Across the Grounds with Steven Brindle: Days Past

“Have fun but work hard starting now!” was the advice my parents gave shortly after Labor Day, 1969, as we arrived on Grounds. They helped me unpack my scant wardrobe at 108 Lefevre, my 1st-year college home away from home, accented by pea-green cinder block and matching steel twin bed and desk. Blue books and #2 pencils preceded laptops and AI by decades. The upside was having Harry, the DuPont Scholar, as my roommate so as to keep the Academical Village within sight. Not exactly an executive suite nor bombshell parental advice, huh?

I was there to play Cavalier baseball (before fire, the wheel, and “Hoos” were invented), but there was no red carpet… no car or bus to ferry me to classes and back. Meals (?) were served at Newcomb Hall cafeteria, where it seemed that leftover leftovers began to look like biology experiments! Perhaps I’m being a bit harsh, but rumors spread that it was an Honor Code violation to take cafeteria food back to the dorms. The question loomed: WHY would you WANT to walk out that door with a doggy bag?

I quickly discovered that only scholarship football and basketball players received room and meal allowances — that non-scholarship, non-revenue-producing athletes paid the same dime as the next in line.

Beyond the 1st-year dorm residence requirement, upperclassmen could remain, join a Greek house, or find buddies to share private apartments with. If you were as poor as a church mouse like this blogger, another option was available for non-revenue athletes. Off the Mem Gym 2nd-floor running track and through the double doors lay several rooms of bunk beds for baseball, soccer, lacrosse, wrestling, swimming, golf, and tennis players of note. Showers were two stories below. Culinary magic came to life as Hamburger Helper on a one-burner hot plate. Very primitive sleeping quarters, yes, but something could be said for having use of a gymnasium and swimming pool at 3 A.M.!

(In 1970, only nascent intramural play was available to our first women enrollees. It was also a noteworthy year for the University and for five very special student-athletes named Kent, Harrison, Stanley, John, and Al.)

Airplanes had been invented, but non-revenue sports could only see them in pictures. Our ancient team bus, held together by baling wire, was the sole source of Hoos travel for the “little guys.” In several instances, Jim West’s baseball team shared seat space with Gordy Burris’s tennis team.

The accounting above may seem like sour grapes, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I wouldn’t trade my experience for anything. I couldn’t be happier for the Hoos’ present-day successes. Fifty-five years ago, we lived uncomplicated lives with two old unis, no revenue sharing, no NIL, no transfer portal as we know it today, no DH, no aluminum bats, no team academic advisors — just a jug of Gatorade on a long splintery bench in lieu of a dugout. Despite occasional stressful moments on both sides of the white lines, the baseball experience felt VERY special, culminating in the 1972 ACC Championship — the first in the previous 83 years.

The deafening freight train horn beyond the left field fence, the outfield wooden snow fence that could be scaled or run through, and the meager crowds were the understood norm. Lambeth Field’s occasional empty beer cans and Chinese food boxes were left by the two dozen careless frat boys who were that game’s attendance.

While Coach O’Connor’s sudden departure for Starkville along with staff and many roster stars was disheartening, new Hoos coach Chris Pollard has hit the portal running and is returning like favors by bringing standout Blue Devils with him. Not unlike Ryan Odum pounding the pavement for the best of the b-ball portal, rosters are being filled with game changers.

Relative to their Hoos employment packages, both coaches will enjoy more take-home pay and facilities that may look more like a candy store! It’s perfectly clear that Carla wants winners — not athletic teams that try hard but fall short. Whether in revenue or non-revenue sports, I’m confident that every Hoo gladiator is giving 110% effort that will hopefully fill more seats and win us a Learfield Trophy.

The goal? Convert non-revenue sports to money makers.