WHAT IT MEANS TO BE MEANS
TO BE A TROJAN
PETE CARROLL
AND SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA'S GREATEST PLAYERS
BY STEVEN TRAVERS
Triumph Books
A division of Random House Publishing
STEVEN TRAVERS
Copyright, 2009
CONTENTS
Always Compete By Pete Carroll
Foreword: What It Means to Be a Trojan by Pete Carroll
Editor's Acknowledgements
Introduction
The THIRTIES
Norman Bing, Ambrose Schindler
The FORTIES
Bill Gray, Jim Hardy, Gordon Gray
The FIFTIES
Frank Gifford, Al "Hoagy" Carmichael, Tom Nickoloff, Sam "the Toe" Tsagalakis, Marv Goux, Jon Arnett, C.R. Roberts, Monte Clark, Ron Mix
The SIXTIES
"Prince Hal" Bedsole, Willie Brown, Craig Fertig, Bill Fisk Jr., Tim Rossovich, Ron Yary, Adrian Young, Mike "Razor" Battle, Steve Sogge, John McKay
The SEVENTIES
John Vella, Sam "Bam" Cunningham, Allan Graf, Rod McNeill, Manfred Moore, J.K. McKay, Richard "Batman" Wood, Clay Matthews, Frank Jordan, Paul McDonald
The EIGHTIES
Keith Van Horne, Roy Foster, Jeff Brown, Michael Harper. Tim Green, Steve Jordan, Jeff "Breeg" Bregel, Rex Moore, Mark "Aircraft" Carrier, John "J.J." Jackson
The NINETIES
Todd Marinovich, Scott Ross, Derrick Deese, Matt Gee, Taso Papadakis, John Robinson
The NEW MILLENIUM
Kevin Arbet, Brandon Hancock. Tom Malone, Mario Danelo
DUSTCOVER
Throughout the 20th Century, it was considered an article of faith that the University of Notre Dame had the greatest collegiate football tradition of all time, but under Coach Pete Carroll, the University of Southern California Trojans have caught up to, and indeed surpassed, the Fighting Irish as the greatest historical program in the land.
Now for the first time in one book are all the great first-person stories, as told by the legendary Men of Troy themselves, in this modern college football version of The Glory of Their Times. Two names surface throughout: Marv Goux, the late, legendary assistant coach who symbolized What It Means to Be a Trojan, and Coach Carroll, who sought out Goux in his later years to get to "the essence of what the University of Southern California is all about."
The stories told by the men in these pages tell the tale of a unique university, experience and football past that seemingly mirrors the words of General George Patton when asked his opinion of Morocco: "It's partly the Bible, and partly Hollywood." Indeed, Trojan football over the decades has resembled something beyond exciting, albeit miraculous, while at the same time symbolizing movie star glitz and glamour. No man has better suited this persona than Coach Carroll himself, a man referred to by Trojan alum and college football broadcaster Petros Papadakis as "the Prince of the City."
PETE CARROLL
(with photo)
After years as an assistant coach (including defensive coordinator of the San Francisco 49ers) and head jobs with the New York Jets and New England Patriots, Pete Carroll found his niche at USC, where he has compiled one of the greatest records in the history of collegiate grid annals. His Trojans won consecutive national championships (2003-04), two Orange Bowls, three Rose Bowls, and from 2003-06 were ranked number one a record 33 consecutive weeks while compiling the second-longest winning streak in the modern, major college era (34 games). A three-time Pacific-10 Conference Coach of the Year, Carroll was the National Coach of the Year in 2003 and 2004. Despite his busy schedule, Carroll has shown amazing dedication to the inner city community that surrounds the USC campus and has risen to a level of popularity and respect in Southern California matched by few figures in sports or any other field of endeavor. He and his wife Glena are the parents of a daughter, Jaime, an ex-Trojan volleyball player, and son Nate, a USC student. His older son Brennan is an assistant coach with the Trojans.
STEVEN TRAVERS
(with photo)
Steven Travers was born in the same city (San Francisco), grew up in the same county (Marin), attended the same high school (Redwood), was coached/mentored by the same men (Al Endriss, Bob Troppmann), and later graduated from the same college (USC) that Pete Carroll attended and/or established his coaching legend at. They are not the same age, but many of the younger brothers of Carroll's friends played with and were friends of Travers a few years later. An ex-professional baseball player, he is the author of the best-selling Barry Bonds: Baseball’s Superman, nominated for a Casey Award (best baseball book of 2002). He is also the author of The USC Trojans: College Football’s All-Time Greatest Dynasty (a National Book Network “top 100 seller”); One Night, Two Teams: Alabama vs. USC and the Game That Changed a Nation (subject of a documentary and major motion picture, a 2007 PNBA nominee); and five books in the Triumph/Random House Essential series (A’s, Dodgers, Angels, D’backs, Trojans). Other Triumph/Random House books include: The Good, the Bad & the Ugly Los Angeles Lakers; The Good, the Bad & the Ugly Oakland Raiders; The Good, the Bad & the Ugly San Francisco 49ers, and What It Means to Be a Trojan. His other books include The 1969 Miracle Mets; Pigskin Warriors: 140 Years of College Football's Greatest Games, Players and Traditions; Dodgers Baseball Yesterday and Today; and A Tale of Three Cities: New York, L.A. and San Francisco in October of '62. Steve was a columnist for StreetZebra magazine in Los Angeles and the San Francisco Examiner. He also penned the screenplays The Lost Battalion and 21. Travers helped lead the Redwood High School baseball team to the national championship his senior year; attended college on an athletic scholarship; was an all-conference pitcher; and coached at USC, Cal-Berkeley and in Europe. He also attended law school, served in the Army, and is a guest lecturer at the University of Southern California. A fifth generation Californian, Steve has a daughter, Elizabeth Travers and still resides in the Golden State.
Books written by Steven Travers
One Night, Two Teams: Alabama vs. USC and the Game That Changed A Nation (also a documentary, Tackling Segregation, and soon to be a major motion picture)
A’s Essential: Everything You Need to Know to Be A Real Fan!
Trojans Essential: Everything You Need to Know to Be A Real Fan!
Dodgers Essential: Everything You Need to Know to Be A Real Fan!
Angels Essential: Everything You Need to Know to Be A Real Fan!
