Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
Check out the earlier parts first if you haven’t yet!
After getting his college degree at Humboldt State (Calif.) – Giants and A’s country, incidentally – my baseball-loving son Danny moved away to Tallahassee, Florida. Master’s degree. Marriage to Sara. Job. Career. A son, Elliott. While he claimed that his baseball interests died a little because he had no one around to share it, I’d long suspected that baseball’s PED controversies chipped away at how he viewed baseball.
“I don’t think it’s fair, Dad, that those guys are kept out of the Hall of Fame.”
I blame the unfairness and ineptitude of the media for killing Danny’s baseball love. I think he does, too.
Danny, plus my youngest son, Chet, aren’t advocating PED use. All they see is a widespread dose of unequal justice. They see media corruption. In other words, the players didn’t do any more wrong than the media did in failing to properly cover the corruption. How can they be allowed into the selection process when they failed at their own reporting assignments?
By voting those same players – Sammy Sosa, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, et al – as MVP or Cy Young winners, that fraternity of media was also part of the problem. It’s some of the more disgusting acts of hypocrisy. Many held out their votes for the Hall of Fame.
Many of those media types show up on TV, or as columnists, or on blogs, nodding, saying, “See? See? We told ya.”
They watched Verducci, “Game of Shadows” and Jose Canseco break the stories, or write their books. In effect, they got scooped. They piggy-backed on their research to stand up against PED users.
Maybe Jose Canseco was as much of a hero off the field as he was on the field – using PED, then later confessing to the process. (Photo by Wikipedia Commons)
Where were they when it counted? As sports editor of a small-city newspaper, I relied on their expertise and frontline coverage to properly present readers with stories. I wasn’t in MLB clubhouses like they were.
They’re not guardians of the Hall of Fame gates as they proclaim themselves. In fact, it wasn’t until after all of those golden on-field moments took place when they took action. Too late.
It’s a simple fact for Danny: Baseball’s over, at least in his mind. The sport has lost a fan.
Chet continues to surge ahead. His love for the game continues. His disgust for the Hall of Fame criteria, however, has increased. For the media. For the Hall voters, he’s spewing out total acrimony. Each January for the past few years, Chet seethes over the perceived injustice.
My son, Chet, doesn’t like the current Hall of Fame practices, but he still loves the game.
He questions Selig’s own 2017 induction, claiming that it was under his watch that baseball’s PED involvement had surged to unforeseen heights.
How dare Selig be allowed in while Bonds, among others, has been kept out. If the media, Commissioner’s office, not to mention each team had done its respective jobs, PED usage would’ve been exposed early enough and, perhaps, stamped out.
I don’t think Chet’s the only one that feels this way.
Previous Hall inductees Bobby Cox, Tony La Russa and Joe Torre should’ve and could have known. La Russa fronted for McGwire with the media. He took up on McGwire’s side, pushing away media that dared to assault the single season HR record holder. For years, too.
Until McGwire confessed.
Torre and Cox, too, had guys in their clubhouses – Sheffield, Canseco, Man-Ram, A-Rod, plus others – that enhanced their playing efforts by using PED. World Series championships were claimed with “dirty” players on their rosters.
Weren’t those managers also part of the problem? Let’s give them benefit of the doubt.
Perhaps they didn’t encourage PEDs. But it was happening under their very noses. In their clubhouses. Did nothing to help clean up their sport.
Somehow, they all got a Hall pass to Cooperstown.
You almost get tired of hearing the refrain from voters, or the observers that don’t have a vote but want to interfere.
“Bonds was on his way to the Hall of Fame until 1998. But …”
There is no “but.”
What’s left is a mess. Millions like Danny and Chet continue to, perhaps, fret at the notion that suspected PED users Jeff Bagwell, Mike Piazza and Ivan Rodriguez have been inducted. Meanwhile, some of baseball’s brightest stars have been left out.
It’s a deeply personal conclusion to a saga that won’t go away.
Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
If you haven’t yet, check out parts 1 and 2 first!
Like baseball fans throughout the world, the Hall of Fame means something in my household. When one of your own gets inducted, there’s an almost electric feeling of pride connected to that honor.
Every time a Yankee – Yogi, Mickey, Joe D., Whitey, the Babe and Lou, among others – goes into Cooperstown, an entire legion of fans springs into emotionally-charged action. Right? Fans from each MLB team have a connection to every Hall of Famer.
Despite its many “connections,” no one from Redlands has ever been inducted into baseball’s sacred Hall.
From my own memories, the only Hall of Famers to show up in Redlands – I know, there has to be more – were pitcher Ferguson Jenkins and hitting star Duke Snider.
Ferguson Jenkins, a baseball Hall of Famer, was one of two known such inductees to show up in Redlands – for a youth baseball clinic. (Photo by Wikipedia Commons)
Jenkins showed up at Redlands Community Field – white stretch limousine and all – in the mid 1990s. He was part of a youth baseball camp. Along with Redlands’ own Julio Cruz and former MLB outfielder Rudy Law, that trio gave a free clinic to dozens of local ball-playing youth.
Then hung around for an autograph session later. Danny, my oldest, was one of those kids who got autographs. Jenkins, Law and Cruz couldn’t have been nicer. In fact, a newspaper photo published the day after showed Danny next to Jenkins, a Cy Young Award winner.
Memorable.
As for Snider, the one-time legendary center fielder for the Dodgers – both in Brooklyn and Los Angeles – he showed up at the University of Redlands to watch his grandson play. Multiple times, in fact.
After one game, Bulldog coach Scott Laverty came up to me just outside Redlands’ dugout.
“I saw you sitting next to Duke,” he said.
Duke?
