Easy answer for me: I finished in first place, beating out 1.2 billion other competitors in a highly contested race. Some of it was luck, admittedly: the course was dark, wet, and not marked well, and many of my fellow competitors got lost along the way. I raced my little tail off and, at the last moment, lunged forward to be the first to reach the egg.
What was your single greatest play in life so far?
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Last: 6 yr ago by SFCityBear
Wow - catching passes from Joe Roth - that's a lifetime highlight right there.
That's great. Reminds me of the time I was in the 200m in lane 6 and just inside of me in lane 5 was Tyree Washington (20.09 / 44.29 PR) who proceeded to pass me with 130 to go like I was standing still. I think he ran a 20.35 that day. Not a fun race.PTBear said:
Not a highlight necessarily, but my freshman year in HS I ran the first leg in the JV 4 x 400. Because it was getting late, they combined JV and Varsity. Deltha O'neal ran for Milpitas High and was a senior at the time. I was in the outer lane and he was in the inner lane. Passed me before the end of the turn and kept getting farther and farther away...
At least he didn't lap me!
~Spectemur agendo~
I know not many of you care but I speed skated the 200km Eleven Cities race in 1985. In Friesland in Holland. That last time it was held was in 1963 when I was borne. I did it in 8 hours while the fastest guys did in 6 hours or so. It's like running the Boston marathon but you can only do it once every 20+ years...
I think there were close to 1,000,000 spectators. It was one big party.
My captain in the Dutch Army gave me a week off to do it.
I think there were close to 1,000,000 spectators. It was one big party.
My captain in the Dutch Army gave me a week off to do it.
Goobear said:
I know not many of you care but I speed skated the 200km Eleven Cities race in 1985. In Friesland in Holland. That last time it was held was in 1963 when I was borne. I did it in 8 hours while the fastest guys did in 6 hours or so. It's like running the Boston marathon but you can only do it once every 20+ years...
I think there were close to 1,000,000 spectators. It was one big party.
My captain in the Dutch Army gave me a week off to do it.
That's pretty cool. Finally something besides track or swimming. :-)
Vandalus said:That's hilarious and lame at the same time. I talked my fair share of crap on the track, especially after the race, and never once got DQ'd or even really considered it something that would ever happen as long as it wasn't too extreme. I think maybe I got a talking to once or twice by an official, and my coach definitely was pissed with me often in HS for antics, but I've never heard of anyone getting DQ'd for something like that.hanky1 said:
I anchored the leg of my high school's 4X400 meters. It was the final race of the day. Winner of the 4X4 wins the meet. The opposing team was talking alot of trash the whole day and, I'll admit, so were we.
They started off the final leg with about a 8-10 meter lead. I made up the difference on the straight away and heading down the home stretch I easily passed the competition. As I passed him, I turned my head, stared, and yelled out "Where you at?!?!"
We won the race, but the track official saw/heard my display and disqualified our team for poor sportsmanship. We lost the race. And the meet.
I got chewed out by my coach afterwards and for 2 days he wouldn't talk to me. After that, everyone forgot about it and it was business as usual.
I have two good moments, so indulge me. The first was running anchor on my HS 4x200 team. Our lead off guy blew his hamstring at the 150 mark and hobbled in to the first exchange. By the time I took over, I was essentially 50m behind the lead guy - he was at the top of turn, and I was super pissed b/c this was our home relay meet, so I was running angry. Anyway the first 50 goes by uneventfully in my head, but with about 120 to go or so as I am focusing down the home stretch gearing up for my transition off the turn, I realized that I had actually pulled quite a bit on the guy in first and was within 15 meters of the second place guy. 2nd place guy really helped; he gave me someone to catch and kind of changed the goal for me - now I had someone to embarrass.
The odd thing is though, we were all in the #1 lane, but instead of passing on the outside, I just ran to the inside of the #2 guy, and in a move that I will never understand, as I was getting close to him, as if by divine intervention he moved over like someone had waved him to get out of the way. It was like he knew I was coming, but I don't know that he did - how could he? Anyway, I passed him with maybe 20m to go, and at that point things went a little fuzzy. I could tell I was still really reeling the leader in, and I think he either started to lock up or just figured he had it in the bag - or both - and really slowed down. Either way, the crowd was freaking out and I managed to blow past him with like 3m to go almost like he was standing still. I was in a daze and couldn't really understand what had just happened, but I was knocked out of it when I was gang tackled on the track by a bunch of my football teammates who were on the interior of the track.
Other best on the track was not a win unfortunately. It was at Mt. Sac relays and the 100m invite had gone off earlier in the day, with a virtual tie of both guys running 10.18 or something really freaking fast. Anyway, last minute I got tabbed to run anchor instead of my usual 3rd leg, and lo and behold, both of the 10.2 dudes are on anchor as well. When we lined up to get our instructions I'm like "ohh shhhh this could be a huge mistake" b/c I figure, worst case scenario is that I get the baton in first and then get hawked... that is not a place you want to be, especially being the only white dude on the track. I'm just saying..
To make matters fun, they were assigned lanes 4 and 6, and we were in 5; so I'm in the thick of it and the crowd was hyped. Anyway, Gun goes off and we are hanging close, and by the time I got the baton and exited the exchange we were in 3rd place just a few inches behind, with those two guys just a hair in front of me to my left and right. The exchange was at the very end of the turn, so I just remember pulling onto the straight away and thinking, man I'm screwed since I was just a 10.70 guy; but somehow improbably I held even with them - they didn't pull on me one inch. They had a photo finish going 39.99 and we finished in 40.03. I was shocked. Easily the fastest leg I've ever run before; and to do it at Mt. Sac on anchor leg... it was special.