D’Backs Essential: Everything You Need to Know to Be A Real
The USC Trojans: College Football's All-Time Greatest Dynasty
The Good, the Bad & the Ugly Los Angeles Lakers
The Good, the Bad & the Ugly Oakland Raiders
The Good, the Bad & the Ugly San Francisco 49ers
Barry Bonds: Baseball’s Superman
Pigskin Warriors: 140 Years of College Football's Greatest Games, Players and Traditions
The 1969 Miracle Mets
Dodgers Baseball Yesterday and Today
A Tale of Three Cities: New York, L.A. and San Francisco in October of '62
God's Country: A Conservative, Christian Worldview of How History Formed the United States Empire and America's Manifest Destiny for the 21st Century
Angry White Male
The Writer’s Life
Praise for Steven Travers
Steve Travers is the next great USC historian, in the tradition of Jim Murray, John Hall, and Mal Florence! . . . The Trojan Nation needs your work!
- USC Head Football Coach Pete Carroll
I knew you loved USC, but you really love USC! This is a book about American society. It sheds incredible light on little-known events that every American must know to understand this country . . . In 20 years, people will say of this book what they said about Roger Kahn's The Boys of Summer.
- Fred Wallin, CRN national sportstalk host
Steve Travers combines wit, humor, social pathos and historical knowledge with the kind of sports expertise that only an ex-jock is privy to; it is reminiscent of the work of Jim Bouton, Pat Jordan and Dan Jenkins, combined with Jim Murray’s turn of phrase, Hunter Thompson’s hard-scrabble Truths, and David Halberstam’s unique take on our nation’s place in history. His writing is great storytelling, and the result is pure genius every time.
- Westwood One sports media personality Mike McDowd
Steve Travers is a great writer, an educated athlete who knows how to get inside the player’s heads, and when that happens, greatness occurs. He’s gonna be a superstar.
- San Francisco Examiner
Steve Travers is a phenomenal writer, an artist who labors over every word to get it just right, and he has an encyclopedic knowledge of sports and history.
- StreetZebra magazine
Steve Travers is a Renaissance man.
Jim Rome Show
Travers' new book finally explains the phenomenon . . . the Bonds tale is spelled out in the most thorough, interesting, revealing, concise manner ever reached.
- Maury Allen/www.TheColumnists.com, Gannett Newspapers
Travers appears to have the right credentials for the task: He is a former minor leaguer who also penned screenplays in addition to a column for the San Francisco Examiner. He calls on that background in crafting a straightforward, warts-and-all profile that remains truthful without becoming a mean-spirited hatchet job . . .
- USA Today Baseball Weekly
This is a fascinating book written by a man who knows his subject matter inside and out.
- Irv Kaze/KRLA Radio, Los Angeles
Get this book. You've brought Bonds to life.
- Fred Wallin/Syndicated sportstalk host, Los Angeles
This promises to be the biggest sports book of 2002.
- Greg Papa/KTCT Radio, San Francisco
This cat struck out Kevin Mitchell five times in one game. I'll read the book for that reason alone. Plus, he hangs out with Charlie Sheen. How do I get that gig?
- Rod Brooks/Fitz & Brooks, KNBR Radio, San Francisco
. . . gossipy, easy-to-read tale . . . explores the sports culture that influences this distinguished slugger . . . entertaining.
- Library Journal
Warts-and-all . . . Travers explores Bonds' mercurial temper and place in baseball history.
- Novato Journal
… the first comprehensive biography of Barry Bonds.
- Bud Geracie/San Jose Mercury News
Travers thought he hit the jackpot . . .
- Furman Bischer, Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Travers…hit the big time . . . Travers . . . established himself as a writer of many dimensions . . . a natural . . . You were ahead of your time with the Bonds book. I still think it is the best biography of him I've seen. It does more to capture his personality than all the steroid books and articles.
- John Jackson/Ross Valley Reporter
Travers is a minor league pitcher-turned-sportswriter, and therefore qualified to evaluate [Larry] Dierker's thought process in ordering all those walks regardless of the score or the situation.
- Stan Hochman/Philadelphia Daily News
. . . looks at all of Barry's warts, yet remains in the end favorable to him. Not an easy balancing act. This is not your average sports book. It is edgy and filled with laughs . . . and inside baseball. Good, solid reading.
- www.Amazon.com
It's a great read.
- Pete Wilson/KGO Radio, San Francisco
This is a good book that really covers his whole life, and informs us where Bonds is coming from. His entire life is laid out. He is very qualified to continue to write books such as this one. Good job.
- Marty Lurie/Right off the Bat Oakland A’s pre-game host
. . . a quality piece . . . (Travers) uses his experiences in baseball . . . providing a humorous glimpse into the life of a player. Would I recommend this book? Absolutely . . . laughed out loud several times at Travers' unique way of explaining his experiences. This book is definitely worth the time.
- John Kenny/www.esportnews.com
Travers’ account mentions everything from cocaine to sex to car crashes to what Bonds said he would do to Roger Clemens . . . more than a “hit” piece.
- Johnson City Press
Travers' book does do a more well-rounded job of solving the mystery of who Bonds is . . . appealing . . . is the more inside look at Bonds in Travers' book.
- San Jose Mercury News
. . . Travers' work is every baseball aficionado's dream.
- Fairfield Daily Republic
You've created quite a stir here at the station, with the Giants, and throughout baseball.
Rick Barry/Hall of Fame basketball star and sportstalk host, KNBR Radio, San Francisco
You've stirred a hornet's nest here, man.
- J.T. “The Brick”/Syndicated national sportstalk host
This is a controversial subject and a controversial player, but you've educated us.
- Ron Barr/Sportsline, Armed Forces Radio Network
A baseball player who can write . . . who knew? This one sure can!
- Arny “The Stinkin’ Genius” Spanyer/Fox Sports Radio, Los Angeles
You know baseball like few people I've ever spoken to.
- Andy Dorff/Sportstalk host, Phoenix, Philadelphia & New Jersey
Congratulations . . . a tour de force.
- Kate DeLancey/WFAN Radio, New York City
I can't stand Bonds, but you've done a good job with a difficult subject.
- Grant Napier/Sportstalk host, Sacramento
Steve's a literate ex-athlete, an ex-Trojan and a veteran of Hollywood, too.
- Lee “Hacksaw” Hamilton/XTRA Radio, San Diego
A great book about a great player.
- KTHK Radio, Sacramento
A gem.
- Roseville Press-Tribune
Here's the man to talk to regarding the subject of Barry Bonds.
- John Lobertini/KPIX TV, San Francisco
He's enlightened us on the subject of Bonds, his father, and Godfather, Willie Mays.
- Brian Sussman/KPIX TV. San Francisco
I hate Bonds, but you're okay.