I had no idea what he was talking about, or who he was talking about. I’d just been talking to some guy. I had no idea I was sitting next to a Hall of Famer.
“Duke Snider,” Laverty said. “I thought I saw you talking to him.”
Duke Snider, whose legendary batting helped lead the Brooklyn Dodgers into five World Series, showed up in Redlands to watch his grandson play. (Photo by Wikipedia Commons)
Duke Snider? Are you kidding? THE Duke Snider?
“That’s his grandson playing for us in center.”
Jordan Snider, an all-conference outfielder in 2007, had played center field for Redlands that day. From nearby Temecula. The Duke lived just south of there, in Escondido, perhaps – San Diego County.
Neither Jenkins nor Snider were ever caught up in the PED nonsense that plagued the sport as we turned into this century. Their places in the Hall are safe and secure.
Not quite, though, for other significant ballplayers.
I interviewed both men for stories in local media. Both were fabulous.
They came from a different era, long before the sport was affected by PED use. Suddenly, guys like Jenkins and Snider were overshadowed by known PED users like Clemens and Bonds.
“It’s like they stamped out the guys I used to root for,” said my oldest son, Danny, who at one time was a rabid baseball fan. Hey, there are some guys that made it clean. Cal Ripken, Jr., Frank Thomas, Ken Griffey, Jr., and Tony Gwynn were in his card collection.
Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
It’s complete acceptance. Much like, perhaps, Red Sox, Blue Jays, Yankees, or Astros fans whenever Roger Clemens took the mound. Or a Cubs fan when Sammy Sosa stepped into the batter’s box. Oakland and Cardinals’ fans had Mark McGwire. Gary Sheffield showed up in L.A., Miami, Atlanta and New York. The Red Sox and Dodgers, plus the Indians, watched Manny Ramirez skyrocket dozens of balls over fences. Alex Rodriguez was magnificent during his days in Seattle, Texas and New York.
You think those fans aren’t affected by Hall of Fame corruption? That corruption was media-driven.
Barry Bonds, reviled by rival fans, was beloved in San Francisco.
My son, Chet, saw Bonds strike home runs in San Francisco, at Dodger Stadium, plus both ballparks in San Diego, Jack Murphy Stadium and Petco Park. Throw in a significant bomb at Anaheim. Game 6, 2002 World Series.
When Bonds showed up in BALCO reports, law enforcement investigations, plus various other significant bodies – including a Federal government trial – Chet’s view was that his baseball achievements should remain intact.
Chet is furious that Bonds – he wasn’t necessarily a fan of Roger Clemens – wasn’t elected to the Hall of Fame.
He’s heard me say it for years.
That the same fraternity of media that voted MVP and Cy Young, Rookie of the Year and Gold Glove honors had also voted to keep significant players out of Cooperstown, the New York-based site of the Hall of Fame.
It was right under the media’s corrupt noses that PED usage was taking place.
Corrupt …
… in that all major teams, from its ownership and management to its medical staffs and dugout personnel, had to know.
… the stain and stench reaches all the way up to the Commissioner’s office – Peter Uebberoth, Bart Giamatti, Faye Vincent and Bud Selig. If they didn’t know, they’re ignorant. If they did know, they did nothing.
… baseball’s player union, which deflected away testing procedures that would’ve kept the sport clean.
Tom Verducci wrote an eye-opening article for Sports Illustrated in May 2002, perhaps one of the first big breaks in reporting PED use among MLB players. For years, deep and insightful reporting was missing from the PED story. (Photo by Wikipedia Commons)
Sports Illustrated Tom Verducci gets a huge “Hall” pass for a significant article he wrote in 2002. San Diego Padres’ third baseman Ken Caminiti, an admitted PED user and one-time National League MVP (voted on by the media, incidentally), was quoted by Verducci saying 50 percent of baseball players were using enhancements.
Over a decade earlier, Canseco was besieged by Red Sox fans during the playoffs against Oakland. In Boston. “Sterrrrroids. Sterrrrroids. Sterrrrroids.” They all chanted.
Canseco, for his part, struck a Greek god-like posture, flexing for them, kiddingly posing for those Fenway Park fans.
That was 1990, or ’91. Where was baseball’s media? You’d think they’d pick up on a story like that. It took over a decade before the story broke. When it did break, Canseco’s first book created the eventual storm.
The media got scooped.
Hundreds of news outlets – print, TV, radio, you name it – were planted in each major league city. Coast to coast. ABC. CBS. NBC. ESPN. CNN. Where were these journalists? Didn’t you guys remember Woodward and Bernstein, the two Washington reporters who broke Watergate a generation earlier?
The media could’ve headed off the PED era right away. It wasn’t enough to simply offer speculation. Or blind rage. Or ask questions, that players denied using.
They didn’t dig for stories.
Eventually, Canseco wrote two books, naming names.
Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams wrote “Game of Shadows,” detailing the BALCO raids and subsequent legal connections.
I once wrote a column about that, noting significant names of those media personalities that didn’t properly do its job. Amazingly, one of those names I’d mentioned, Bob Costas, contacted me.
“I don’t want to you to think I surf the net, looking for my name,” said Costas in one of two communications I had with the longtime NBC sportscaster. “A friend of mine in California sent me a copy of your article.”
I promised Costas our conversation would be off the record. To this day, I won’t reveal anything we discussed further. I will share this, however: He told me that he called the MLB All-Star game, I think back in 2002, and spent the entire game bemoaning the state of baseball with all its PED usage. He was, in effect, calling them out.
Longtime NBC sportscaster Bob Costas called to talk with me about the state of steroids after a column I wrote about what the media had missed all those years. (Photo by Wikipedia Commons)
Costas said he received plenty of blowback from the players and its union.
