WILKES-BARRE — My favorite scenes in the movie “Hoosiers” are when the team is gathered in the locker room.
Those scenes could have been filmed in the old Plymouth Gaylord Armory, where the Shawnee Indians played their home games.
The similarities are remarkable.
And the teams are similar as well — a group of kids who are fundamentally sound, play tough defense, and are coached by icons.
That was the way it was back then — good teams, great coaches, bandbox gymnasiums, big crowds, and excitement every game.
Basketball was a way of life in Smalltown, USA. Rivalries were everywhere, and buzzer-beater finishes were common.
From the time we could dribble a basketball, we were on the playgrounds looking for a game. From Huber Playground to Doc Savage’s for a competitive game with the Vinnies’ kids, we were always ready.
I can see the red and black of the Shawnee Indians and the red, white, and blue of the Nanticoke Rams/Nans squad. I can see Coach Joe Evan and Coach Syl Bozinski pacing the sideline, shouting instructions to their players. And the legendary John “Snoggy” Mergo was always there with Coach Evan.
I can see PIAA official Pat “Tiger” Denoy smiling and hopping on one leg, blowing his whistle, and calling traveling as the fans screamed.
And that old Plymouth Gaylord Armory, with its fan-style backboards and horseshoe balcony packed with fans. As was the Nanticoke gym, with its pillars in the corners that were in bounds.
Basketball was our outlet. Baseball was our other passion.
But some of the greatest basketball games we played were between our coal-fired stove and the refrigerator with a rubber ball.
The basket was a Quaker Oats box — if you remember, they were round. We would cut it in half and tape it to the wall above the doorway to our spare room.
This was our arena, our Cameron Indoor Stadium, our Madison Square Garden, our Hoosier Gym.
But it served the purpose. We would take that red rubber ball, and the game would begin.
We would fictionalize basketball games between high school, college, and NBA teams. We preferred to stay local, using teams from the Wyoming Valley League, the North League, the Valley League, and the Catholic League. We followed them all via The Times Leader Evening News, and the Wilkes-Barre Record.
We checked all the box scores, and we remembered all the names. And then we would play a game, simulating every pass, rebound, and shot. I think my mom thought we were goofy.
When mom relocated our court to inside the spare room, we suddenly realized we could bounce off the walls and compete like it was a championship game each time.
And because the Quaker Oats basket was a mere six feet above the ground, we could dunk. And we did — a lot.
So I re-programmed the Way Back Machine and headed to the mid-60s and I visited all those great venues — band boxes where high school teams played.
On one virtual trip back in time, I decided to walk down to our old locker room. This was a place where legendary speeches were made by Coach Mergo and Coach Evan. It was a dank, dark place more suited for growing mushrooms than future basketball stars, but it was ours.
Each kid carried the necessities in a rolled-up towel: Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers, a jock strap, shorts, a t-shirt, and wool athletic socks. No gym bags here.
If I close my eyes, I can still get a whiff of the stench of that room. Talk about stink.
And there were other similar gyms that gave the home team a decided advantage, like knowing where the weak floorboards were that would alter the bounce of a dribble. Just name the school and its gym had its particular traits. Whether it be GAR, Kingston, Newport, Ashley, Wilkes-Barre Township, West Pittston, Forty Fort, Swoyersville — and all those Catholic League schools.
But it was always fun. When preparing to play a particular school, part of the preparation was a review of the venue — the gym. We had to know what to expect when we went on the road.
In Plymouth, we had two outstanding basketball programs — the Plymouth Shawnee Indians and the St. Vincent’s Vinnies were always the talk of the town. And not without debate.
I’m sure either school could defeat the other. The players often competed on the courts of Plymouth’s playgrounds or in Doc Savage’s backyard. And the games were always competitive, with both sides able to claim victory, but I can’t verify that.
And there are those memories made only in my kitchen and spare room. Games with results only I have a record of — but very special nonetheless.
It’s not living in the past — it’s savoring it. Each of us has special memories from when we grew up, and it’s good to remember them, to talk about them, and to appreciate those times.
The Way Back Machine exists in each of us — in our minds and in our hearts.
And as March Madness approaches, I’ll be sure to dial up “Hoosiers” more than once.