- Scott Ferrall/Syndicated national and New York sportstalk host
One of the better baseball books I've read.
- KOA Radio, Denver
. . . the "last word" on Barry Bonds . . .
- Scott Reis/ESPN TV
. . . a hot new biography on Barry Bonds . . .
- Darian Hagan/CNN
. . . one of the great sportswriters on the current American scene, Steve Travers . . .
Joe Shea/Radio talk host; Bradenton, Florida and editor, www.American-Reporter.com
To a real pro.
- Jeff Prugh, former Los Angeles Times Atlanta bureau chief
It was a good read.
- Lance Williams/Co-author, Game of Shadows
You’ve done some good writin’, dude.
- KFOG Radio, San Francisco
A very interesting read which is not your average . . . book . . . Steve has achieved his bona fides when it comes to having the credentials to write a book like this.
- Geoff Metcalfe/KSFO Radio, San Francisco
Steve Travers is a true USC historian and a loyal Trojan!
- Former USC football player John Papadakis
Pete Carroll calls you “the next great USC historian,” high praise indeed.
- Rob Fukuzaki/ABC7, Los Angeles
You’re a great writer and I always enjoy your musings . . . particularly on SC football - huge fan!
- Oakland A’s general manager Billy Beane
A's Essential: Everything You Need To Be a Real Fan offers a breezy history (with emphasis on the Oakland years), player biographies, Top 10 lists, trivia questions and more about the Athletics' franchise that has resided in Philadelphia, Kansas City and, since 1968, Oakland.
- Bruce Dancis/Sacramento Bee
Steven Travers is one of the most accomplished sports journalists in our nation today . . .
- Strandbooks.com
Wow what a great job!!!! . . . I love the book . . . It's one of those you look forward to reading at special times . . . I can't say enough!
- Lonnie White, Los Angeles Times
Steve is the USC historian whose meticulous attention to detail is a revelation. He is the best chronicler of USC ever.
- Chuck Hayes, CRN “Sports Corner”
This is fabulous, just a terrific look at our history. Travers is one of the best writers around.
- Rod Brooks, “Fitz & Brooks Show,” KNBR/San Francisco
You have created a work of art here, an absolutely great book. We love your work.
- Bob Fitzgerald, “Fitz & Brooks Show,” KNBR/San Francisco
When it comes to sports history, this is the man right here.
- Gary Radnich, KRON/4, San Francisco
Steve combines . . . social and historical knowledge in his writing.
- University of Southern California
Author Steven Travers discusses his new book . . .
- Orange County Register
. . . Join Steve Travers . . . at the Autograph Stage . . .
- ESPN Radio
. . . Steve Travers, author of One Night, Two Teams: Alabama vs. USC and the Game That Changed a Nation . . .
- Los Angeles Daily News
Steve Travers, a sports historian . . .
- Los Alamitos News-Enterprise
Here this dynamic speaker tell how this famous game changed history.
- Friends of the Los Alamitos-Rossmoor Library
Travers presents this particular game in 1970 as a metaphor for the profound changes in social history during the emancipation of the South.
- Publishers Weekly
. . . Explored in rich, painstaking detail by Steve Travers.
Jeff Prugh, L.A. Times beat writer who covered the 1970 USC-Alabama game
This is a fabulous book.
Michaela Pereira/KTLA 5, Los Angeles
You're a prolific talent.
Curtis Kim, KSRO Radio, Santa Rosa
Is there anything you've not written?
Vernon Glenn. KRON/4, San Francisco
To Tim Tessalone for all your help all these years
And to Seargant Gary Andrade,
Who rooted for the Trojans while fighting like one in Iraq
Photo captions
CONTENTS
Always Compete By Pete Carroll
Foreword: What It Means to Be a Trojan by Pete Carroll
Editor's Acknowledgements
Introduction
The TWENTIES
The Duke
The THIRTIES
Norman Bing, Ambrose Schindler
Glory Days
The FORTIES
Bill Gray, Jim Hardy, Gordon Gray
The FIFTIES
Ed Demirjian, Frank Gifford, Al "Hoagy" Carmichael
He Was Flower of SF Sports Past
Tom Nickoloff, Sam "the Toe" Tsagalakis, Marv Goux, Jon Arnett, C.R. Roberts, Monte Clark, Ron Mix
A Tale of Two Pitchers
The SIXTIES
Bill Redell, "Prince Hal" Bedsole, Willie Brown, Craig Fertig, Bill Fisk Jr., Bob Svihus, Tim Rossovich
The Re-Incarnation of Christy Mathewson
Ron Yary, Adrian Young, Mike "Razor" Battle, Steve Sogge
Spaceman Re-Visited
Tom Kelly, John McKay
An Unsung Hero
The SEVENTIES
Mike Walden, Clarence Davis, Sam Dickerson, Jeff Prugh, Bruce Rollinson, Bud "The Steamer" Furillo, Dave Levy, John Vella
Mr. Smith Goes to Bucharest
Dave Levy, Dave Brown, Cliff Culbreath, Sam "Bam" Cunningham, Allan Graf, Charles "Tree" Young, Rod McNeill, Manfred Moore, Anthony "A.D." Davis, Pat Haden, J.K. McKay
Rich McKay
Richard "Batman" Wood, Gene Lawryk, Rod Martin, Clay Matthews, Frank Jordan, Otis Page, Paul McDonald
The Houdini of Bovard
The EIGHTIES
Keith Van Horne, Jim Perry, Roy Foster, Mike Roth, Jeff Simmons, Scott Tinsley, Jeff Brown
Mickey Meister Was My Friend
Michael Harper
Sham or Slam?
Tim Green, Steve Jordan, Brent Moore
Big Unit Was Bay Area Boy of Summer
Jeff Bregel, Rex Moore, Martin Chesley, Mark "Aircraft" Carrier, John "J.J." Jackson
A Line Drive Hitter
The NINETIES
Gene Fruge, Todd Marinovich, Scott Ross, Derrick Deese, Matt Gee, Tim "Mad Dog" Lavin
Past and Future Play Winning Tennis at Mercedes
Taso Papadakis
It's Too Early to Hype Palmer for Heisman . . . Or Is It?
Barry Zito Is Key to Oakland's Re-Emergence
John Robinson
"For Real!"