My own complaint was that kind of unspecific coverage meant nothing until evidence was produced, such as Verducci’s SI piece.
“Howard Cosell,” I said, mentioning ABC’s legendary tough-as-nails broadcaster a couple decades earlier, “would’ve gotten to the bottom of this.”
It was great talking with Costas, but he only underscored the problem. Media was largely responsible for the outbreak of PED use. By not rooting out its issues, exposing the sinners and shutting down the freakage use of PEDs in its early stages, all talk was cheap.
Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
Here is how baseball’s Hall of Fame PED controversies has affected me, my family and, perhaps, a generation of baseball fans:
The raucous, unfair and unprofessional behavior of around 500-plus voting media members has rendered the process as complete buffoonery. It’s a cartoon of mass proportions. While the media continues to swing and miss in all its political coverages – whether you lean politically left or right – its Hall of Fame contributions may be among the most shameful display of professional conduct.
It’s almost as if the Hall-selecting committee exhibits no code of conduct.
It’s deep and personal when the likes of Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens are kept out of the Hall. Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, plus Rafael Palmeiro and Manny Ramirez. Jose Canseco could’ve had a shot. And Gary Sheffield, plus Alex Rodriguez.
On Jan. 22, 2018, four more players were elected by the Baseball Writers Association of America. None of the afore-mentioned claimed a spot, though A-Rod is not yet eligible.
My son, Danny, collected all their baseball cards in the early 1990s. Born in 1984, the kid followed my lead into following a sport in which many fathers and sons enjoyed together. Danny bought, traded and craved baseball cards.
My son, Danny Brown, was a rabid baseball fan who, perhaps, stepped away from the sport once inequality of media bias started to stain the Hall of Fame.
That little guy, age eight on up, adored those cards.
He memorized their stats.
We went to games, seeking autographs afterwards.
When it was time for the World Series, or the playoffs, or a huge pennant race game, we had the TV on full bore.
My youngest son, Chet, had pictures. Cards. Autographs. Autographed balls. He stared relentlessly at TV screens whenever Bonds came to bat. On those trips to the ball park, there were no trips to the rest room or snack bar when the Giants’ lineup was only a couple players away from Bonds’ spot in the batter’s box.
As the PED drama played out, dozens of players were spotlighted for using performance enhancing drugs. In the cases of the afore-mentioned players, it’s possible they’ll never be inducted into the sport’s greatest showcase.
I remember Danny saying to me, “Dad, I don’t know who to believe any more. It’s like they’re taking my childhood heroes away.”
Eight years younger than Danny, Chet completely bought in – BIG TIME – to the San Francisco Giants. At a time when Bonds was asserting himself into baseball’s home run chase, Chet was like millions of others.
Barry Bonds, a San Francisco treat, was considered a traitor to the game by almost every other baseball fan other than the Giants. There are plenty that believe he belongs in Cooperstown. (Photo by Wikipedia Commons)
Watching. Admiring. Enjoying those magical moments.
Milestone moments like 500 home runs. 600. 660, tying Willie Mays. 700. Then 715, cracking the Babe. Finally, 756, working his way past Hank Aaron.
He was almost at the game against Washington when Bonds slugged No. 756. I wouldn’t let him, nor his sister, Kelli, go to a night game by themselves. They went up to the Bay Area to stay with my mom and grandparents. Kelli was just 18. Chet wasn’t yet 14. Imagine letting two kids at that age loose on the subway train – alone in The City. With all those vagabonds? Not at night. It was hard enough letting them go in daylight hours.
Meanwhile, I was on the road with Danny, heading for Tallahassee, so I could drop him off at Florida State.
I’d picked the game after – a day game – in trying to predict when Bonds would go deep for No. 756. Got them game tickets. Airline tickets. They missed seeing the record-breaker by a day. By the way, Bonds wasn’t in the Giants’ lineup in that game.
To this day, I’m kidded and reviled for being such a bad father.
A few years earlier, Chet had been at World Series Game Six. October 2002. Angels and Giants. In Anaheim. Leading 3-2 in games, anticipating the Giants’ first World Series championship since 1954, he watched Bonds strike a massive HR off Frankie “K-Rod” Rodriguez. It was a Hall of Fame moment.
It wasn’t so pretty to watch a 9-year-old boy crying after the game. The Giants had blown a 5-0 lead. They lost. One day later, the Angels claimed the World Series trophy.
Chet, like millions of others, was in total awe of Bonds. His swing. His power. His complete dominance of pitchers, some of whom may have been using PEDs.
Hall of Fame selectors missed their chance to cover the story when it was taking place. They cannot now re-enact their mistakes by voting to keep the top candidates from their chance at glory.
Redlands Connection is a mixture of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, soccer, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
Part 3
For Greg Horton, who blocked familiar foes on the Rams’ defensive line, that 9-0 NFC championship game loss to Los Angeles was his final game with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. A contract dispute, a hold-out, getting cut, all conspired to lead Horton temporarily back to the west coast.
Horton, a Redlands High School product, once stood across the practice field line against Fred Dryer and Jim Youngblood, Bob Brudzinski and Jack Reynolds — days when he played with the Rams before getting traded to Tampa Bay. Those were the guys now standing across from Horton in a rugged NFC championship game at Tampa in January 1979.
Only a week before that loss, Tampa Bay slugged its way past Philadelphia, 24-17, in an NFC Divisional playoff. Horton blocked for a pair of Ricky Bell TD runs, played on a line that surrendered no sacks, protecting QB Doug Williams on a 9-yard TD pass to TE Jimmie Giles.
It was a short-lived stay for Horton in Tampa.
