This spring the state basketball tourney was played here. One of the local kids was drafted by the NBA skipping college. Watching him play and all the news coverage reminded me of 2 boys I wrote about a couple years ago. What follows is their story.

Two Boys

It was the city tournament in South Bend, Indiana. The team of the night
was South Bend Central. Its previous claim to fame was having been where
Coach Wooden (then doing rather well at UCLA) had coached high school ball
at. Tonight the story would be 2 players. They were the stars of this team
for the whole year, but tonight was their greatest combined effort ever.
Their names were Jimmy Ward and Mike Warren. The game was blowout, but the
shooting skill of these 2 players kept the game exciting. Finally with 3
minutes left, the first one scored his 50th point of the night. One minute
left and one has 52 points and the other has 48. A pass from the one with
52 points and a shoot and 2 players from the same team each scored 50 points
the same night. The combined score for these 2 players in the city
championship was 104 points. I forget the team scores or anything else from
that night, but can still see those shoots from all over the court and with
each player double teamed all night long. I have never ever seen anything
like it on a basketball court.

They both graduated. Mike won a scholarship to UCLA. Jimmy didn't have the
grades. A year passed, Mike played on an NCCA championship team. Jimmy had
a kid and had to get married. He had no job, a poor education and lived in
the projects on welfare. Mike played on another championship team at UCLA.
I saw him play against Notre Dame those years and that year, I took a friend
Jimmy to see the game. Mike had always got Jimmy tickets, but their
friendship lessened with distance and time.

Mike graduates and gets drafted by the Detroit Pistons in the NBA. Jimmy
has more kids and does time for petty thefts. Mike plays for the Pistons
this year. Jimmy gets shot in the back fleeing from a burglary attempt. He
was unarmed, but once the cop pulled the trigger, it didn't make much
difference. He was buried in a south end cemetery. Out of all the fans
that cheered him and were entertained by his amazing abilities, I was the
only white person to tell him goodbye.

Mike is now on a TV commercial as a black Marlboro cowboy. Then in A TV
series called Hill Street Blues. Jimmy lies under a weed coverd ground with
a small broken head stone. Chipped above his name is a black panther fist
dug out with a penknife. Remembered now only as a martyr by some people he
never cared about and who didn't give a damn about him until he was killed
by a cop.

The graveyard is quiet and Mike doesn't get back this way often anymore. It
has been a while since I visited and saw in my mind the 2 great athletes
put on their best show ever. I have also lost touch with Mike.

What ever happened to them afterward and where ever they are now, I want
just to take time to say "Thanks" to 2 boys who gave me a memory of a
magical night that I will always treasure.

Wayne R. Crauder