A Reliquary For Real Baseball Fans
The NEW MILLENIUM
Kevin Arbet
The Heir Apparent to Flo Jo
This Vandy Dandy Is Now a Trojan
Brandon Hancock
Making His Own Legend
Tom Malone
The Forrest Gump of Baseball
Mario Danelo
****
Mark Spino
ALWAYS COMPETE
INTRODUCTION
Nobody embodies the magic, the charisma, the spirit and the excitement of What It Means to Be a Trojan more than head coach Pete Carroll. This is quite a statement, because the likes of John "Duke" Wayne, Rod Dedeaux, Frank Gifford, Bill Sharman, Jesse "Big Daddy" Unruh, Norman Topping, John McKay, Marv Goux, George Lucas, Tom Selleck, Tom Seaver, Bill Lee, Bob Seagren, C. Christopher Cox, Sam "Bam" Cunningham, Patricia Nixon, John Naber, Marcus Allen, Ronnie Lott, John Robinson, Randy Johnson, Cindy McCain, Dr. Steven Sample, and Mike Garrett are just a few of those who have also embodied What It Means to Be a Trojan. But Coach Carroll has taken it to a new level. He is the "Prince of the City" in Los Angeles, a man who could be Mayor, maybe even Governor as Paul "Bear" Bryant might have been in Alabama, had he chosen to try. This is a man who has attained the respect previously reserved for such luminaries as Jimmy Stewart, Vin Scully and John Wooden.
So, for me personally, watching Pete Carroll rise to this level has been a particular thrill ride. You see, the first time I ever heard of Pete Carroll was my freshman year at Redwood High School in Marin County, a leafy suburb of San Francisco, located just north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The tradition at Redwood was to hang photos of baseball, football and basketball captains in the boys' locker room. One would look up and see the visage of young sports heroes of previous years. I noticed that Carroll graced not one but three photos on that wall. He was pictured as captain in his football, basketball and baseball uniforms. I immediately deduced that he must be a special athlete and leader. For young athletes like myself, guys like Pete Carroll were something to aspire to, to emulate.
Bob Troppmann was still coaching football at Redwood when I arrived there. He had been there since the school opened for business in 1958 and had built it into a Bay Area power. Coach Troppmann, as it turned out, was an old family friend. My father, Donald Travers, had been a great track and cross country coach at Lowell and Balboa High Schools in San Francisco. Coach Troppmann had come out of the Marine Corps, gotten his teaching credential, and was a young teacher/coach at Lowell when he met and befriended my father.
By the time I entered Redwood, my dad had become an attorney and Coach Troppmann had moved across the bay to Marin. He was a genuinely nice, approachable man and I often sought him out for knowledge of one kind or another. One of my first questions concerned Pete Carroll, who impressed me for having captained three varsity teams. Coach Troppmann just smiled when reminded of Carroll, who had since gone onto the University of Pacific on a football scholarship, made all-conference as a defensive back, and was a promising young coach, moving up the ranks. The affection and indeed admiration Coach Troppmann felt for Pete Carroll was obvious even then.
Over the years, I asked many of the coaches at Redwood who had mentored Pete Carroll about him. Jess Payan, Phil Roark, Dick Hart, Al Endriss; all had positive words to describe Pete Carroll, but one story really stands out. Coach Endriss was a baseball legend, and in fact my junior year he was named National High School Coach of the Year. In my senior year we were the national champions of prep baseball.
Today, Redwood has a new state of the art facility, but in my day our field was considered one of the better yards in the area. Our center field fence circled high over the adjacent track. Often track meets were held during baseball games, and a high home run might disrupt proceedings, but in Pete Carroll's day there was no fence. Extra-base hits slammed over the center fielder's head would land on the track and bound onto the football field, which served as the location for events such as the shot-put and the discuss throw. A bounding outfielder would traipse into the midst of this scene, grab the ball and throw it back to the infield, often amid much cursing and yelling.
My favorite Pete Carroll story somehow seems to symbolize the serendipity that is his life. He was roaming the center field pastures when a long drive was hit over his head. Pete headed back for it, intent, concentrating on the ball. He ignored the cement cleft separating the track from the outfield grass, the running lanes a sort of "warning track" that he paid no attention to.
A relay race was in motion and as Pete chased that ball down, a bevy of runners, maybe three or four tightly bound together, came sprinting around the turn, heading straight for Pete Carroll.
Nobody - not the runners, Pete or the baseball - paid any attention to each other. A gasp went up, from the watching tracksters, from the baseball players shouting a warning, and the fans in the stands. Two locomotives were about to collide in a massive train wreck!
As quickly as it developed, it ended. Pete caught the ball, whirled, and made a Willie Mays-style throw back to the infield. The track runners continued to kick down the stretch. Everybody - the baseball outfielder, the runners and the ball - had missed each other by inches, all as if choreographed like a beautiful ballet.
For some reason, this story is the story of Pete Carroll's charmed life. Good timing combined with skill. A little luck and a lot of focus. In the end, everything always seems to turn out just right with this man.
I followed Coach Carroll's coaching career. He was mentored by such top-notch figures as Lou Holtz at Arkansas, Earle Bruce at Ohio State, Monte Kiffin at North Carolina State, Bud Grant and Jerry Burns in Minnesota, Bruce Coslet in New York, then George Seifert and Bill Walsh in San Francisco. At some point in the late 1980s or early '90s, Carroll's name began to surface on the short list of head coaching candidates in the National Football League. It was only a matter of time, and in 1994 he was elevated from defensive coordinator to head coach of the New York Jets. The guy from my high school was now on the spot in the fish bowl that is the Big Apple, coaching the same team that "Broadway Joe" Namath had once taken to the Super Bowl. When the Jets faltered and Pete was unfairly let go after only one season, it seemed that his hiring by his hometown team, the San Francisco 49ers, was the blessing disguised by his dismissal.
The 49ers were coming off a world championship season and were still in the middle of a dynasty perhaps unmatched in NFL annals. One of their star players was Ken Norton Jr., an All-American linebacker from UCLA, and now an All-Pro. It appeared that Pete was the heir apparent to become the head coach of a franchise that had won five Super Bowls in the previous 14 years. Bill Walsh was still a mainstay in San Francisco's front office, and he tutored Pete to follow that very path.
This plan, however, did not materialize. The New England Patriots needed a head coach, and they went after Pete Carroll, so it was back to the East Coast for the California kid. Boston is, and back then especially was, a baseball town. The "Green Monster" at Fenway Park seemed to loom menacingly over Pete. Coach Carroll was there for three seasons (1997-99). The Patriots were 10-6, 9-7 and 8-8. They made the play-offs twice, but did not attain the Brass Ring. Carroll had a plan, but it was always in conflict with the vision of the owner, the general manager, the scouting department, the mercenary players, the nature of free agency, even the fans and Boston media. They all began to harp that Pete's youthful exuberance, his sandy-blonde hair and 1960s Beach Boys demeanor was not compatible with hardscrabble, East Coast-style pro football. They wanted Bill Parcells, not Brian Wilson.