Bucs’ coach John McKay, it seems, had gotten a full view of a University of Wisconsin guard, Ray Snell, who was considered to be a faster player at that position. Between Horton’s contractual holdout and Snell’s promising prospective, there was a switch at left guard made between the 1979 and 1980 seasons.
Horton was gone – back to L.A., in fact – where he played two games with the Rams before eventually getting cut.
Tampa, which allowed three short field goals to Rams’ placekicker Frank Corral in that 9-0 loss, eventually slumped to 5-10-1 in 1980 — no playoffs. McKay got the Bucs back into the playoffs two more times before a a combined 8-24 record in 1984 and ’85 led to a change.
Only a dozen sacks on a 1979 blocking corps that included Horton? In 16 games? A year later, the Horton-less Bucs’ line surrendered twice that amount, 24 sacks, still not a dismal total. Williams’s QB play improved that 1980 season. Who knows how well the Bucs would’ve fared if Horton had stayed put?
Incidentally, those dozen QB sacks in 1979 included just seven knockdown for Williams; backup Mike Rae was sacked five times. It wasn’t an NFL record, but it was close. Four years before the Bucs protected Williams so well, the St. Louis Cardinals blocked a little better for their QB, Jim Hart. They surrendered a mere seven sacks with a line that included Hall of Famer Dan Dierdorff and All-Pro Conrad Dobler.
As for Horton’s replacement?
Snell, taken as the 22nd overall pick in the 1980 NFL draft, spent five seasons blocking for Williams, at times alternating with lineman George Yarno while bringing in plays from the sideline. Snell started 46 of his 64 career games at Tampa Bay before getting dealt to Pittsburgh.
Doug Williams, whose early career in the NFL with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, was supported by the blocking of Redlands’ Greg Horton. The pair came close to winning the 1979 NFC Championship in a game against the Los Angeles Rams, who won, 9-0. Photo by U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Chuck Burden of the Chief of Staff of the Army derivative: Diddykong1130
Horton, a 6-foot-4, 260-pound blocker, surfaced in the newly-organized United States Football League where he spent 1982 and 1983 with the Boston Breakers. He blocked for the highly underachieving RB Marcus DuPree (Oklahoma) in that short-lived summer-based league.
It was Week 10 – Saturday night, May 7, 1983 – when the Breakers showed up at the L.A. Coliseum to play the Los Angeles Express. L.A. beat Horton’s team again, 23-20. A little over 16,000 showed up in that massive 100,000-seat stadium to watch.
I’d been granted a field pass, something that never would’ve happened in an NFL game. Horton was gracious enough to visit with me during the game – and after. He had a few games left in the tank, but his pro career was nearing an end.
So, for that matter, was the USFL.
FROM NFL BACK TO HOMETOWN
Horton, born in San Bernardino in 1951, didn’t leave all his good works on the football field. He returned to Redlands, working businesses, growing up his family – his wife, Shirley, and two daughters – and participated in coaching and went heavily into the city’s legendary high school booster club, The Benchwarmers.
During his career, Horton had blocked against the likes of Alan Page and Carl Eller, Harry Carson and Randy White, plus “Too Tall” Jones – the player taken No. 1 overall in the same 1974 draft when he was plucked by the Bears.
He never played a down for the Bears, who were in transition from the Hall of Fame seasons from middle linebacker Dick Butkus and running back Gale Sayers. Gary Huff QB’d that Bears’ team – 4-10 under coach Abe Gibron in 1974. One year later, the Bears made a nice pick in the draft, picking up Walter Payton.
A curious side note about Gibron. A few years after her husband’s death, Shirley Horton confided that one of the reasons Horton wanted out of Chicago was that he wasn’t that convinced Gibron was the right fit as Bears’ coach.
“When he got to Tampa a few years later,” Shirley said, chuckling, “guess who the offensive line coach was?” Turns out it was Gibron. “Greg just laughed about that.”
That second season, 1975, the Bears were coached by Jack Pardee – another 4-10 record – with no real future in sight. Payton had a blocking corps of Jeff Sevy, Mark Nordquist, Dan Pfeiffer, Noah Jackson and Lionel Antoine.
By Horton’s third season, he was in L.A., playing backup on a Rams’ offensive line that included four No. 1 picks – Dennis Harrah, Tom Mack and Doug France, plus John Williams (Baltimore) – surrounding center Rich Saul.
That line was good enough that Horton was expendable, traded to Tampa midway into that 1978 rebuilding season.
The Rams were memorable during that 1970s run – playoffs each season under Chuck Knox (54-15 between 1973-77). Except for that little spurt when Horton replaced injured Dennis Harrah, it wasn’t until his trade to Tampa that his career got interesting. Twenty-eight of his 34 career starts came in Tampa.
A curious note, an extra Redlands “connection” was this: On Sept. 9, 1979, Tampa Bay beat the Baltimore Colts, 29-26, in a Buccaneers’ home game. Standing on the opposing sideline was another ex-Terrier, Brian DeRoo.
“It was the only time,” said DeRoo, “we ever faced each other in a game. Early in the game, though, Greg got thrown out for pushing a referee. I think it was after the first play.”
Also in that game, DeRoo caught three passes for 81 yards. One of those was a 67-yard bomb from Colts’ QB Greg Landry – a play that was highlighted one night later on ABC-TV’s Monday Night Football, halftime highlights narrated by Howard Cosell.
‘GUNNS’ DURING HIS BUFF DAYS
During his college years at Colorado – playing in the Big Eight Conference for the Buffaloes, Eddie Crowder head coach – Horton was a three-year starter for a team that finished 23-12 between 1971 and 1973. Future Oakland/Los Angeles Raider legend Cliff Branch was a Buffalo teammate.
