The 1960 version of the Holy Rosary Rockets kind of fizzled. Americans in those years were used to fizzling rockets. At QHRS we had high hopes for the 1961 version.

Not really. Most of the decent players had graduated. One of the few good players in last year’s seventh grade class, Bill Locke, moved to a different parish that did not participate in the CYO league.

On the other hand, there were three very welcome additions. Bernie Bianchino was an eighth grader whose family had moved to the parish over the summer. He was big (at least twice as heavy as I was), and he liked football. The new seventh graders also provided two valuable new additions. Bobby Hrzenak was a good runner and all-around athlete, and Jeff Mork could actually pass.

The worst news was that we often had only twelve players suit up for many of our games. The meant that many people, including me, played every play. I was wingback again on offense. I also played safety on defense and returned punts.

Some details are worth telling, but they will make more sense if I explain our offense in a little more detail.

The backs were numbered 1-4. The tailback was 4 and the fullback was 3. The gaps between linemen were numbered 1-8. The ones on the right were the even numbers starting at the center: 2-4-6-8. The odd gaps were irrelevant. Those guys could not block. We had only one play that went to the left of center.

Every play had a two-digit number. 48 meant that the tailback (4) would run around the right end (gap 8). We ran this play a lot because we usually had the defenders outnumbered on the right side, at least early in the game. Later they might figure out that we never went to the left and overload their left side.

There were definitely some embarrassing moments for me. Once I was called on to return a pretty high punt. By the time that I caught it, opponents were quite close. I tried to retreat and run around them, but they caught me, and I lost yardage. My nose also got smashed in the process. I came out of the game for a while, which meant that someone even worse than I was had to play my position.

The other two major setbacks came on a play called 48 Reverse. This play started like a regular 48 end sweep, but instead of blocking, the wingback (me), ran towards the tailback’s right side, and he handed the ball to me so that I could run around the left end.

Now, keep in mind that the guys on the left side of our line could not block very well. So, we almost never ran that way. On the other hand, the defenders on that side were likely just as good as the ones on the other. They had probably been pushing our guys around all day, but they had never seen any action. Then, all of a sudden, this really skinny kid comes toward them, and, mirabile dictu, he has the ball!

I vividly recall one of those occasions. The opponent was St. Peter’s, the school in Kansas City, KS, that I had attended for the first part of first grade. As I took the handoff, I saw two very large kids dressed in green blocking my path. In my mind they were 6’8″ or 6’9′ and very muscular specimens, but that can’t be right. Anyway, they were salivating over the prospect of dismembering me, who still weighed less than 100 pounds. They did not bother to tackle me. One grabbed my right arm, the other took my left, and they made a wish. Needless to say, the ball came free, and one of them recovered it.

We tried this play a few more times over the course of the year. I think that I got back to the line of scrimmage only once. I hated that play.

We also had a pass play that ran off of the same setup, 48 Pass. The tailback, Jeff Mork would run to the right, stop, and then pass. The primary receivers were our two ends, who both ran down field ten yards and then cut to the right. The quarterback would, in theory, make his way through the line, find an empty spot, and serve as a safe target. I went downfield five yards and then cut to the left. I was running away from the passer and everyone else on our team.

We called this play against St. Ann’s, the parish in Prairie Village that was actually closest to where we lived. The head coach happened to notice that I was wide open, but Jeff threw an incomplete pass elsewhere. The same play was called again, and the coach told Jeff to look for me. Jeff held the ball for a while and then got tackled.

We tried it a third time, and this time Jeff saw me and threw a nice spiral in my direction. I caught it and made a sharp right turn. To my amazement absolutely no one was near me. I took off at top speed.

We were playing at St. Ann’s field, where there were no yard markers. There might was probably some indication of where the end zone was, but it was not obvious. I knew that I would look foolish if I ran all the way to the parking lot, but it would be unpardonable if I stopped short of the end zone, and they tackled me. So I just kept running and running.

That was the only score that we made in that game, and St. Ann’s scored two or three times. However, one of the players who carried the ball was disqualified, and so we actually won the game by forfeit. Technically, therefore, I did not score that touchdown, but everyone at QHRS knew better.

Neither Joseph nor Dolley had anything on my three-colored jersey.

The coaches then bought me a new jersey. Everyone else on our team wore dark blue with gold trim. Mine was yellow with one red sleeve and one green sleeve. Seriously.

The jersey helped. Jeff found me in another game, and I scored another touchdown. I don’t remember the opponent, maybe Blessed Sacrament. In the St. Peter’s game he led me just a little too much on a pass that would probably have been a touchdown. I got a couple of fingertips on it, but I could not bring it in.

So, in the two years that I played at QHRS I scored two touchdowns, and the rest of the team scored zero. The other teams scored a lot in 1961, but not as much as the previous year. Our defense improved, at least a little.

In fact, my biggest play of the year came on defense against St. Joseph’s of Shawnee. With only a couple of minutes to play in a scoreless game, St. Joe’s faced a fourth down and goal inside our ten yard line. They called a pass—a crossing route. Both ends were open, but the quarterback threw the ball right between them. One caught it, but he immediately ran into the other guy and fell down as I leapt to try to tackle him. The ball was placed just short of the goal line.

It was now our ball. Jeff called the 48 Pass, and he threw it to me. I gained about thirty yards after I caught the ball. We then ran out the clock to win the game 0-0.