But Pete's firing was the silver lining inside a dark cloud, because it led him to USC. His future was not with the 49ers, as previously suspected, nor was it in the National Football League. At USC, Carroll took over a foundering ship. The heritage of Trojan football was now yesterday, its trophies collecting dust, its legacy seemingly ancient history. It was the Millennium year and retrospectives were being written about the century that was. Southern California was declared to be the "Athletic Program of the Century." Rod Dedeaux, who guided Troy to 11 of their College World Series titles, was named "College Baseball Coach of the Century," and the USC baseball program was unquestionably the greatest historically, having added a 12th national title under Mike Gillespie in 1998. USC continued its amazing run of Gold medals at the 2000 Sydney Olympics. A Trojan had won Gold at each Games held since 1904.
But the football program was in disarray. In 1982, USC had seemingly "caught up to" Notre Dame. That year they beat the Fighting Irish for the fifth straight season, and had only lost to them twice since 1966. The head-to-head record of the two schools was nearly even. Marcus Allen had won USC's fourth Heisman Trophy the previous season, and the 1978 national championship was Troy's ninth. John Robinson, Marv Goux and Rod Dedeaux were still coaching, but in truth it was the end of a golden era; an era in which John McKay and Robinson had led USC during a period in which it seemed that they, not Notre Dame, was the new, modern "champions" of college football history.
But after that 17-13 Trojan win over the Irish in 1982, the roof fell in, big time. Robinson announced he was going to the Los Angeles Rams and bringing Goux with him. The NCAA levied penalties against USC. Ted Tollner was brought in, blasphemously changing the offensive culture of Trojan football from ground-oriented dominance to Brigham Young-style aerial finesse. The "air" was quickly let out of the tire. Lou Holtz was hired at Notre Dame and the Fighting Irish never lost to Southern California from 1983 to 1995.
Everything seemed to go wrong. People started to call USC "Yesterday U." Symbolic power shifts and bad omens were everywhere. By the 1990s, USC was a successful program, but nobody's idea of a powerhouse as in their storied past. Notre Dame, Alabama, Oklahoma, Nebraska; new champions at Miami and Florida State; it seemed that these schools had achieved a level that was no longer a reasonable expectation for Trojan fans.
Dr. Steven Sample was brought in as president of the University, and he oversaw a huge upgrade in academic standards. It seemed that a trade-off had been made in which USC had chosen to be a great university instead of a great football team. The two were incompatible, people said.
Los Angeles and Southern California, once the center of the American political universe, the place that had produced Presidents Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan, along with nearby Orange County - the epicenter of the conservative movement - now saw a shift to Northern California. The Rams and the Raiders both deserted Los Angeles, while the 49ers were a dynasty. Both USC and UCLA no longer dominated California and Stanford as they had for decades. In the 1990s, the only champion, pro or college, to emerge from L.A. was UCLA's basketball team in 1995.
Attendance and enthusiasm was down everywhere. An earthquake shook the Southland. A drive-by bullet during practice grazed a Trojan football player. Riots surrounded the campus in 1992. Orange County declared bankruptcy.
But Pete Carroll's hiring in 2000 came near the beginning of a major revitalization in Los Angeles. It started with Mayor Richard Riordan's gentrification campaign of the 1990s. Crime was reduced in the city. New buildings, businesses and improved neighborhoods replaced blight. The corridor between USC and downtown L.A. was improved drastically, first by the building of STAPLES Center in 1999, later followed by opening of the Galen Center at USC. The neighborhood surrounding the USC campus was improved by leaps and bounds. Crime was reduced. Air quality standards paid off, and smog in the L.A. basin was cleaned up.
Carroll oversaw a heritage restored, leading USC to national championships in 2003 and 2004, three Heisman Trophies, two Orange Bowl and three Rose Bowl victories, 33 straight number one rankings, a 34-game winning streak, and after six straight wins over Notre Dame in 2007, clear proof that USC was now the greatest historical collegiate football dynasty of all time. Most important, Carroll had ascended to a place of legendary status on par with the likes of Knute Rockne, Pop Warner, Howard Jones, Frank Leahy, Bud Wilkinson, John McKay, Bear Bryant, and Tom Osborne, all the while maintaining the high academic standards set by Dr. Sample in the years before his hiring.
But that was not all. Pete Carroll was the head coach of a university located in the middle of the inner city. Many of his players were from those mean streets. The school's fan base was in large part from those neighborhoods. Pete Carroll, the anointed one, the golden boy, the fortunate son and football deity of Southern California, was making millions, living the dream, in charge at a prestigious, moneyed private institution. But instead of concentrating only on gridiron glory, hob-nobbing with fat-cat alums and their trophy wives, Pete Carroll knew how lucky he was and wanted to pass that luck around.
Many people perform various forms of "community service." Often that means attaching one's name to some foundation or another, or showing up at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. There is rarely any real "service," and what there is often is reserved for the TV cameras or sound bites, all in a concentrated public relations effort to polish an image.
But Pete, who grew up in wealthy Marin and had never known want, decided to try and make a difference. He befriended a local community activist in south-central Los Angeles who drove those mean streets regularly, late at night, in an effort to get kids to quit drugs, quit the gang life, turn away from crime, to find meaning, to find God, to right themselves against all odds. The man invited Pete Carroll to ride along with him on his dangerous sojourns. Pete said sure, and the man thought, "Yeah, right." Then one night Pete called him up and said, "Let's go."
So they did. Not once, not twice, but repeatedly. Instead of breaking down film, recruiting, schmoozing or looking for endorsement deals, Pete Carroll was showing up at liquor stores, street corners and crack houses where young black and Hispanic men were gathering directly in harm's way. The men would warily look at the car pulling to a stop, figuring it to be an undercover narc, a bust, a drug buy. Then Pete Carroll would get out and approach them, and they would not believe their eyes.
Pete has a real quality to him that cannot be manufactured. Either you have it or you do not. A white, middle-aged suburban man in a golf shirt and blow-dried hair lacks any street cred in south-central, but when Pete opened up with, "Hey guys, I'm Pete Carroll," he had immediate panache. Gravitas. Whatever he had, it cannot be bought. It is just natural.