On New Year’s Eve 1971, the seventh-ranked Buffaloes stopped No. 15 Houston, 29-17, in the Bluebonnet Bowl. A year later, the 13th-ranked Buffs lost the Gator Bowl to No. 6 Auburn.
As for the Big Eight, Barry Switzer-coached Oklahoma and and Tom Osborne-coached Nebraska were the dominant teams.
While the Buffaloes dreamed of unsettling the legendary Sooners and Cornhuskers, Colorado might have been the closest team to contend with those national powerhouse teams.
Colorado’s only two losses in a 10-2 season (1971) came against the No. 2 Sooners, 45-17, and No. 1 Nebraska, 31-7. Horton, a sophomore, blocked against the likes of Oklahoma’s Lucious Selmon, whose brother, Lee Roy, would be a future NFL teammate in Tampa.
Yes, future Heisman Trophy winner Johnny Rodgers was on the field against Colorado in Nebraska’s victory over the ninth-ranked Buffs. The Huskers, 13-0 overall, wound up as national champions.
Fast forward a few decades. Past that 1974 NFL draft. Past his two non-playing seasons in Chicago. Past his initial years with the Rams. Past the main portion of his career in Tampa Bay. Past those two games in his Rams’ return, plus the USFL.
As mentioned in Part 1 of this series, I sat across from Horton at the lunch table in that Redlands burger joint. His hopes to launch a local business into orbit was on his mind.
His didn’t necessarily want to talk football.
Horton wanted to talk big plans.
He didn’t want to rerun his football career.
Horton wanted to attract clients.
Redlands’ Greg Horton had a nickname — “Gunns.” Photo provided by Horton’s family.
All that football background – playing against a Heisman winner, college football’s top-ranked teams, NFL Hall of Famers, All-Pros, drafted by NFL heavyweight George Halas, playing for legendary coach John McKay, nearly reaching the Super Bowl with a remarkable worst-to-first team – seemed like a distant memory.
Horton had a business to organize.
“When will this story run?” he asked.
“Soon as I write it up.”
My hope was that the article came out all right. All mention of his business was sidelined by advertising and front office executives looking to block free advertising for his company.
Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
Greg Horton had been drafted by the Chicago Bears. It was 1974. Third round, 56th pick overall. Papa Bear himself, George Halas, supervised the selection of Horton, a third-round pick out of Colorado. Around Redlands, where Horton had prepped, this was big, big news.
By 1976, Horton, a Redlands High product from a serious run of Terrier dominance from the 1960s, was a member of the Los Angeles Rams. Papa Bear had traded him there on April 2, 1974 for the Rams’ third round (Mike Fuller) and 10th round (Mike Julius) picks in 1975.
Those L.A. Rams’ practice sessions must have been genuinely traumatic for the weak-minded. Horton was teammates with Joe Namath, Ron Jaworski, Pat Haden, Lawrence McCutcheon, Heisman winner John Cappelletti, blocking against guys like Jack Reynolds, Isaiah Robertson and Jack Youngblood.
Playing mostly special teams, Horton eventually took over for injured right guard Dennis Harrah midway through the 1977 season. He played 63 NFL games, starting 34. Most of those came after he got traded to the expansion Tampa Bay Buccaneers midway through the 1978 season.
Horton was part of football lore.
Tampa Bay coach John McKay, who coached USC to four national championships over 16 seasons, surfaced in the NFL when the Bucs joined the NFL as an expansion team in 1976. It’s in the NFL history books that the Bucs dropped their first 26 games. Little by little, though, McKay started building a strong defense.
John McKay, whose career was built on great success at USC, coached Redlands’ Greg Horton in the NFL for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Photo provided by USC/Wikipedia.
QB Doug Williams, who would eventually lead Washington to a Super Bowl about a decade later, took snaps for the Bucs. Side note: Tampa’s offensive coordinator in those early years was none other than Joe Gibbs, the Redskins’ head coach when Williams QB’d them to the Super Bowl a few years later.
BUILDING BUCS’ OFFENSIVE LINE
Gibbs and McKay built Tampa’s offense from scratch. Its real strength might’ve been its offensive line. Left tackle Dave Reavis had played for Super Bowl champion Pittsburgh – drafted in 1973 by the Steelers.
Center Steve Wilson, right guard Greg Roberts and right tackle Charlie Hannah were original Bucs. Good enough to stick around for the upgrades.
McKay and Gibbs built that left side – Williams’ blind side – with Reavis and Horton, who took on blitzing linebackers and safeties blasting through the middle, nose guards and defensive tackles on every snap.
Williams, incidentally, had gone down just 12 times that season. Twelve sacks over 16 games! Incredible. Onetime Trojan Ricky Bell was racking up over 1,000 yards behind that stud line.
It had to be one of football’s greatest ironies that Tampa Bay would host the Rams for the right to play in the 1980 Super Bowl. It would be played in Pasadena’s Rose Bowl, of all places.
McKay, who probably figured to be the Rams’ coach at one point due to his proximity with USC, watched the likes of George Allen and Chuck Knox coach the Rams during his Trojan years. Ray Malavasi had taken over from Knox.
Bell, of course, was the ex-Trojan playing against the pro team from his former college home town in that 1979 NFC Championship game — for his former college coach.
Ricky Bell, runner-up to Tony Dorsett in the 1976 Heisman Trophy race, was picked No. 1 overall in the NFL draft by Tampa Bay. He was the man that Redlands product Greg Horton blocked for when both became Buccaneer teammates in 1978 and 1979. Photo by Tampa Bay Buccaneers.
Then there was Horton, a 6-foot, 4-inch, 260-pounder who grew up in Redlands – Rams’ country – before eventually getting shipped to L.A. by Chicago in 1976. He never played for the Bears. Eventually, he was traded by the Rams two games into the 1978 season, Greg found a home in Tampa.