V Man, I think you told me your fastest 40 once. What was it?
Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
Awesome story82gradDLSdad said:
Making Cal's jv baseball team. I hadn't played baseball in 6 years. Everyone said I had no chance, that I was crazy. I worked out on my own for the better part of a year and then was told by Bob Milano at a walk-on meeting that he wasn't keeping any juniors on the jvs and that he wasn't taking any walk-on pitchers. I was a junior, walk-on pitcher. A week before the fall tryout I broke my collarbone. Milano was nice enough to let me tryout on my own after Christmas break. He probably figured he'd watch me and then say no thanks. I tried out in January, threw great, and made the team as a junior, jv, walk-on pitcher. I cried all the way home.
I got one save and pitched 10 innings for the year. My arm hurt every day. Didn't matter. I made the team.
I've had number of good golf shots including three holes in one, 2 eagles from the long shots off the fairway - a 5 iron and a 4 iron. The 4 iron shot was pure luck, bouncing off the side of the bunker and slamming into the flagstick.
Working in New Mexico, I had a major contract negotiation coming up with our of our suppliers of coal to the client power plant - complicated arrangement. So before it started a I took 5 afternoons off for some relaxation and played golf at the local club, a par 72. After the week I had shot 71-71-71-71-71. All very different kinds of rounds, one had 7 birdies, a double bogey and 4 bogeys.
Still have those Hogan Medallion Irons.
Working in New Mexico, I had a major contract negotiation coming up with our of our suppliers of coal to the client power plant - complicated arrangement. So before it started a I took 5 afternoons off for some relaxation and played golf at the local club, a par 72. After the week I had shot 71-71-71-71-71. All very different kinds of rounds, one had 7 birdies, a double bogey and 4 bogeys.
Still have those Hogan Medallion Irons.
I had some moderately nice accomplishments as an athlete but I'm going to mix it up and say coaching my son's middle school hoops team.
To understand this accomplishment you have to appreciate that this group of kids was small, unathletic and lacking any discernable basketball sklls. To call them the Bad News Bears of middle school hoops would be an insult to the Bad News Bears. Yes, they really were that bad. Hell, I had a kid tell me he didn't want to go in the game so he could eat a bag of popcorn. There were others of a similar ilk.
I coached my ass off, schemed like a MoFo, found ways to make things happen. Every kid on the team scored points during the season. We beat the undefeated 1st place team that had boat raced everyone all season. Finished .500 and in 2nd place. I'm here to tell you, Coach K himself couldn't have done better with this group.
To understand this accomplishment you have to appreciate that this group of kids was small, unathletic and lacking any discernable basketball sklls. To call them the Bad News Bears of middle school hoops would be an insult to the Bad News Bears. Yes, they really were that bad. Hell, I had a kid tell me he didn't want to go in the game so he could eat a bag of popcorn. There were others of a similar ilk.
I coached my ass off, schemed like a MoFo, found ways to make things happen. Every kid on the team scored points during the season. We beat the undefeated 1st place team that had boat raced everyone all season. Finished .500 and in 2nd place. I'm here to tell you, Coach K himself couldn't have done better with this group.
NVGolfingBear said:
I've had number of good golf shots including three holes in one, 2 eagles from the long shots off the fairway - a 5 iron and a 4 iron. The 4 iron shot was pure luck, bouncing off the side of the bunker and slamming into the flagstick.
Working in New Mexico, I had a major contract negotiation coming up with our of our suppliers of coal to the client power plant - complicated arrangement. So before it started a I took 5 afternoons off for some relaxation and played golf at the local club, a par 72. After the week I had shot 71-71-71-71-71. All very different kinds of rounds, one had 7 birdies, a double bogey and 4 bogeys.
Still have those Hogan Medallion Irons.
https://www.thoughtco.com/golfer-records-his-51st-hole-in-one-3971649
Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
Wow, this is like a fat pitch down the middle for a story I've been living on for 50 years. My theory is that the scrubs have better (read, funnier) stories than the stars. "Well, I scored 25 points and shut down their best player." Boring. But a true scrub (called scoobies on our team) savors every small morsel tossed their way, and every (or even any) small success is savored. Such was my case when we were playing Edison HIgh (Stockton) and I was guarding their best player, Prentice McCray. He went up for a jump shot and somehow I rose up and swatted his shot into the stands. A shocked silence from both sides. Now, even though I was slightly taller let's just say I did not have good hops. McCray, on the other hand, was a 24' long jumper in high school and was so devastated by my block that he received a scholarship to Arizona St. as a DB and had a decent career in the NFL. Many years later, in honor of my story, someone gave me his football card (which I promptly lost). The story is a running joke with some of my friends but I will admit that I like to trot it out for a fresh audience.
Got slammed on by Muncie in a Harnon pick-up game. Dude had hops.
In high school, birdied 18 at Pebble (admittedly a hole, not a shot).
In high school, birdied 18 at Pebble (admittedly a hole, not a shot).
you winGoobear said:
I know not many of you care but I speed skated the 200km Eleven Cities race in 1985. In Friesland in Holland. That last time it was held was in 1963 when I was borne. I did it in 8 hours while the fastest guys did in 6 hours or so. It's like running the Boston marathon but you can only do it once every 20+ years...
I think there were close to 1,000,000 spectators. It was one big party.
My captain in the Dutch Army gave me a week off to do it.
Totally envious of the once per millenium Dutch skating race.
My best was the Engadine ski marathon, which is held every year. Best shape of my life, weight lifting, roller skiing, no alcohol for a year, no sugar, kicked ass! Fastest ski of my life.
