime football assistant. He did it as a basketball assistant before becoming the head coach 30 years ago. And he continues to do it to this day.
One of his former players called him an “unsung hero.”
Maybe the reason that no hall of fame has ever come calling is because Franklin could care less about individual honors or personal accolades. He doesn’t ask for them. Heck, I get the feeling like he doesn’t even like them.
But Franklin deserves them.
Goodness knows, there are bunch of deserving candidates on my ballot for the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame. But this much I know – it’s a shame that there’s no write-in area. If there was, I know who’s name I’d put there.
