I was very pleasantly surprised to receive a piece of correspondence in response to last Tuesday's clippings from Jimmy Mingo's 55-year-old scrapbook of that era's Bombardier hoop fortunes. It came from a longtime friend I've known since my preschool years. Jay Robertson was a pal to my cousin Bobby Smith, who sort of "big-brothered" me for those few hours after his dismissal from Thacher School and before my mother's and grandparent's release from work. I have a vivid memory of seeing my very first "grown-up movie" one Saturday afternoon matinee at the Union Theater. The picture was the (now classic) "Rebel Without a Cause," starring the ill-fated trio of James Dean, Natalie Wood and Sal Mineo.
Jay was wondering why I chose to write up the Tech Tournament experiences of the 1960 Attleboro team, but seemed to ignore the very similar fortunes of the previous year's 1959 squad, which I believe was the year of Jay's graduation, making his argument in defense of his fellow classmates completely understandable. I also failed to include the legendary 1943 AHS Tech Tourney champions, and both for the same reasons.
First, readers must understand that there are numerous writers vying for space within the pages of each daily edition; the rule of thumb works out to be submitting a column of about 800 words. Turning in work of 700-900 words is, of course, completely acceptable, but that 800 should always be the ideal bull's-eye to which your arrow is aimed. Believe me, telling an entertaining tale is in the description of detail, and there are numerous good stories retrieved from memories which simply fail to be done justice in 800 words or less.
Therefore, it must be understood that only when a particular contest or team is given the briefest mention, is it really possible to afford more than one any space whatsoever which would be worthwhile. That is one reason why columns in this space must, by necessity maintain a narrow focus.
Here is the other reason for the exclusion of the the 1959 Attleboro basketball team (a team very close to my heart and vivid in my recollection, ironically). Mingo's scrapbook has no clipping which even mentions them, and that was the source of my research last week. That 1959 team is so close to my heart because it was the first year several of my fellow fifth-grade Bliss schoolmates and I trudged to the Pine Street State Armory (today the Bartek Recreation Center) each Tuesday and Friday evening. It was there where we first saw that intense brand of hoops, coached first by Howard Tozier, later by Jim Cassidy. Those big fellas in their cool blue and white warm-up suits we watched charge down a flight of stairs, through the lobby and between the bleacher seats to seamlessly initiate lay-up drills, these guys were our heroes!
Remember, back then we could follow the New York Giants (no Patriots yet). But over the long cold winter we only got to hear Celtics games broadcast by Hall of Famer Johnny Most, and the Fenway backstop afforded us no proximity to Red Sox action. The pitcher, catcher, batter and home plate umpire looked so tiny on the TV they may just as well have been your uncle Louie and his Saturday night poker partners.
We tarried at the bottom of the Armory staircase hoping for an encouraging word, we raced up Park Street onto Bank after school and worked our way into Bobby's to nurse a Coke and try to pick up on what made our heroes so cool. Jay's classmate and good friend Lew "Tiger" Balser, named to the Boston Record-American Tech Tourney All-Star team, was the big center on that squad and one of our favorites due to his sheer size and dunking ability, which we thought to be very cool.
The talented forwards were three-sport letterman Fran Driscoll, a fellow East-Sider that we all adored, and the talented and cagey Eddie Chase. Jim "Skipper" Duffy and Richie Houde served as the playmakers and set-up men, quarterbacking fast breaks and flawless in their fundamentals.
Yes, the names and faces have undergone countless changes since Tiger, Franny, Eddie, Richie and Skip, but the fiery scrappiness, the alert and opportunistic style, the team intelligence and willingness to ignore daunting odds, all these have been hallmarks of a brand of basketball one could almost say was patented by the Attleboro High Bombardiers.
I'm in possession of some clippings from the mid-'30s which I'm told were recovered behind the wall of an East Side tenement undergoing renovation. I'm hoping to amuse you with some of these items in future columns.
One of the drugstore advertisements from that time touted a particular multi-purpose cold tablet which also featured (ya just can't make this stuff up) a powerful laxative. I can only guess that those cold sufferers that were coughing and sneezing back then just had to take their chances and live dangerously.
Deepest condolences and well-deserved peace to the pond are mostly gifted and talented Philip Seymour Hoffman, a man who learned that coexistence with one's demons will always be a netless high wire walk.
Please be good to one another out there and try to help another each day. Remember those in less fortunate circumstances and work very hard to not sit in judgment. Mammon is driving even good people to desperation, so learn to lean on one another. Peace.
Thomas McAvoy's commentaries appear in this space on Tuesdays.