I did take a swing at a guy who stepped on my basket and ripped the pole out of my hands at km 15 or so.
Went right back to the vices afterwards, but it was worth it.
My best was the Engadine ski marathon, which is held every year. Best shape of my life, weight lifting, roller skiing, no alcohol for a year, no sugar, kicked ass! Fastest ski of my life.
I did take a swing at a guy who stepped on my basket and ripped the pole out of my hands at km 15 or so.
Went right back to the vices afterwards, but it was worth it.
in high school, i had a two handed dunk in traffic in a 5 on 5 pickup game on a regulation rim. i was probably 6'0" and 145lbs back then. i don't even think i can touch the rim anymore, or if i could, i'd probably hurt myself.
also did a 10+ stair handrail (skateboarding) in high school. that was scary. almost killed myself doing flatter 8 stair handrail in front of my high school.
more recently got barreled for the first time a few years ago at OBSF. i freaked out. happens very rarely for me.
the older we get, the better we were.
below is Phil Shao. We were at Cal together. He was one of the world's best skaters, and he lost his life way too early. I used to have classes at Dwinelle and look at these handrails and wonder if anybody could hit them. Phil did.
also did a 10+ stair handrail (skateboarding) in high school. that was scary. almost killed myself doing flatter 8 stair handrail in front of my high school.
more recently got barreled for the first time a few years ago at OBSF. i freaked out. happens very rarely for me.
the older we get, the better we were.
below is Phil Shao. We were at Cal together. He was one of the world's best skaters, and he lost his life way too early. I used to have classes at Dwinelle and look at these handrails and wonder if anybody could hit them. Phil did.
Holy cow some of you are (or were) good athletes. I'm not worthy.
Really, I'm not worthy. My moment is so low level by comparison.
Soccer - smallish non-religiously-affiliated private high school in Oakland but the 2 years I was on varsity, we were one of the top 3 teams in our league (more below). I was not a star, but our team had a few. We had good players at center and left midfield and at sweeper. Our center forward was our best player, not tall but super fast with great skills and a rocket of a shot (he later starred for Claremont-McKenna ... yeah yeah ok not that impressive... remember small private high school).
My junior year, I came off the bench at right midfield, played a decent amount. Right midfield was mostly defensive in our 4-4-2 formation (we had a speedy left midfield/winger so we were strong left). I did manage to score 2 goals that season, though one was an easy follow from a teammate's shot that hit the post. We won the league that year but no real dramatic games, then we got destroyed in the subsequent North Coast tourney.
So my senior year, I started. Not really sure why in retrospect - my backup was a sophomore, but was bigger and faster than me and was obviously going to be a good player once he got enough playing time. I guess my coach was just favoring a guy (me) that had put in his time and was a senior. I would often get subbed out during the first part of the 2nd half of games. Only scored 1 goal that season, though I did have a few assists - mostly making a run down the right sideline, crossing it and having one of our talented guys make an amazing play on the ball.
But in the championship game of our league, my backup had the flu. So I stayed in the game and did not get subbed out at the usual time. We were down 1-0, nearing stoppage time. We were pressing to equalize and an opposing defender made a bad clearance which our center midfielder trapped with his chest. He played a perfect through ball to me as the other team ran forward to pull us offside.
Somehow I was not offside. I was barely aware I had made a run. I just had the goalie in front of me. Before I had a chance to either shoot or botch the chance (sneaky suspicion it may have ended up being the latter), I felt my face slam into the turf. A defender had tripped me from behind. It was barely inside the penalty box. The defender got a red card and we got a penalty kick. Our star center forward calmly put it into the bottom right corner and the match went to overtime at 1-1.
In overtime, our right fullback, a good player and an even better guy, had an own goal go in against us after ricocheting off him. Despite being a man up, we lost the match 2-1 (we hit the crossbar twice in that overtime - aargh!!!). He was disconsolate and we rallied around him because he was so beloved. After the handshakes with the other team, our coach and school athletic director gathered us around. They said great effort, no shame, but a loss is a loss almost always, in soccer as well as life.
But this time, the other team (that had just beaten us for the league championship) had played a large part of the season with ineligible players and was disqualified. Never asked why they were ineligible or who it was. But it was surreal - we were going to move on by default and represent our league in the North Coast championships. This time we did far better in North Coast, though we lost in the semis.
Anyway, that was my moment. Getting fouled in the penalty box at a critical juncture at the end of regulation in our small private school league championship soccer game my senior year. In a match we ended up losing, but sort of didn't.
Really, I'm not worthy. My moment is so low level by comparison.
Soccer - smallish non-religiously-affiliated private high school in Oakland but the 2 years I was on varsity, we were one of the top 3 teams in our league (more below). I was not a star, but our team had a few. We had good players at center and left midfield and at sweeper. Our center forward was our best player, not tall but super fast with great skills and a rocket of a shot (he later starred for Claremont-McKenna ... yeah yeah ok not that impressive... remember small private high school).
My junior year, I came off the bench at right midfield, played a decent amount. Right midfield was mostly defensive in our 4-4-2 formation (we had a speedy left midfield/winger so we were strong left). I did manage to score 2 goals that season, though one was an easy follow from a teammate's shot that hit the post. We won the league that year but no real dramatic games, then we got destroyed in the subsequent North Coast tourney.
So my senior year, I started. Not really sure why in retrospect - my backup was a sophomore, but was bigger and faster than me and was obviously going to be a good player once he got enough playing time. I guess my coach was just favoring a guy (me) that had put in his time and was a senior. I would often get subbed out during the first part of the 2nd half of games. Only scored 1 goal that season, though I did have a few assists - mostly making a run down the right sideline, crossing it and having one of our talented guys make an amazing play on the ball.