Horton’s wife, Shirley, confided to me that her husband wanted out of Chicago.
This was a “worst to first” ride, one of pro football’s biggest turnarounds.
When Horton arrived in Tampa, the line consisted of Garry Puetz, a 12th round pick by the Jets in 1973, with 1975 Miami first rounder Darryl Carlton occupying right tackle. By 1979, Puetz and Carlton were no longer around.
Horton started out by playing left, eventually shifted to right guard to accommodate injuries to Hannah, plus any rebuilding eventually taking shape under Gibbs and McKay in Tampa.
Any team’s best defense is a good offense. During that era of ball control, clock-killing, run-oriented offenses is what kept the other team’s attacks on the sideline. It’s exactly what McKay had in mind with the Reavis-Horton-Wilson-Hannah-Roberts corps blocking for Williams and Bell (1,263 yards).
The Bucs were no different than Earl Campbell’s Houston Oilers. Or Walter Payton’s early days in Chicago. Line play had been huge around the likes of O.J. Simpson in Buffalo, Franco Harris in Pittsburgh, not to mention Larry Csonka and Mercury Morris in Miami.
In Tampa Bay, Bell had been taken in the 1976 NFL draft ahead of Heisman Trophy winner Tony Dorsett, the University Pittsburgh All-American selected by the Dallas Cowboys.
Defensively, onetime Oklahoma Sooner defensive end Lee Roy Selmon was named Associated Press MVP that season. Linebacker Richard Wood, another ex-Trojan that was originally drafted by the Jets, also played a key role on the Bucs’ defense.
BUCS’ PLAYOFF RUN
After a 10-6 regular season, it was Tampa Bay 24, Philadelphia 16 in the divisional playoff round – Bell bashing for 142 yards on 38 carries behind that Bucs’ line.
Suddenly, Tampa Bay, Bell, McKay, Horton, Wood, Williams, Gibbs & Co. had found themselves staring face to face with the Los Angeles Rams. The NFC championship was on the line.
From a 7-37 beginning to an 11-6 record heading into the NFC Championship, McKay had lifted the Bucs to pro football’s pinnacle. Malavasi’s Rams finished 9-7, but stunned Dallas, 21-19, in the divisional round. Their featured running back was UCLA product Wendell Tyler.
Vince Ferragamo had taken over as Rams’ QB from onetime USC shooter Pat Haden, who combined 24 interceptions with 16 TD passes.
By comparison, Williams’ 24 picks and 18 TDs weren’t much better.
Each side would try and counter the other with ground games and staunch defense.
It might’ve seemed like the Bucs’ defense would devour the Rams.
L.A. had a defense of its own – the Youngbloods, Reynolds, Fred Dryer, you name it.
The date was Jan. 6, 1980.
Both teams scored touchdowns.
Both were called back because of penalties.
It was a defensive slugfest. Or an offensive bust. Take your pick.
The Rams’ defense stole the show, limiting the Bucs to a mere 177 total yards.
By contrast, L.A.’s Cullen Bryant ran for 106 yards. Tyler racked up 86 more. Ferragamo threw for 163 yards – no interceptions.
Williams gave way to backup Mike Rae, the pair combining for a total of 54 yards passing.
Rams’ placekicker Frank Corral hit field goals of 19, 21 and 23 yards.
Final score, Rams 9, Bucs 0. Horton came that close to becoming the second former Terrier to play in a Super Bowl. The first had been Jim Weatherwax, a little over one decade earlier while wearing the green and gold of the Green Bay Packers.
After a dozen years of seeing the Packers, Colts, Vikings and Cowboys reach the Super Bowl, the Rams became the first NFC Western Division team to advance to the NFL’s title game against the Pittsburgh Steelers.
Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
He was sitting across the table from me at lunch.
A fast-food burger joint. On Colton Ave.
In the old days, when he played for Redlands High in the 1960s, this place probably never existed.
This NFL workhorse, who blocked for some ultra-strong Redlands High Terrier teams, got recruited to play at Colorado, was drafted by the Chicago Bears, then launched a successful pro career that ended in the United States Football League after about a decade.
Greg Horton, who died in 2015 at age 65, had plenty of cherished memories on the football field. He played in some big games. Went up against high school greats. Against some collegiate All-Americans, NFL All-Pro and Hall of Fame talent. Football insight was keen, endless.
As a Terrier at Redlands High, Horton was, perhaps, one of the biggest of their long list of football studs. The coaches there were legends – Frank Serrao, Horton’s coach, Paul Womack, both having been preceded by Ralph “Buck” Weaver, perhaps considered the father of Terrier football.
At lunch that day, I knew what Horton wanted. He had invested in a business, located a couple hundred feet from where we were eating. Naturally, he wanted it to succeed. Horton needed publicity. It was some kind of workout program, if I remember correctly.
Not my job, actually. There are business owners around Redlands who would give 12 of their toes for such publicity. Horton, by virtue of his NFL notoriety, his “homegrown” status, not to mention those many times he’d sat down for one-on-one interviews, was calling in a few favors.
I was walking a fine line on this one. It would’ve been impossible to give him exactly what he wanted. I was in sports, not news, or business.
An early shot. Redlands’ Greg Horton. Photo by Tampa Bay Buccaneers
He’d have preferred, I’m certain, for me to completely focus on his new enterprise – the specials, its purpose, investors, the nuts and bolts, everyone involved – as the focal point of the piece. Like I said, I wasn’t a business reporter.
Plus, I could just see plenty of other business owners that advertised in that paper. They’d be outraged by such favorable press on Horton’s new venture, insisting upon being interviewed about their own businesses. I had to be careful.
