It was basketball tourney time in February 1968. I was in awe of the Bangor Auditorium as our Williams High School team, seeded eighth, took the floor and warmed up opposite top-ranked Orono High School, without doubt the best high school team in Maine regardless of class.
The undefeated 1968 Orono team, led by Peter Gavett and Fred Radke — two future Division I college basketball stars — had trounced the University of Maine freshman team in a preseason exhibition game. Class B Orono had also easily beaten Class A teams in preseason games and holiday tournaments.
Williams’ tallest player was 6-foot, 1-inch Jackie Holmes. Orono’s shortest player was Jackie’s height. To say we were intimidated before tipoff would be a gross understatement. As expected, Orono defeated us 60-25.
Orono’s margin of victory would have been greater had the Red Riots’ coach not graciously sat out most of his starters in the second half to avoid running up the score.
Fifty years later, three events from that game have stuck with me beyond the loss. The first highlight was when my twin brother Don stole the ball and raced downcourt for what appeared to be an easy uncontested layup. It was my first lesson in learning not to be deceived by appearances.
As Don released the ball upwards toward the bucket, Orono’s center Radke,
who later starred at Dartmouth, came up behind my brother and pinned the ball against the backboard. Before landing, Radke turned and fired the ball up court to a teammate for an easy Orono bucket.
My twin’s steal might have been Orono’s only turnover of the game, according to Gavett, whom my twin and I befriended many years later. (I’m also proud to say that Don went on to coach Orono High School’s state champion baseball team in 2017.)
At halftime our coach, Linwood Benner, a Boothbay Harbor native with a strong Maine dialect, gave us a locker room pep talk:
“Boys, Orono’s players are no different than you. They put their jockstraps and shorts on the same way as you,” he said.
Our center, Ned Goff, who grew up in the dairy farming town of Sidney, broke the tension by replying, “But Coach, it takes them fellas longer to put on their jocks and shorts ’cause their legs are twice as long as ours.”
The third thing I remember from this game is how coach Benner refused to concede defeat, keeping starters in the game until the final minute. Then he called his last timeout, sat out the regulars, and inserted substitutes, including me as guard.
Throughout the season Benner had played me very little. For one thing, he was annoyed that I had my own cheering section at home games. When we were hopelessly trailing in games, Raymond Ayotte, my loudest cheerleader in the stands, would yell, “We want Elgin, we want Elgin!”
Elgin was my nickname, chosen by my fan club because they thought I dribbled and skillfully maneuvered with the basketball like Elgin Baylor, an all-pro forward for the Los Angeles Lakers. Unlike the basketball legend, I couldn’t shoot — his second reason for not playing me.
With just under a minute to play in the tourney game, the Orono fans suckered me into shooting the ball by starting to count down: “Ten, nine, eight …’’ Thinking the game would end in seconds, I heaved the ball toward our basket from midcourt. It hit the backboard, ricocheted
off an Orono player, and landed in the hands of our center, who laid the ball in for our final two points. He was fouled, stopping play.
Coach pulled me from the game during the pause and yelled, “Why did you shoot the ball from midcourt with 50 seconds remaining?” I was too embarrassed to explain that I’d been duped by Orono fans.
My friend Mike Downing, watching the televised game back home in Smithfield, fell off his chair laughing when George Hale, calling the game for Channel 5, said, “Oh my, that lad wanted to make the most of his game time by firing from half-court.”
I never played another basketball game. I was OK with it,
though, since I continued to play high school football and baseball.
Like hundreds of former Maine high school basketball players, I consider it an honor and privilege to have played in the old Bangor Auditorium. Orono, of course, won the state basketball title that year. They were one of the best teams in Maine high basketball history.
Writer Ron Joseph is a retired Maine wildlife biologist. He lives in central Maine.