But in the championship game of our league, my backup had the flu. So I stayed in the game and did not get subbed out at the usual time. We were down 1-0, nearing stoppage time. We were pressing to equalize and an opposing defender made a bad clearance which our center midfielder trapped with his chest. He played a perfect through ball to me as the other team ran forward to pull us offside.
Somehow I was not offside. I was barely aware I had made a run. I just had the goalie in front of me. Before I had a chance to either shoot or botch the chance (sneaky suspicion it may have ended up being the latter), I felt my face slam into the turf. A defender had tripped me from behind. It was barely inside the penalty box. The defender got a red card and we got a penalty kick. Our star center forward calmly put it into the bottom right corner and the match went to overtime at 1-1.
In overtime, our right fullback, a good player and an even better guy, had an own goal go in against us after ricocheting off him. Despite being a man up, we lost the match 2-1 (we hit the crossbar twice in that overtime - aargh!!!). He was disconsolate and we rallied around him because he was so beloved. After the handshakes with the other team, our coach and school athletic director gathered us around. They said great effort, no shame, but a loss is a loss almost always, in soccer as well as life.
But this time, the other team (that had just beaten us for the league championship) had played a large part of the season with ineligible players and was disqualified. Never asked why they were ineligible or who it was. But it was surreal - we were going to move on by default and represent our league in the North Coast championships. This time we did far better in North Coast, though we lost in the semis.
Anyway, that was my moment. Getting fouled in the penalty box at a critical juncture at the end of regulation in our small private school league championship soccer game my senior year. In a match we ended up losing, but sort of didn't.
Anchored the 1979 National Championship Team in bowling for ...
The University of California at Berkeley
That and the trip expenses were covered by the tournament sponsor, Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Raised many a PBR on our return from Milwaukee.
The University of California at Berkeley
That and the trip expenses were covered by the tournament sponsor, Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Raised many a PBR on our return from Milwaukee.
Totally surprising to me, this thread is my favorite all time on BI. I'm still trying to figure out why but one of the reasons are that the stories seem so heartfelt. Getting a glimpse inside folks is truly rare on the internet, I guess. Thanks to all who have posted and those who haven't please do.
Tony
Tony
Walking back in time, two things come to mind in my time at Cal.
As a freshman playing three on three rat ball in Harmon remembering Joe Kapp, having graduated that spring and a third string member of the NCAA team, playing pick up ball while waiting for a contract to play pro football. Typical Kapp, with an injury potentially impacting his ability to sign to play, diving into the temporary wooden bleachers saving balls from going OB. No quit ever in him.
Secondly, in 1961 playing for Bowles Hall and beating the Phi Tau's for the intramural BB championship. At that time the final game was at Harmon and you wore Cal uniforms, gold or blue. The Phi Taus, some of whom had lived at Bowles for a year, had their kegs pre ordered and a sorority exchange in play. Sweet competition. Also played against Morton and Schaub from Putnam earlier that year.
As a freshman playing three on three rat ball in Harmon remembering Joe Kapp, having graduated that spring and a third string member of the NCAA team, playing pick up ball while waiting for a contract to play pro football. Typical Kapp, with an injury potentially impacting his ability to sign to play, diving into the temporary wooden bleachers saving balls from going OB. No quit ever in him.
Secondly, in 1961 playing for Bowles Hall and beating the Phi Tau's for the intramural BB championship. At that time the final game was at Harmon and you wore Cal uniforms, gold or blue. The Phi Taus, some of whom had lived at Bowles for a year, had their kegs pre ordered and a sorority exchange in play. Sweet competition. Also played against Morton and Schaub from Putnam earlier that year.
High School track meet in SF - AAA / WCAL city meet. I got the gold medal in Pole Vault at 13'6" - my best vault at the time. The two best vaulters on my team were suspended for the meet because they were caught drinking on the bus on the way back from the prior meet (they would probably be expelled from school today but then they only missed one meet).
I vaulted better at the state meet and got to 14'6" (almost as good as Alison Stokke) on my very last vault ever, for a solid 15th place finish.
Although this next weekend I am anticipating that my best event will be coming up...I am coaching the Raiders team at the NFL flag football championships at the pro-bowl. If you see the Raiders flag team at the halftime of the pro-bowl that means we made it.
I vaulted better at the state meet and got to 14'6" (almost as good as Alison Stokke) on my very last vault ever, for a solid 15th place finish.
Although this next weekend I am anticipating that my best event will be coming up...I am coaching the Raiders team at the NFL flag football championships at the pro-bowl. If you see the Raiders flag team at the halftime of the pro-bowl that means we made it.
Hand timed 4.3 in spikes on a track, so not exactly standard procedure. If I were timed at the NFL combine I prob would have been in the mid to high 4.40's range I imagine. I always had a much better top end speed compared to my start. It's why I was able to hang with the sub 10.2 guys with a rolling start but they would have embarrassed me if lined up in a legit race.bearister said:
V Man, I think you told me your fastest 40 once. What was it?
~Spectemur agendo~
Thanks for asking. The one I keep replaying is an interception I made while playing varsity football in high school in our Homecoming game against our cross-town rivals. I went to Jr. high with many of their players and that made it a bit sweeter. It was actually a nice interception. I sort of deked the QB into thinking he could complete the pass to their big WR coming over the middle, then stepped up and grabbed the ball just before it hit his hands. Ran toward the end zone, juked a guy and then got slammed to the ground by a big offensive lineman. One of our assistant coaches who played college ball and did not hand out many compliments congratulated me with "That's linebacker play son!" I can and have lived off of that for a long time. Also was in the right place and right time that game to recover a fumble in the end zone for a touchdown. So, basically I was blessed to get an INT, fumble recovery and TD in our high school homecoming game on a Friday night under the lights with a packed crowd.
