Each day I think of more wonderful memories from the Era of the Colonel. I had mentioned earlier that the 1961 Colonels Cheerleaders had a new challenge -- a Colonel Mascot. There was one thing that could always be said for the Colonels, we were “top shelf.” Other teams might have had someone in an animal costume running up and down the sidelines, but we had a live replica of a Colonel. He would be our "Little Colonel." Ken DeCell was the first fortunate one to be able to hold that esteemed honor. He got to hang out with those glamorous cheerleaders and was the envy of all the elementary school boys. Mascots remained in those positions for a couple of years. Ken stayed until he completed seventh grade at which time another moved into his place. Walter Burnett was the next lucky young man. He served during the 1964 and 1965 football seasons where he rubbed elbows with the likes of Marion Chase, Phyllis Harris, and the beautiful Cortright sisters. When the Burnetts moved, Hollis Carter ably stepped in for the 1966 and 1967 seasons. In those years, Hollis cheered with Vicki French, Beverly Bobbs, Kathy Stewart, and the Walker sisters. Charlie Darden had the honor of being our mascot for the final two seasons, 1968 and 1969. Today, I see his image each time I pick up the Colonel yearbook from my senior year. Although the cover image is a silhouette, I believe I can detect quite a smile since he worked with such beauties as Libby Jones, Susan Perkins, Denise Heigle, and Janice Smith, among others.
Although that 1968 team had been good, it had not won a championship. There was room for improvement. As always when one season was over, we started getting ready for the next. Many football players played other sports, but if they didn’t, there was weight lifting and cross country running during P.E. class to keep them in shape. We would be getting ready mentally and physically for a grueling spring training session.
In the spring of 1969, we would be joined by a good crop of ninth graders that included Marshall Lynch, Butch Newman, and Scott Neeper. Their 1968 junior high Colonels team had been undefeated. As always Coach Cain had done a wonderful job of preparing them to be winners and to be Colonels. It was now expected of him, and Coach Cain never let us down.
During the fall of 1968, Mike Huoni and I probably had been the two worst players on the team. That junior year was one where I had not gotten into enough games to letter. However, for spring training in 1969, I was elevated to first team Center; there simply wasn't anyone else for the position. In all the spring practices, I was pitted against Mike. He and I were very close friends, and we both had worked hard to improve throughout that spring. In our estimation there was only one way to go- up.
Coach Robertson coached the line. In drill after drill Mike and I faced off and neither was able to get a clear advantage. It was a stalemate. Coach Robertson expected me to be able to block Mike. If I couldn't block Mike Huoni, how would I be able to block middle linebackers and nose tackles in the Delta Valley Conference? With each play I could see the disappointment on Coach Robertson's face. However, he offered words of encouragement and kept me as Mike’s opponent all spring. Some plays I would get a good block on Mike and in other plays he would beat the block and get the tackle. I'm sure Coach Robertson thought it would be a long fall season if he had to rely on me as the starting Center.
Spring training was coming to a close. Our upcoming Spring Game offered a chance to showcase next year's talent for the fans. Coaches sometimes would make strategic changes at this point. That was the case this year. For the game, Mike would be moved to a different position. He would no longer be playing opposite me. Another player, one of our better linemen, would have to block Mike. I would be blocking a different player.
The game started and Mike was making tackle after tackle. Coach Robertson was amazed at Mike's performance. With all of his hard work and determination, Mike had become one of the best defensive players on our team. I had a very good Spring Game, as well. I successfully blocked my assigned player throughout the game. It became apparent that as Mike and I battled throughout the spring, we had both improved as players. However, it had gone unnoticed until we were each faced with different opponents.
A few weeks after the Spring Game, Mike and I happened to be playing tennis. Coach Robertson came by the courts and stopped to talk to us. This man that we had felt we disappointed over and over again was telling us something quite different. He told both of us that he was proud of the hard work we had put in during the spring and that it had paid off. During the conversation he suggested we were the two most improved players on the team. I no longer detected any hint of disappointment from him about me being the starting Center. The same was true for Mike. Where he had been Second Team all spring, Coach told him he would be elevated to First Team for the fall. We were two very proud young men as we watched Coach drive away.
