The S-O-Bs
A Bench Warmer Memory from Karl Svatek
Bench-warmers form a tight bond. They're together throughout a season, working and sweating just has hard as the regulars and finding camaraderie while the coach is gesticulating and yelling and encouraging his "real" players. My high school basketball experience found me with two of my fellow juniors, Charlie and Mags, anchored at the end of the bench each game day, seemingly forgotten by the coach, ignored by the cheerleaders and, frankly, bored at times.
We played for Seton High in Endicott, N.Y., the smallest school, by far, in a conference of competitive teams. We held our own, finishing 8-10 before winning the sectional title against schools more our size. Still, the biggest schools had their way with us, so Charlie, Mags and I had a lot of time to ourselves far from the coach's view.
We called ourselves the S-O-Bs -- the Sitters-Of-the Bench -- and we vowed early on that we would create our own entertainment and make the season memorable.
One of our favorite ways to pass time during lopsided games was to choreograph our movements. We'd agree to rest our left feet on our right knees, for example, then change to the opposite look on cue. Or, bend forward, rest our elbows on our knees and clasp our hands together in front of us, all in unison. We had fun, and I think some of our fans even noticed.
One time, we decided to wear strange socks, and I must say I was the winner here. We even got to play late in the game -- the score must have been 158-27 or something -- and I can remember feeling self-conscious as I peeled off my warmup pants. There, in full view, were my two pairs of socks featuring four different color stripes, none matching our Royal blue uniforms. As I guarded an opponent out of bounds for an inbounds play, I even heard one of their fans yell, "Look at that guy's socks!" A rare moment of recognition that probably distracted me enough to allow my man to score an uncontested layup.
The highlight had to be the final home game of the season. It was tradition on our team that the entire roster, not just the starters, would be introduced before the game. So, I told Charlie and Mags that we should all pick a favorite player to imitate for our run out to center court. The only proviso was that we couldn't just pick any NBA star like Willis Reed or John Havlicek. It had to be a player whose trot out to center court for pre-game introductions was unique or, better yet, just plain funny.
I don't recall, which player Mags chose, but Charlie opted to imitate Jim McDaniels. McDaniels was a prolific 7-footer who had made a name for himself by carrying Western Kentucky -- Western Kentucky! -- to the 1971 Final Four before embarking on a less-than-stellar pro career. But what qualified him for imitation by the S-O-Bs was his loopy, lengthy strides as he trotted out for pregame introductions. Think combination of Maynard G. Krebs and the Pink Panther to get an idea of how he moved.
I chose Freddie "Mad Dog" Carter. Carter was a rugged 6-3 guard out of Mount St. Mary's (always loved that name!) who was early in his pro career with the 76ers. He moved like Edgar Buchanan when it came time to join his teammates for introductions, taking exceptionally short jogging strides while keeping his arms tight to his torso as they moved exaggeratedly up and down -- but not forward and back -- with each stride. It looked like a two-footed limp.
I was certain my imitation was spotless, although the illusion of thinking that everyone in the gym would know what we S-O-Bs were up to was shattered after the game when one of the cheerleaders deigned to speak to me and said her mother had asked, "What's the matter with Karl. Do his feet hurt?"
I don't remember the final score or even whether we won the game, but that's a memory that endures. I was a real S-O-B!
Karl’s eventual bench became the news room of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, where he served as Deputy Sports Editor.
Karl’s eventual bench became the news room of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, where he served as Deputy Editor.