14'6" is no joke, especially in HS.Oski87 said:
High School track meet in SF - AAA / WCAL city meet. I got the gold medal in Pole Vault at 13'6" - my best vault at the time. The two best vaulters on my team were suspended for the meet because they were caught drinking on the bus on the way back from the prior meet (they would probably be expelled from school today but then they only missed one meet).
I vaulted better at the state meet and got to 14'6" (almost as good as Alison Stokke) on my very last vault ever, for a solid 15th place finish.
Although this next weekend I am anticipating that my best event will be coming up...I am coaching the Raiders team at the NFL flag football championships at the pro-bowl. If you see the Raiders flag team at the halftime of the pro-bowl that means we made it.
~Spectemur agendo~
northendbear said:
Anchored the 1979 National Championship Team in bowling for ...
The University of California at Berkeley
That and the trip expenses were covered by the tournament sponsor, Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Raised many a PBR on our return from Milwaukee.
Jimmy Fodwear and I starred in our high school play about
animals with musical and/or dance talent!
"Jimmy, stop (cough, cough) farting!"
animals with musical and/or dance talent!
"Jimmy, stop (cough, cough) farting!"
Vandalus said:Hand timed 4.3 in spikes on a track....bearister said:
V Man, I think you told me your fastest 40 once. What was it?
Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
MoragaBear said:
What the heck, Doc? 4'6 and 72 lbs in high school?
How far into the 5's and 100's did you make it by college?
1. 2th sitting on his balls
2. 2th doing "net duty".... that's Scott Hafner of Haffner Vinyards
3. College Prep Basketball team bench warmers... the front row is sitting on bench, back row standing on next bench....there's another Berkeley dentist in that pic
4. College Prep BB Team with Coach Steve Desimone.
Great stories all!!
No top flight athlete here. ------ more middle flight. Love all sports and played many. Two stories.
Basketball first. LaSierra HS Sacramento 1965. Fortunate to make the varsity ------6th man. My position on the team was "hatchet man". Our team was small - no one taller than 6'2 " but we were conditioned! Full court press and fast break all game long. We averaged over 70 points per game. League finals and we were down 12 late first half and getting killed by their 6'9 " center. Coach sent me in to do my thing. I'm 6'0" and never played center before. I had 5 fouls to give and used up four of them before I succeeded. My last elbow to his ribs resulted in a fight and got us both tossed. Tide was turned and we went on to win the game!
Best sport moment in my life came as a soccer coach. Under 10 boys. I had been coaching my sons team for three years (no other father volunteered). By then my boys were a welled oiled machine. We were consistantly winning games by 3+ goals. Mid year a Vietnamese boy (Phan ) joined the team (highly unusual but a request by the school principal) His skill level was almost nonexistent. He could only kick with his toe. My son was equally adept with both feet and drew a lot of double and triple teaming when he had the ball. Late in one game I called a timeout and subbed in Phan at right forward and moved my son to center forward. The ploy was to have my son sucker the defense to him then pass back to the right forward who should be wide open. Worked like a charm! Phan had time to stop the ball and line up his kick. The keeper came out to challenge but the ball sailed over his head and into the net. Phan was mobbed by his team mates. The best part was when his father came up to me, pumped my hand and said with tears in his eyes--------------------- "my son is now an American"
No top flight athlete here. ------ more middle flight. Love all sports and played many. Two stories.
Basketball first. LaSierra HS Sacramento 1965. Fortunate to make the varsity ------6th man. My position on the team was "hatchet man". Our team was small - no one taller than 6'2 " but we were conditioned! Full court press and fast break all game long. We averaged over 70 points per game. League finals and we were down 12 late first half and getting killed by their 6'9 " center. Coach sent me in to do my thing. I'm 6'0" and never played center before. I had 5 fouls to give and used up four of them before I succeeded. My last elbow to his ribs resulted in a fight and got us both tossed. Tide was turned and we went on to win the game!
Best sport moment in my life came as a soccer coach. Under 10 boys. I had been coaching my sons team for three years (no other father volunteered). By then my boys were a welled oiled machine. We were consistantly winning games by 3+ goals. Mid year a Vietnamese boy (Phan ) joined the team (highly unusual but a request by the school principal) His skill level was almost nonexistent. He could only kick with his toe. My son was equally adept with both feet and drew a lot of double and triple teaming when he had the ball. Late in one game I called a timeout and subbed in Phan at right forward and moved my son to center forward. The ploy was to have my son sucker the defense to him then pass back to the right forward who should be wide open. Worked like a charm! Phan had time to stop the ball and line up his kick. The keeper came out to challenge but the ball sailed over his head and into the net. Phan was mobbed by his team mates. The best part was when his father came up to me, pumped my hand and said with tears in his eyes--------------------- "my son is now an American"
I hesitate to share this story but it seems at least somewhat appropriate in light of what has been shared in this thread.
Mine would probably be an early December day in 1990, in London, England, before 55,000 thousand fans at Twickenham (England's national rugby stadium), including mother, who had flown over from Los Angeles, and hundreds of thousands more watching on TV, playing right wing for Oxford University against our rival, Cambridge University, in the "Varsity Match."