In this city, Horton had more than paid his dues. You’d think the hometown paper owed him one. Our publisher sounded against the idea. So did the advertising director. I didn’t even convene with the editor. Okay, at least I asked.
Professional standards abounded.
Horton might have stood at the head of the line of Redlands High football players – NFL, high-level collegiate play, NFL championship-level, connections, battered and bruised on field, taking on some of the sport’s greatest champions.
HORTON PAID HIS DUES
This guy was from Redlands.
He’d coached plenty of locals, headed up the high school’s booster club, the Benchwarmers, provided an endless amount of support for almost anything the kids needed.
As an assistant line coach at the University of Redlands one year – mid-1980s – I can remember him going after a University of San Diego defender after a game. That USD kid had cheap-shotted one of the Bulldog players.
It was the kind of play Horton knew better than anyone. He knew all the lineman’s tricks – illegal high-low blocking techniques, going for an unguarded knee, hitting from behind, you name it – so when he saw that taking place in a NCAA Division 3 (non-scholarship) game, Horton took offense.
He went after the USD player, briefly, then turned to the injured Bulldog.
“Are you all right?”
Horton wasn’t exactly my biggest fan. He never turned me away for an interview, though. I just didn’t strike well with him, I think. In fact, he was highly critical when he showed up – among other parents, school officials, Terrier football players and coaches – at what appeared to be a public slap-down of current Redlands High coach Dave Perkins during the 1990 season.
While some parents were after Perkins’ job, Horton’s public tirade was directed at me. It was something like, “The guy in the newspaper” (me) “needs to remember this is about the kids.”
Horton seemed to scream those words, an emotional outburst.
Truth is, a parents’ group wanted Perkins gone. Fired. My presence at that meeting, however, curtailed any outward signs of outrage. I’m not certain if Horton was anti-Perkins and felt my presence nullified the meeting’s outcome. Who knows? It was an outward show of support.
In fact, I’m certain I was specifically invited there that night to keep things under wraps. No one has a desire to be quoted in the press when they’re doing something underhanded. Right?
Perkins, who had back-to-back 3-7 seasons in 1990 and 1991, held onto his job that night. My guess is that Horton was there to back Perkins. I was there simply to report.
Horton, for his part, probably never saw any of that while he wore a Terrier uniform in the 1960s. Womack, coach. No parents’ groups. Just a bunch of high school players lighting up Friday nights during the fall.
Brian Billick, a Redlands product whose eventual coaching career landed him at the height of NFL play, settled in as a pro football broadcaster when his days as Baltimore Ravens’ coach concluded in 2007. Photo by the Baltimore Ravens.
This may be controversial, but Horton may well be Redlands’ greatest Connection to the NFL world, at least as a player. Then again, it might be Brian Billick – who came along just a couple years after Horton – the man who coached the Baltimore Ravens to a Super Bowl. Or it might be Jim Weatherwax, who was not only drafted by Vince Lombardi in Green Bay, but played on those first two Super Bowl championships.
While Billick was developing his mind toward coaching at the highest of levels, Horton goes down as a weight room product who lifted himself to the heights of high school play, tops among collegiate programs and into the world of NFL play.
Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
A few nuggets about a Redlands Connection:
Both Redlands High School and, eventually, city rival Redlands East Valley became connected to the San Bernardino Kiwanis Tournament as 100-percenters – but in different ways.
Ever since the tournament started in 1958, the Terriers have been rabid entries to a tournament that was once considered the prime time of prep basketball, perhaps, in two counties.
REV, meanwhile, joined the fray in 1997, when the school opened for the first time. Ever since, the Wildcats – their only coach, Bill Berich – have taken the floor against any and all opponents at the Kiwanis.
As for Kiwanis tournament dedication, look no further than Randy Genung. He coached the Terriers in the Kiwanis for a staggering total of 25 years, 1977 through 2001. After that, Brad Scott took over as head coach while Genung assisted through 2010. That’s 33 straight years at the Kiwanis.
As a coach, longtime Redlands High coach Randy Genung, left, watched the Terriers in a staggering 33 times from the bench while his son, Danny, right, is a one-time San Bernardino Kiwanis Tournament selection. Photo by Harr Travel.
Redlands, now under current coach Ted Berry for the past few seasons, just completed play in the 60th San Bernardino Kiwanis Tournament. The Terriers reached the finals, but lost to Barstow.
Incidentally, the Terriers have played in every single Kiwanis Tournament event since the first one in 1958.
As for the Kiwanis tourney, it’s still standing amid a remarkable stretch of history.
SOME KEY NAMES FROM KIWANIS HISTORY
Greg Bunch?
Fred Lynn?
Greg Hyder?
John Masi, Scott Kay and Ty Stockham?
Those are a few of the past players who have shown up to play in San Bernardino.
While we awaited the outcome of the 60th annual San Bernardino Kiwanis Tournament, we’re reminded of the spectacular past performances of those high schoolers that came looking for tournament hardware, either a team title or all-tournament recognition.
Bunch, for instance, was the 34th player selected in the 1978 NBA draft by the New York Knicks. Out of Cal State Fullerton. He was a 6-foot-6 forward who made the all-tournament team in 1973 for Pacific.
Lynn, of course, was remembered for a brilliant baseball career. The El Monte High player was a 1968 Kiwanis all-tournament selection.
Hyder’s high school career at Victor Valley, coached by prep legend Ollie Butler, eventually led him to becoming the 39th pick in the 1970 NBA draft by the Cincinnati Royals (now the Sacramento Kings).
Kay, meanwhile, was tournament MVP in 1969. Years later, he coached San Bernardino High School to tournament titles with players like Bryon Russell – the Utah Jazz forward who was guarding against Michael Jordan’s game-winner in the 1997 NBA championship.