Pete would ask the young men about their lives, their troubles, the difficulties of survival. He would listen, try and help, and follow up instead of paying lip service. After the first night, he asked to do it again . . . and again . . . and again. It went on like that for a long time. Pete arranged for some of the young men he met to get jobs at the University. He made a concerted effort to help them. All of this happened under the radar. Pete told few people about it. The press never got wind of it. It was not a public relations gambit. It was real.
One night in 2007, a writer from Los Angeles magazine arrived at Heritage Hall to do a Pete Carroll profile. As the interview wound down, the man who drove Pete Carroll around the inner city arrived for one of their sojourns. The magazine writer had no idea what was happening. Pete never talked about, never bragged about what a humanitarian, what a "liberal" he was. There was a brief period of confusion, in which Pete tried to hide what was going on from the writer, but after a few questions it became clear what the coach of the Trojans was up to. Pete relented. He reluctantly invited the writer to ride along, and so he did. When the article appeared late in the season, the cat was out of the bag. When Pete was questioned about it at alumni gatherings, he displayed great knowledge of inner city life; statistics, programs that work vs. those that do not, a true devotion to the cause. It was, like all other things in his life, real.
This is why Coach Carroll succeeds. He has a rare, natural ability to get along with everybody, whether it be the inner city black kid, the suburban blue chipper, the country boy; old, young, rich, poor, male or female. To be recruited by Pete Carroll is to be mesmerized by his charm and truthful qualities, and it invariably means deciding to cast one's lot with this man. Parents instinctively want their children to be a part of the Trojan family.
Pete Carroll is New Age. He is Marin County cool, talking the talk of a surf dude, yet he still has a deep, resonant respect for the traditions of the University of Southern California. He knows the John McKay story. He loves that Sam "Bam" Cunningham and the Trojans went into the Deep South and helped to end segregation. He is proud of the legacy of his school and carries it on. He got to know Marv Goux and took the time to find out the essence of this place, this hallowed shrine. But Pete treats everybody the same, whether you are Marv Goux or a student intern.
Another Pete Carroll story. In October of 2007 I was doing a series of book signings, guest lectures in classes, and speeches at USC for my book One Night, Two Teams: Alabama vs. USC and the Game That Changed a Nation. It was a Monday afternoon in the middle of the season. I went to Pete's office at Heritage Hall to drop off a signed copy of my book, figuring he was busy and I would just leave it with his secretary. I identified myself and asked if he had just a minute to come out and say hello. His secretary entered his office, then came back out and said, "Pete wants to talk to you." I sat on the sofa in the main lounge for a minute or so, and then out bounded Pete Carroll, simultaneously recruiting a kid, planning practice and getting ready for Saturday's opponent. He shook my hand and spoke with me for a few minutes as if I was important. This is not an unusual Pete Carroll story. Everybody who meets him comes away with a similar experience. It is the biggest secret of his success. How he does it, I do not know.
****
This book is not a mercenary effort. I am proud to call myself a Trojan, and more to the point, I am very lucky to be a Trojan. Some years ago I was a professional baseball player with the St. Louis Cardinals and Oakland A's organization with a couple of lackluster years of college "education" under my belt. When the A's released me, I was little more than a college dropout. I had always wanted to go to USC, but my grades, my baseball talents; any way I looked at it, I was a cut below the standard. However, a great Trojan, Dr. Art Verge, helped me put together a package - transcripts, an essay, letters of recommendation, extra-curricular achievements - that I could present to the University in an effort to transfer in. I made an appointment with Delores Homisak, a counselor with the School of Liberal Arts and Sciences. She told me she would take a chance on me; that I could transfer into USC on a probationary status. I needed to make first-class grades in academic course work directed towards a degree in communications. I buckled down, made the grades, and was matriculated. Two years later I had a bachelor's degree. There has always been a part of me that cannot believe I made it, that I have to pinch myself, and that I still do not really belong, but I'm in and I'm not letting go. To me, the four books I have written about the University of Southern California are my way of proving that I am a Trojan!
What It Means to Be a Trojan means being a member of the Trojan family. That family extends well beyond the borders of Los Angeles County and Southern California. For me, it not only extended to but also thrived in Marin County, California. This is Berkeley and Stanford country, but Golden Bears and Cardinal fans are forced to observe proud Trojans within their midst.
It starts, for me at least, with my father, Donald E. Travers. He was a kid in San Francisco when USC played Notre Dame in 1931. The game was broadcast on national radio, a huge event at the time. The Catholic family who lived downstairs had a radio, and my dad asked if he could listen in. The Irish fans cheered Notre Dame and put down the Trojans, liberally interspersed with rosaries and prayers based on the concept that they were, indeed, favored by the Lord. My father took exception to the notion, and when Troy rallied to win, 16-14, he cheered just to spite the Catholic family (who probably never let him listen to their radio again). A Trojan fan was born.
Fast-forward two decades. A star basketball player (Ken Flower) at the same school, Lowell High of San Francisco - where my father at the time was a teacher and track coach - went to USC and starred on the hardwood. His good friend, Bob Troppmann, who had played at Lowell a few years earlier, was a young teacher/coach and colleague of my father's. Coach Troppmann and Ken Flower have been family friends ever since. Coach T was later Pete Carroll's coach at Redwood High.
Fast-forward another decade-plus. My dad was now an attorney and professor at City College of San Francisco. A young junior college superstar named Orenthal James Simpson was doing phenomenal things there, and when he moved on to the University of Southern California, I started following the Trojans with my father. Like crazy.
Another favorite Trojan was the New York Mets' Hall of Fame pitcher Tom Seaver. He represented the ultimate role model in my mind: superstar, New York icon, handsome, intelligent, a well-educated Californian. I loved the fact that he went to USC almost every off-season from 1967 to 1976 in order to get his degree.
I got a full dose of Trojan football long before I ever matriculated as a student. When Anthony Davis went ballistic against Notre Dame in both 1972 and 1974, our neighbors almost called the police, my dad and I went so berserk. In 1978 he and I were in the stands when Frank Jordan's field goal beat Notre Dame, 27-25. I was planning eventually to go to school there, which I proudly informed the attractive young woman sitting next to me at the Coliseum. When Jordan's kick split those uprights I hugged her so hard they almost had to marry us.