As prohibitive favorites the previous season, we lost the 1989 Varisty Match to Cambridge. That loss, and many other political and nationalistic factors, resulted in a major internal struggle within the Oxford University Rugby Football Club (OURFC, the "Dark Blues") and ultimately the ouster from the 1990 team of three or four international level players, including the Australian captain and vice-captain.
Cambridge had added a couple of internationals to their side, including a young England left wing, and were now widely regarded as the heavy favorite. About 20 minutes into the match, Cambridge, up 3-0 at the time, had a big attacking overlap to my side. Recognizing that we did not have sufficient defensive numbers to repel the Light Blues attack, I quickly decided to employ an American Football defensive back "baiting" trick and ran directly at Cambridge's inside position fullback before cutting sharply to my right as he wound up to pass out to his teammate, the young left wing recently called up to England's national team. My timing was good and he let go of the ball just as I broke into the passing lane with my arms reached out, deflecting the ball first into the air and then into my hands.
In seven years of competitive football and 16 years of rugby it was extremely rare to hear the crowd roar during a play. Between plays or on the sideline, sure, but almost never as I was focusing on the play at hand. As I caught the ball and began racing the other direction toward our in-goal (end zone), with the Cambridge players running the opposite direction, I actually heard the crowd noise change from a growing buzz in anticipation of Cambridge's expected try (touchdown) to a loud roar at the unanticipated and complete change in fortunes for each team. With only the opposite side wing in pursuit, I won the race to the goal line, we made the kick, and the Dark Blues were up 6-3 rather than down 9-0. The momentum swung to our side and we held on for a 21-12 victory. It's hard to know for sure, but many people felt that this was the play that shifted to course of the game.
Twickenham had just undergone a major renovation with the addition of its new North Stand. Though it would not open to the public until the next England Six Nations match in January, the RFU had opened the North Stand for this event to the press and media, as a trial run before the Six Nations schedule to follow. As luck would have it, my interception had me running north toward the new Stand and a photographer watching from his perch atop the new structure took a picture of me as I sprinted toward our goal, with no other players in the photo. Not often will you find a picture from a rugby game of one player carrying the ball and no other players can be seen. The next day's London Times had the photo on front of the Sports section, with the headline "The Eagle Flies Solo" (I was a member of the USA Eagles rugby team). It won London Times sports photograph of the year.
My Oxford mates and I had a good night, suffice to say.
Mine would probably be an early December day in 1990, in London, England, before 55,000 thousand fans at Twickenham (England's national rugby stadium), including mother, who had flown over from Los Angeles, and hundreds of thousands more watching on TV, playing right wing for Oxford University against our rival, Cambridge University, in the "Varsity Match."
As prohibitive favorites the previous season, we lost the 1989 Varisty Match to Cambridge. That loss, and many other political and nationalistic factors, resulted in a major internal struggle within the Oxford University Rugby Football Club (OURFC, the "Dark Blues") and ultimately the ouster from the 1990 team of three or four international level players, including the Australian captain and vice-captain.
Cambridge had added a couple of internationals to their side, including a young England left wing, and were now widely regarded as the heavy favorite. About 20 minutes into the match, Cambridge, up 3-0 at the time, had a big attacking overlap to my side. Recognizing that we did not have sufficient defensive numbers to repel the Light Blues attack, I quickly decided to employ an American Football defensive back "baiting" trick and ran directly at Cambridge's inside position fullback before cutting sharply to my right as he wound up to pass out to his teammate, the young left wing recently called up to England's national team. My timing was good and he let go of the ball just as I broke into the passing lane with my arms reached out, deflecting the ball first into the air and then into my hands.
In seven years of competitive football and 16 years of rugby it was extremely rare to hear the crowd roar during a play. Between plays or on the sideline, sure, but almost never as I was focusing on the play at hand. As I caught the ball and began racing the other direction toward our in-goal (end zone), with the Cambridge players running the opposite direction, I actually heard the crowd noise change from a growing buzz in anticipation of Cambridge's expected try (touchdown) to a loud roar at the unanticipated and complete change in fortunes for each team. With only the opposite side wing in pursuit, I won the race to the goal line, we made the kick, and the Dark Blues were up 6-3 rather than down 9-0. The momentum swung to our side and we held on for a 21-12 victory. It's hard to know for sure, but many people felt that this was the play that shifted to course of the game.
Twickenham had just undergone a major renovation with the addition of its new North Stand. Though it would not open to the public until the next England Six Nations match in January, the RFU had opened the North Stand for this event to the press and media, as a trial run before the Six Nations schedule to follow. As luck would have it, my interception had me running north toward the new Stand and a photographer watching from his perch atop the new structure took a picture of me as I sprinted toward our goal, with no other players in the photo. Not often will you find a picture from a rugby game of one player carrying the ball and no other players can be seen. The next day's London Times had the photo on front of the Sports section, with the headline "The Eagle Flies Solo" (I was a member of the USA Eagles rugby team). It won London Times sports photograph of the year.
My Oxford mates and I had a good night, suffice to say.
I have two great "plays" neither during a game.
Trying out for JV basketball in high school. During practice I had the ball somewhere between midcourt and the free throw line. The coach just called the practice to an end, when I noticed one of my shoes was untied. So thinking "What the hell?" I threw the ball towards the hoop and knelt down to tie my shoe, looking up just in time to see the ball go through. I thought that was so cool.
Many years later, I was playing golf at the Tilden course in Berkeley. Hole #3 is a par 5, but straight and downhill. I had a decent tee off shot. My second shot was also down the middle of the fairway, but it was a little foggy that morning and I couldn't actually see where it went. So I'm trudging down the fairway looking, looking for my ball but I can't find it. Then as I got close to the green, someone from the foursome ahead of us told me - "Hey here's your ball" (pointing to one on the green) "we took it out of the cup." That's when I learned I hit an eagle for the first (and only) time in my life.
