By Kendall Smith
It was fall of 1963.
Seventh grade tryouts were scheduled for the Enochs Junior High Bulldog basketball team, coached by a legendary graduate of Mississippi College, Ed Castle.
I thought I was good…at least on the concrete courts behind George Elementary School on South Gallatin Street in Jackson.
My dad, although only 5-foot-8, had been a star player at Jackson Central High back in the late 1930s and had the medals to prove it.
Preparing me for what he hoped to be a similar path, he took me to the old Twin States Athletic Supply on South Lamar Street, (next door to the original location of Al’s Half Shell.) There he purchased me a pair of coveted white canvas high-top Converse “Chuck Taylor Allstars.”
Now understand, this was before “Chucks” became a fashion trend with a cult-like following.
I think they cost my dad around $10.00. I looked it up….in today’s dollars that would be right at $100.00. This was some kind of sacrifice for our family, living square in the middle of the Doodleville neighborhood, near Battlefield Park.
I didn’t make the team!
Too short, too slow, too pudgy.
But Coach Castle knew how much I loved basketball and asked me to be the team manager. And so started my basketball managerial career all the way through junior high and high school.
I never quit wearing my Converse, though. Hundreds of pick-up games followed at George, Enochs, and Central, as well as the Boys Club on Capitol Street and the old gym at the Air Base.
They even followed me to the old “Tin Gym” at Mississippi State. After getting so many holes in them, as well as the putrid stink from sweat-stained canvass, I finally put them in a big plastic bag, zip-tied them, and added them to my ever growing “museum” of my youth.
A couple of years later at Christmas, my parents waited to hand me this huge box. It was the last gift of the day and I think they seemed more excited than me, urging me to hurry up and open the box, rather than slowly taking off the wrapping paper, as I was prone to do to extend the anticipation.
I was speechless. To my amazement, there was the left shoe remnant from my beloved Chuck Taylor Allstars, completely bronzed and with all the holes and shoelaces intact.
To this day, it is probably my most favorite Christmas gift.
It sits today on the corner of my mahogany desk in my office.
As Father’s Day approaches, whenever I look at it, I am reminded of the sacrifices my Daddy made for me and my brother growing up. He never missed any basketball games, even though I was just the manager.
He shelled out $10.00 he probably didn’t have to help me make the team, but he still loved and supported me my entire life.
Happy Father’s Day in Heaven, Daddy……I love and miss you.