A year later I was attending a Thanksgiving weekend party in Marin County when at midnight my pal Dino Lobertini and I decided to drive all night and attend the next day's USC-UCLA game. Every act of serendipity and Trojan good fortune was with us. We arrived in Los Angeles and found my friend Pete Cooper's apartment without directions; found my friend Brad Cole by pure luck; were in the right place at the right time when his brother Darren just happened to provide us with two free tickets like Manna from Heaven; trudged a huge container of "Tony the Tigers" (Vodka, Olde English 800, orange juice) into the Coliseum; and by the time USC stomped the Bruins, 49-14 under a 90-degree late fall sun, I was quite convinced that if God was not a Trojan, He at least had an apartment on West Adams Boulevard. Of course, operating on alcohol and sleeplessness for 24 hours caught up with me, but I still lucked out with a spare bed at Coop's apartment off the Row, where I crashed while a wild all-frat party raged outside the window. I swear that the original Steppenwolf played that concert. I can vaguely remember John Kay singing "Born to Be Wild," but I managed to sleep through most of it.
Redwood High School, where Coach Troppmann was still coaching by the time I got there, has a long tradition of Trojans. The Redwood/USC connection was started by Mike Woodson in 1959. Mike was one of the famed USC Republicans who worked for Richard Nixon, a group that included Donald Segretti, Dwight Chapin, Gordon Strachan and Bart Porter.
In my senior year at Redwood, we were the national champions of high school baseball. Our coach, Al Endriss, the National Coach of the Year one season earlier, had been Pete Carroll's baseball coach and an assistant on the football team that Pete played on. Two prep All-American teammates of mine, outfielder Jim Connor and pitcher Mickey Meister, played for Rod Dedeaux at Southern California. We made a trip to San Diego and played Lincoln High School, whose third baseman was Marcus Allen. Our Joe DiMaggio League summer team played the Long Beach Jets in the state tournament. A former track star at USC coached the Jets, and the team featured both Tony and Chris Gwynn.
Jim Connor led USC in hitting as a sophomore and is now a very successful real estate executive in Westlake Village. His son, Trevor, is a talented, aspiring sportscaster. Mickey Meister was a piece of work. One of the best pitchers in the Pac-10 as a sophomore, the first time I got a load of his act at USC was a happening Thursday night at the 32nd Street Bar and Grill in the University Village. He and All-American shortstop Dan Davidsmeir simply owned that place. Mick was 6-5, 220 pounds and looked like a member of The Beach Boys. He "let" me trail him like a sycophant while he worked the room in the manner of Frank Sinatra at The Sands, walking from table to table where a coterie of blondies who, in my memory at least, all looked like Christy Brinkley, fawned over him: "Hiii, Mickeee" . . . "Mickeee, why didn't you call me?" Meister finally just turned to me, shrugged his shoulders and announced, "I dominate!" Davidsmeir: "Gotta give it to you: you dominate." High-fives. Beyond that I cannot print.
Other high school classmates of mine who attended USC included Darrell Elder (the conference discus champion for the Trojans), Linda Sorgen (whose dad, a USC grad, became head of Pac-10 referees), Peter Cooper (now a corporate executive in San Francisco), Greg Farber (who started the famed "Women of USC" calendars of the 1980s), Jeffrey Cole (now a multi-millionaire real estate executive living in Corona Del Mar, California) and his brother Darren Lee Cole (a leading off-Broadway New York theatrical producer; Killer Joe starring Scott Glenn and Amanda Plummer). Jeff and Darren came from a great USC family. Their father, Jerry (a stockbroker) and mother, Dr. Joan Cole (an educator) were Trojans. Rob Monaco took over his family's video production business in San Francisco.
I was "recruited" to USC by Tony Santino, who had played baseball for Coach Dedeaux (the best man at his wedding). His children, Cara and Tony (who worked for the Golden State Warriors) are great Trojans who went to Redwood. The lovely Jasmine Wittoff went to USC. Dan Andrade's dad, Leo, had gone to USC. Then there is Kevin McCormack, my best friend in the world. Kevin went to his dad's alma mater, Notre Dame, then transferred to USC. Nice.
Later, Chad Kreuter starred on the baseball and football teams at Redwood. He is now USC's head baseball coach, meaning that the football (Carroll) and baseball coaches at the University of Southern California are both Redwood graduates. Jim Saia, who was the Trojans' head basketball coach in 2005, went to Marin County rival Sir Francis Drake. Drake's famed track coach, Bill Taylor, ran track for Jess Mortensen at USC. Then there was Bill "Spaceman" Lee, who was a Terra Linda Trojan before he was a USC Trojan and then a Boston Red Sock. Brent Moore was a football player from San Marin High who played at USC when I was there. He went to the Green Bay Packers.
Then there was Bill Bordley. Bill was from the Palos Verdes peninsula and had been a baseball superstar at Bishop Montgomery High School in Torrance. In 1977 he was 14-0 as a freshman at USC, and in 1978 he pitched the Trojans, considered at the time to be the greatest college team in history, to the national championship. Roy Roth was a Pac-8 umpire who also worked many of my high school games, and when the big league umps went on strike he worked as a replacement. He was a St. Louis Cardinals' "bird dog" scout credited in part with signing me to a professional contract. Roy told me flat out that Bordley was the greatest pitcher he ever saw, at any level; "better than Sandy Koufax!"
Bill signed with the San Francisco Giants but was injured. He lived in Marin at the time and worked out under a strength coach at the local high school, where I met him during his rehabilitation. I later knew Bill at USC, where he was the pitching coach under Rod Dedeaux after injuries forced his early retirement. Bill became a Secret Service agent and in 2000 I interviewed him at length about this transition. That article, "A Tale of Two Pitchers," detailed how USC All-American pitcher Bruce Gardner failed to handle his injury, and Bill Bordley did. I may write a book about it someday.
Any description of Marin Trojans is not complete without mention of my good pal Gary Hendricks, a renowned developer in the county. Gary started at USC but transferred to UCLA, yet remains to this day a total, loyal, dedicated USC football fan. Go figure! This is not that unusual. I do not mean to put down UCLA, but I know several UCLAns who do not have nearly the same enthusiasm for their school that USC folks have for ours.
When I was a minor league pitcher in the Oakland A's organization, we played a Spring Training exhibition game against the Milwaukee Brewers at Phoenix Municipal Stadium. Somebody hit a surefire home run over the right field fence. Bob Skube, a former Trojan star, made what may to this day be the greatest catch I have ever seen, to rob us of a home run.