Trying out for JV basketball in high school. During practice I had the ball somewhere between midcourt and the free throw line. The coach just called the practice to an end, when I noticed one of my shoes was untied. So thinking "What the hell?" I threw the ball towards the hoop and knelt down to tie my shoe, looking up just in time to see the ball go through. I thought that was so cool.
Many years later, I was playing golf at the Tilden course in Berkeley. Hole #3 is a par 5, but straight and downhill. I had a decent tee off shot. My second shot was also down the middle of the fairway, but it was a little foggy that morning and I couldn't actually see where it went. So I'm trudging down the fairway looking, looking for my ball but I can't find it. Then as I got close to the green, someone from the foursome ahead of us told me - "Hey here's your ball" (pointing to one on the green) "we took it out of the cup." That's when I learned I hit an eagle for the first (and only) time in my life.
My first Juco baseball game would be my best sports moment. My roommates were playing on the basketball team and would tell everyone at school I was this hotshot future juco All American, anything to get the girls at the time. I invited two girls to watch my first game, knowing they heard all these made up stories about me. I went on to go 2 for 3 with 2 HRs, one clearing the 375ft sign in left center by about 50 feet and the other to dead center on a line clearing 400ft sign. Let's just say the girls were impressed. As a 6' kid at 175lbs. Coach told me I was pound for pound the best power hitter he's ever coached.
So what did you end up dating either (or both) of the two girls? Don't leave out the juicier details now...ayetee11 said:
My first Juco baseball game would be my best sports moment. My roommates were playing on the basketball team and would tell everyone at school I was this hotshot future juco All American, anything to get the girls at the time. I invited two girls to watch my first game, knowing they heard all these made up stories about me. I went on to go 2 for 3 with 2 HRs, one clearing the 375ft sign in left center by about 50 feet and the other to dead center on a line clearing 400ft sign. Let's just say the girls were impressed. As a 6' kid at 175lbs. Coach told me I was pound for pound the best power hitter he's ever coached.
Thanks for asking. Can't resist sharing. And I'm glad you asked, because I realize I've never put this story down on paper... sorry if it's TLDNR.
The 1989 Stanfurd Criterium. Collegiate cycling weekend events usually consist of a road race, a criterium and a time trial. Well, the criterium's technical course through campus with a hairpin turn was just to my liking! Cal Cycling makes a great showing in the A field. We have a lot of riders in the peloton. I'm feeling GREAT and move to the front and push the pace. The technical course strings the peloton out. A Cal Cycling teammate is up front with me, riding strong.
As we keep pushing the pace, we realize we have a gap on the main group. My teammate and I and two other riders find ourselves in a four man breakaway. "Nice!" We all work well together taking turns at the front. However, my teammate keeps coming into the hairpin turn REALLY fast. I yell out to him, "Dude, take it easy! We have a good gap, don't take crazy risks!" Well, a few laps later guess who washes out in the hairpin? You guessed it! Crap, just lost my teammate
Well, luckily race promoters often give a "one free lap" rule in criteriums, and this rule was in effect. If you flat, have a mechanical, or crash, you can jump back in where you were if you can make it back to start/finish within a certain amount of time. Luckily my teammate was unhurt, bike unscathed and able to jump back in with us. "Welcome back!!!" I said. After which I added, "I TOLD you to take it easy on the hairpin!!!"
Well, we traded off prime wins throughout the race, giving Cal a lot of points. We were flying through the course - albeit a bit slower at the hairpin! As we continued our brisk pace, we eventually began seeing riders in front of us. "Cool, we're catching riders!" Well, it isn't THAT big a deal to catch riders off the back in a crit, so it wasn't that amazing. Well, after working our way through several struggling riders, we came upon a large group. "Ha! It IS the main group! We've lapped the field!" F*** YEAH!!!!!
Man we were SO psyched! Two Cal riders lapping the field on a technical course on the Stanfurd campus. How sweet it is!!! I'll never forget the feeling of approaching riders from behind and seeing the surprise on their faces. Although many felt dejected to have been lapped, the majority were gracious in letting us work our way through the main group so we could contest the finish as a four-man group.
Well, my teammate and I were wondering, "So, who are these two riders with us? Are they sprinters? Have they been hanging in and saving energy, just to destroy us on the bell lap?" Well, we couldn't really know. We had spent so much time working on staying away from the main field that we hadn't sized up our break away competition.
My teammate realized I was riding strong and said, "Hey, I'll lead you out!" which meant he'd let me contest the sprint finish with the two others. So he got in front as we passed start/finish for the penultimate time and turned on the gas. Our compatriots stayed in third and fourth position through the last lap. He kept the lead and the gas on throughout the course as we rounded the last corner. I came around in my sprint and won going away. Yahooo! (Turns out the two other riders weren't sprinters and never contested the finish.)
Cal Cycling takes 1-2 in the Men's A's criterium. The A's race win with all the primes guarantee's a team victory for the weekend's racing. Ahhh, a great day for Cal on the Stanfurd campus!
Post Script: My teammate and I found ourselves in the virtually same position at Western Regionals in Santa Barbara: He and I, the same rider from Saddleback College, and one other took advantage of the technical course and succeeded in a four man break. We couldn't believe we were in almost the exact same position as at Stanfurd. I returned my teammate's favor and led him out for the win! (He had recovered from cancer the previous year, so it was extra special for him.)
