Where’s Charlie?

A Bench Warmer Memory from Bob Cairns

Remember those high school basketball games when the score got so lopsided that the coach felt compelled to put the little fat benchwarmer in, the one who—to the hoots of the fans—would play down the clock through garbage time?

I was that hefty benchie! 

But in 1961, as the Frances Scott Key Eagles (Uniontown, Maryland,) prepared to face North Carroll our rival and the team that could knock us out of a trip to the University of Maryland to play for the State Championship, this little fat guy had the biggest assist of his career. On the Monday before that must-win Friday night home game, Charlie Duppins, our star forward (the only player in those years to ever dunk a basketball during game play in Carroll County Maryland history) got caught smoking in the men’s room by Hank Kanowitz, our principal, and was promptly tossed out of school and off the team for the week. 

Doom and gloom.  

The news spread like wildfire. There wasn’t a high school basketball fan in that area of Maryland that didn’t know Charlie had been given the boot and would not be suiting up for one of the biggest games in our school’s history. The principal was booed openly in FSK’s Thursday morning pep rally, and parents tried to intervene; our coach Harry Lambert finally threw himself on the mercy of the court, attempting to plea bargain a deal that would sit Charlie for the two games following the North Carroll game. 

Kanowitz wouldn’t budge!  

On game day Friday during the morning announcements, my name was called over the school’s speaker system. The request that I report to the principal’s office didn’t exactly send chills down my spine. I wasn’t just a rather bad basketball player, but as the senior class clown, I was somewhat of a “bad actor,” always in trouble for something. I sat patiently in the waiting room outside the principal’s office preparing my “Now what?” speech. But when I walked in, Mr. Kanowitz simply looked over those clear rimmed glasses of his and said, “Coach Lambert’s office, now!” 

Coach Lambert had a pet name for everyone. Mine was Beetle which I think may have had something to do with a TV cartoon that was popular at the time, one that featured a chunky little insect sporting rather thick dark rimmed glass. I cruised into Coach Lambert’s office, and he stood, closed the door behind me and said, “Beetle, if you breathe a word of this, I’ll take your uniform, and you’ll be off the team for the rest of the year. Understood?”

Now, Harry Lambert, who was one hell of a basketball coach, was very cunning way ahead of his time with a reputation for shutting down opposing teams with his junk defenses; the box and one, the triangle and two, etc. But today he had the game plan of his life, and he’d called me off the bench to help him pull it off. 

Although I never learned the details of the deal, he made with the powers that be, he informed me that Charlie would play on Friday night and that no one, except Kanowitz, and I knew it. They hadn’t even told Charlie and wouldn’t until the late Friday with a phone call to his home where he was serving out his time.  Of Charlie’s bad habits, smoking and keeping secrets were high on the list. Coach Lambert’s plan was simple but well thought out.  

Here’s how it worked.  

On Friday evening at approximately six o’clock under the cover of darkness, I would unlock the back door to our locker room and admit one Charles Duppins. He would remain there throughout the junior varsity game. I would join the rest of the varsity in the stands for the JV game as North Carroll was well aware that there would be no Charlie tonight. That said, their coach Chuck Ecker knew Lambert all too well, and so to eliminate any suspicion, the varsity team would be seated very prominently in our stands during the JV game (without Charlie) and not make our pre-game trek to our locker room to suit up until Coach Lambert gave me the sign. When their varsity arrived and took their seats, we could see them craning their necks checking us out.  

No Charlie!   

As planned, I waited until the last minute then led our team to the locker room. When North Carroll saw us go, counted heads and were assured that there was one not among us, they made their move and headed to their locker room. While Coach Lambert stayed behind to coach the JV, I positioned myself inside our locker room door and held my finger to my lips as our players entered. The last thing we wanted was to have North Carroll hear an explosion as our players discovered what was stretched out in uniform on the training table palming two basketballs.

Then we played a waiting game. Following the JV game, we let North Carroll warm up a full five minutes before (decked out in our red, white, and blue silk sailor collared warm-ups) came bursting out of the locker room door and through that big paper hoop sporting the letters FSK. The captain Weller came first, then Story, Hollingsworth, etc. etc. Both grandstands stood as one. North Carroll’s team warm-ups stopped dead.

No Charlie!

Great relief from the North Carroll team. They went back to the business at hand as we went through our pre-game ritual lay ups left, lay ups right, down the middle, break for jump shots with starters coming out of their warm-ups, shooting foul shots and taking last minute stretches.

When the big scorer’s clock counted down to one minute, it buzzed both teams to their benches. I, as planned, scooted out and helped the managers gather stray basketballs. When I picked up the last ball, Coach Lambert, waiting until the gym was silent, shouted, “Hey, Beetle, where’s Charlie?” I took the ball, threw a perfect overhand pass, hitting the locker room door dead center. The door burst open and out he came, all arms and legs. I short hopped the ball as it caromed off the door, hit Charlie with a marvie little bounce pass. He took two crow hops and jammed the ball through the hoop to a thunderous ovation, one that shook not only the rafters but North Carroll, a team that stood dumbfounded, knowing that they’d just witnessed the winning basket in a game that hadn’t begun.

And yes, we beat them soundly that night. Then went all the way to the state finals that year due to, at least by this little benchwarmer’s memory, an incredible “slam dunk” game plan and one hell of an assist from me.