When I arrived on campus, I had to pinch myself to make sure I was not dreaming. I was, in fact, living my dream. All my senses were heightened, too. I paid attention to everything; everybody I met, all my classmates, famous names, great athletes. The very first person I met when I moved into the Regal Trojan Arms on West Adams Boulevard was Joe Kondash (today president of the Scriptwriter's Network), the roommate of Michael Harper. Harper was the running back who most likely fumbled (but it was not called) while scoring the winning touchdown against Notre Dame in 1982, 20-17. We are still friends. He is a successful businessman in Sacramento, California. Joe introduced me to the second person I met, Terry Marks. My favorite Terry Marks story concerns his first day at the school. An Irish Catholic lad from a large family of Notre Dame fans in Rochester, New York, Terry ventured west sight unseen to play baseball for Rod Dedeaux. His only visual of the campus had been a deceptive video that made it look like Vermont Avenue was the Pacific Ocean strand, complete with song girls. His $40 cab ride from the airport to the campus had him convinced he had been taken "for a ride" into bad neighborhoods, until he saw the Coliseum.
With about $30 to last a month he needed groceries so he went to the 32nd Street Market, but exited the wrong door. Having lost his bearings he ventured several blocks before he realized he was lost on the mean streets of south-central L.A. Gangbangers, predators and homeless bums eyed him. The searing late summer heat, the smog, bus fumes, Copenhagen chew, lack of food and jet lag played tricks on his mind. His vision of song girls, bikinis, Traveler and Fred Lynn banging home runs seemed a cruel trick. Terry began to imagine that he had died and gone to hell, damned by God because he had chosen the glamour of USC over the pious Christianity of his own religion, Notre Dame. Right then and there he dropped his bags and said the Lord's Prayer, then began walking, trusting that God would see him through. 10 minutes later he was safe at his apartment.
Terry pitched for Coach Dedeaux and became my roommate. We put our empty Copenhagen cans on the windowsill, and it eventually blotted out the Sun. Terry was the best man at my wedding, the Godfather of my daughter, Elizabeth, and is today president of Coca-Cola/North America. He wrote the foreword of my book Trojans Essential: Everything You Need to Be a Real Fan! (2008). Not bad so far!
Terry introduced me to another of my greatest lifelong friends, Anthony "Bruno" Caravalho, a baseball pitcher as well. Bruno had played with Jack Del Rio and Randy Johnson back home in Hayward, California. Later he owned the famed 502 Club (California Pizza & Past Company) at the corner of Jefferson and McLintock, next to the Bank of America in the University Village. The "Five-oh" closed in 1993. A Yoshinoya Beef Bowl unfortunately occupies the site today.
Most of my best pals were Trojan baseball players. This included pitcher Phil Smith (today highly-placed in the Los Angeles Police Department). His older brother, Dave took Jim Connor's job from him as the first baseman. Then there was Randy Robertson, who grew up with Mark McGwire in Claremont, California. Randy later pitched in the Padres' organization. Southpaw (it figures) pitcher Bob Gunnarsson would do an act called "the spider" at the "Five-oh." This entailed walking on the palms of his hands. He played minor league ball a few years. Sid Akins was an Olympian in the 1984 L.A. Games (coached by Rod Dedeaux). He was a great talent.
Steve Heslop was a hard-throwing southpaw from the desert. He seemed to be a fish out of water; quiet and unassuming, yet he roomed with the ultimate "party animal," Mickey Meister. Mick, Hes and Kevin McCormack had a pad over at Ellendale, which was a dangerous neighborhood. Hes would just stay in while Mick and Mac would drag Randy Robertson, Alby Silvera, Tony Walczuk, a young Damon Oppenheimer, and Randy Gabrielson (whose dad, Len, was a Trojan great and big leaguer) to the "Nine-oh," the "Three-two" and the "Five-oh." Weekends meant "road trips" to the Golden Bear in Huntington Beach; the hot spots of Manhattan; or Chippendales in Westwood, where we would show up after the male strippers were done and Mick said the girls were "primed." Oh Lord have mercy.
Mark Schultz was a walk-on pitcher for the Spartans, the junior varsity team, but his nose was always in a book. He is a medical doctor now. Pitcher Spiro Psaltis's father had been a star basketball player on the 1952 Trojan Final Four team. I did not know Spiro very well (he finished before I got there), but he was a good friend with Jim Connor and I did drink beers with him one night at the 901 Club.
Third baseman Craig Stevenson was Mark McGwire's roommate about five doors down from mine at the Regal Trojan Arms. He played in the Houston organization and is now an air traffic controller. His dad had played for Dedeaux before a pro career, then becoming a fighter pilot. Outfielder Mark Stevens was another one of those guys from the Robertson-McGwire-Claremont connection. He is an attorney in Newport Beach now.
McGwire was the neatest, most-organized, disciplined college student I have ever known. His girlfriend, Kathy, was a Trojan batgirl. He was The Sporting News College Player of the Year and went on to great fame in Oakland and St. Louis. Randy Johnson was as wild as a March hare. I would love to say I predicted his Hall of Fame career, but I did not. Years later when I was a columnist with the San Francisco Examiner, "The Big Unit" granted me a long, exclusive interview in Phoenix that became a three-page spread in the newspaper. Brian Cohen was no great shakes in baseball, but he became a big-time sports agent working with Dennis Gilbert (Barry Bonds's representative) with the Beverly Hills Sports Council. Jeff Brown, the captain of the football team, was a catcher on the baseball team and a friend. He became the football coach at Porterville (California) High School. The other catcher, Jack Del Rio, could easily have been a Major Leaguer, but the All-American linebacker chose football, eventually leading him to the Minnesota Vikings and the Jacksonville Jaguars, where he is their head coach now.
Basketball player Purvis Miller was a good pal who wanted me to be his agent. I hung out with a lot of football players, too. We were all regulars at the "Five-oh." Quarterback Tim Green was a fun-loving guy. Later we were neighbors in Redondo Beach, California and he loved running into me at P.J. Brett's, because I told everybody who would listen that he was the 1985 Rose Bowl Player of the Game. Today he is architect in Los Angeles. Linebacker Rex Moore was so crazy I was half-afraid to say anything to him. Quarterback Scott Tinsley and defensive back Tim Shannon (son of St. Louis Cardinals' ex-player and current broadcaster Mike Shannon) roomed at the Moon Apartments. Let's just say they were popular with the ladies. Tim became an attorney. I once saw another quarterback, Sean Salisbury, a blue-chipper out of San Diego, arrive at a party dressed in a golf sweater like he was 45 years old. I was told, "He's Mormon," as if that explained it. He played for the Vikings and became an ESPN pro football analyst.
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