We went to nationals that year, finishing second to CU Boulder. CU Boulder just happened to have an ex-skier on their team named Juliana Furtado! She dominated the field and won it for them and then went on to become the 10-year reigning women's mountain bike world champion!
I thank my lucky stars for the opportunity to race for Cal. Collegiate bike racing was wonderful and have such wonderful memories from then. One more memory: Wobbling up Addison to the group ride at Sproul after a night of drinking; were were SO hungover! My roommate's immortal words, "This is MOST non-triumphant!" Ahh, good stuff!
Thanks for letting me share.
The 1989 Stanfurd Criterium. Collegiate cycling weekend events usually consist of a road race, a criterium and a time trial. Well, the criterium's technical course through campus with a hairpin turn was just to my liking! Cal Cycling makes a great showing in the A field. We have a lot of riders in the peloton. I'm feeling GREAT and move to the front and push the pace. The technical course strings the peloton out. A Cal Cycling teammate is up front with me, riding strong.
As we keep pushing the pace, we realize we have a gap on the main group. My teammate and I and two other riders find ourselves in a four man breakaway. "Nice!" We all work well together taking turns at the front. However, my teammate keeps coming into the hairpin turn REALLY fast. I yell out to him, "Dude, take it easy! We have a good gap, don't take crazy risks!" Well, a few laps later guess who washes out in the hairpin? You guessed it! Crap, just lost my teammate
Well, luckily race promoters often give a "one free lap" rule in criteriums, and this rule was in effect. If you flat, have a mechanical, or crash, you can jump back in where you were if you can make it back to start/finish within a certain amount of time. Luckily my teammate was unhurt, bike unscathed and able to jump back in with us. "Welcome back!!!" I said. After which I added, "I TOLD you to take it easy on the hairpin!!!"
Well, we traded off prime wins throughout the race, giving Cal a lot of points. We were flying through the course - albeit a bit slower at the hairpin! As we continued our brisk pace, we eventually began seeing riders in front of us. "Cool, we're catching riders!" Well, it isn't THAT big a deal to catch riders off the back in a crit, so it wasn't that amazing. Well, after working our way through several struggling riders, we came upon a large group. "Ha! It IS the main group! We've lapped the field!" F*** YEAH!!!!!
Man we were SO psyched! Two Cal riders lapping the field on a technical course on the Stanfurd campus. How sweet it is!!! I'll never forget the feeling of approaching riders from behind and seeing the surprise on their faces. Although many felt dejected to have been lapped, the majority were gracious in letting us work our way through the main group so we could contest the finish as a four-man group.
Well, my teammate and I were wondering, "So, who are these two riders with us? Are they sprinters? Have they been hanging in and saving energy, just to destroy us on the bell lap?" Well, we couldn't really know. We had spent so much time working on staying away from the main field that we hadn't sized up our break away competition.
My teammate realized I was riding strong and said, "Hey, I'll lead you out!" which meant he'd let me contest the sprint finish with the two others. So he got in front as we passed start/finish for the penultimate time and turned on the gas. Our compatriots stayed in third and fourth position through the last lap. He kept the lead and the gas on throughout the course as we rounded the last corner. I came around in my sprint and won going away. Yahooo! (Turns out the two other riders weren't sprinters and never contested the finish.)
Cal Cycling takes 1-2 in the Men's A's criterium. The A's race win with all the primes guarantee's a team victory for the weekend's racing. Ahhh, a great day for Cal on the Stanfurd campus!
Post Script: My teammate and I found ourselves in the virtually same position at Western Regionals in Santa Barbara: He and I, the same rider from Saddleback College, and one other took advantage of the technical course and succeeded in a four man break. We couldn't believe we were in almost the exact same position as at Stanfurd. I returned my teammate's favor and led him out for the win! (He had recovered from cancer the previous year, so it was extra special for him.)
We went to nationals that year, finishing second to CU Boulder. CU Boulder just happened to have an ex-skier on their team named Juliana Furtado! She dominated the field and won it for them and then went on to become the 10-year reigning women's mountain bike world champion!
I thank my lucky stars for the opportunity to race for Cal. Collegiate bike racing was wonderful and have such wonderful memories from then. One more memory: Wobbling up Addison to the group ride at Sproul after a night of drinking; were were SO hungover! My roommate's immortal words, "This is MOST non-triumphant!" Ahh, good stuff!
Thanks for letting me share.
In 7th grade, I hit a last-second game-winning shot from about halfway between the half-court line and the other team's free throw line. I threw it baseball-style and it went in to break the tie and win the game.
My athletic career went straight downhill from there.
My athletic career went straight downhill from there.
chalcidbear said:
I have two great "plays" neither during a game.
Trying out for JV basketball in high school. During practice I had the ball somewhere between midcourt and the free throw line. The coach just called the practice to an end, when I noticed one of my shoes was untied. So thinking "What the hell?" I threw the ball towards the hoop and knelt down to tie my shoe, looking up just in time to see the ball go through. I thought that was so cool.
Many years later, I was playing golf at the Tilden course in Berkeley. Hole #3 is a par 5, but straight and downhill. I had a decent tee off shot. My second shot was also down the middle of the fairway, but it was a little foggy that morning and I couldn't actually see where it went. So I'm trudging down the fairway looking, looking for my ball but I can't find it. Then as I got close to the green, someone from the foursome ahead of us told me - "Hey here's your ball" (pointing to one on the green) "we took it out of the cup." That's when I learned I hit an eagle for the first (and only) time in my life.
Eagles are ho-hum. If you scored a 2 on a par 5 you made a double eagle or albatross. Those are the rarest of rare golf scores. Congrats. But you really need to get that right in your story.
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