The summer of 1969 was different from the prior two summers. There was something in the air. We lifted weights and ran as we normally did to be conditioned for football camp, but this was something more. It was hard to put your finger on. Maybe I sensed this because I was a senior and would be starting for the team. Perhaps that was what made me sense a difference. One thing I know is that I had a different attitude that summer and I detected it in my teammates, as well. We were more focused on the season and more dedicated to the summer workouts. We were able to run our miles in the required time which reflected the work we had done over the summer. In my mind, this team was closer and more supportive of each other than had been the case the previous two years. I ran with Brooks to pace him when he ran his mile. In the weight room throughout the summer we all encouraged one another. This just may have been a change in my perspective, but I truly believe the 1969 Colonels had a special chemistry that started that summer. Although we did not know that this would be the last Colonels team, it was fitting that this last Colonels team was destined to be one of the best.
On Sunday, August 17, 1969 we loaded the buses and headed to Grenada for our annual camp. On this same day Hurricane Camille was approaching the Mississippi Gulf Coast with a vast energy level that was not unlike that of our players. We went to bed that night unaware of the impending devastation that Camille would later inflict up and down our coastline. For our first team practice that Monday morning, we worked out before breakfast in shorts and helmets. There was great excitement, and we were in high spirits. Just as we got back to the camp and had breakfast, it started to rain. That did not deter us, we did our morning practice in the rain; it grew worse. By lunch time, it was raining very hard, and the wind was howling. As I recall, the coaches conferred, and the afternoon practice was cancelled; this was unprecedented. Apparently, the wind and the tornado warnings were the worry, not the rain. So instead, we had "skull practice," a session where we go over strategy, assignments, and duties. Of course, we were also told that we would have to practice extra hard to make up for the missed practice, and that we did. The rest of the week we practiced, and we practiced hard. We even practiced in the rains that were the remnants of Camille. We are Colonels, and we wanted to be the best.
Thursday night was our "Dedication Night." We made solemn pledges to each other that we would be the best we could be. We would place our focus on the team and not on our self. As the ceremony ensued, there was confession of our sins. We all acknowledged that we had not done everything we could to be the best that we could be. Of course, there were players who smoked; they pledged to give up smoking during the season. We all pledged not to take a drink of alcohol during the season. There were a lot of tears, but all in all, we came together as one. By the end of the evening, we were ready for our final day of practice.
That energy that had been so present throughout the week truly came to light on Friday. Our spirits were sky high, and it showed during our practices that day. There was no doubt that we had created something special. It didn’t just happen that week, but it certainly culminated there. We were ready to go home, united as ONE! We are family! We will be the best, and we will make everyone proud!
On Saturday, we got up, had breakfast, and packed to go home. It seemed like any other close to camp. Little did we know of the finality of it all. We had just experienced the last football camp for the Colonels. Fate made us the last Colonels Football team, but no one here knew that, not on that day. Our high continued on the drive back. We were met by our escorts. They came every year. The cheerleaders had made signs and were accompanied by many other fans. They parked along the road waving the signs and cheering for us as we passed. They then would jump in their cars and drive ahead to do it all again. When we arrived at school, there were even more people waiting for us. They came to celebrate and cheer our return from camp. And lo and behold, the cheerleaders were right there in front, leading the cheers. That view from the window of the bus was truly awesome; rather similar to a ticker-tape parade, I would imagine.
The expectations for this team were high. Everyone sensed that this team was special! A unique bond had been formed among the players. It didn’t stop there, though. Everyone came together -- the cheerleaders, the pep squad, the band, and the entire student body. That bond extended into the community- parents, grandparents, former students, and those with no relationship to the team or school. We were all united to make this team the best. The 1969 Colonels were special, as we were all about to see!
by: Kenneth Burns
by: Kenneth Burns
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