Russell, incidentally, was two-time Kiwanis tournament MVP in 1987 and 1988.
Masi, of course, turned up as UC Riverside coach during some brilliant days when the Highlanders dominated NCAA Division 2.
Stockham, the son of San Gorgonio coaching legend Doug Stockham, was another all-tournament player that also wound up leading his team to a tourney championship as a coach.
Part of the past includes Ken Hubbs, an original all-tourney selection in 1958.
Hubbs’ legacy, of course, is that he played major league baseball for the Chicago Cubs – winning 1962 National League Rookie of the Year honors – and was killed in an airplane crash shortly before spring training began in 1964.
Eventually, the Ken Hubbs Award was established. Such Kiwanis stars – San Bernardino’s Kyle Kopp and Shelton Diggs, Redlands’ Chad Roghair and Eisenhower’s Ronnie Lott, among others – won the Hubbs honors.
It’s left the Kiwanis with plenty of tradition, history and quite a continuing legacy.
NOBODY BIGGER THAN TARK
More tradition: Jerry Tarkanian, whose coaching legend started after leaving Redlands High School in 1961, brought his Terrier team into the mix at the 1960 Kiwanis. Danny Wolthers was picked on the five-player all-tourney team.
Tarkanian, of course, left Redlands for Riverside City College, departing for Pasadena City College – coaching five State titles for the Tigers and Lancers – before landing at Long Beach State (122-20 from 1968-73).
Ultimately, his travels took him to Nevada-Las Vegas (509-105 from 1974-92), leading the Runnin’ Rebels to the 1990 national championship.
Final coaching record – 784-202.
Footnote: It was during his Redlands days that Tark began his well-known history for chomping on wet towels during games.
Redlands and San Bernardino Kiwanis Tournament connections are seemingly endless.
Two-time San Bernardino Kiwanis all-tournament selection Kim Aiken is now playing at Eastern Washington University. Photo by Redlands Rotary Club.
Sixty Years of Redlands Tournament Players
Here is a list of the all-tournament players from Redlands High School and Redlands East Valley (all players through 2003 represented RHS; afterward the school is indicated):
1958 – Tom Fox
1960 – Danny Wolthers
1963 – Tom McCutcheon, Jim Gardner
1967 – Randy Orwig
1977 – Don Smith, Pat Keogh
1978 – Tom McCluskey
1980 – Mark Tappan
1981 – James Sakaguchi
1982 – Jon Hansen
1983 – Jon Hansen (MVP), Mark Smith
1986 – Jared Hansen
1987 – Chad Roghair
1989 – Fritz Bomke
1990 – Marcus Rogers
1991 – Ledel Smith
1992 – Eddie Lucas
1993 – Mike Allen
1994 – Nick Day
1985 – Jon Allen, Chris Harvey
1996 – Johnny Avila
1997 – Eric Siess
1998 – Eric Siess
1999 – Danny Genung
2003 – Richard Vazquez, Michael Estrada, Matt Mirau
RHS 2004 – Mychal Estrada
REV 2004 – Brandon Dowdy, Jacob Letson, Lance Evbuomwan (MVP)
Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown
A year or so after that volleyball banquet, I wrote an article about Redlands High’s boys soccer team. At the time, the Terriers were among the most successful soccer side in Southern California. Even on their own campus, they were more significant than any other team.
It was no contest.
Back-to-back CIF championships, five trips to the CIF semifinals and a record run of 23 straight seasons of playoff appearances had left a high standard unmatched by any other program on that campus, before or since.
Every kid that made varsity soccer teams at Redlands during that era was cutting edge. Cream of the crop. Best this city had to offer. Kids cut from those teams would have made teams at other schools very strong.
That’s how strong Redlands was in those years.
LUDIKHUIZE’S FIST PUMP SIGNALS
TERRIER GREATNESS
My by-line appeared about a soccer playoff preview for their match in Orange County. Among other facts listed were the team’s top three scoring attackers. Jeannie Ludikhuize, mother of Chris Ludikhuize, read that day’s edition and called my publisher to lobby a complaint.
She was peeved that her son’s name had been left out. He was fourth in scoring. It must have been intentional, she felt. Or maybe it was that the team’s coach, Tony Murtaugh, failed to report this information. Neither of which was accurate.
Toebe Bush, our publisher, asked me to call Jeannie.
“Jeannie,” I asked her, “what grade is your son in right now?”
Chris was a senior. Time was running out on his high school career. In fact, this would be his final match. Jeannie was, apparently, not enjoying those moments as fully as she could have.
“All I know,” I told her, “is that if I had a son on a team like this, I’d take my lawn chair, plant it in some good location, watch the game and watch every move my son made – and enjoy everything. Maybe even take some pictures.
“Savor each moment,” I said.
No one was leaving Chris out intentionally. “Forget what’s written in the newspaper, or what’s not written. Just enjoy your son.”
Jeannie, in fact, did calm down and recognized that her son didn’t necessarily need media recognition. Parents want their children’s achievements recorded. You know, for their scrapbook. For the scholarship opportunities. Good press never hurts. Her son was a good player, regardless.
By the way, in Chris’ final high school match, he couldn’t have played better. He saved a remarkable scoring attack by Anaheim Esperanza High, taking a shot that whizzed past a drawn-out Redlands goalkeeper, clearing the ball just off the line, saving a sure-fire goal. In the rain. Chris shot a triumphant fist into the air in jubilation.
That fist pump, to me, signifies that Redlands has long made its mark in all sports, at every level, creating A Redlands Connection that can never be stripped away. One of Chris’ teammates, by the way, was Landon Donovan.
Redlands ended up losing that semifinals match.
Chris represents hundreds of Redlands sports products that will not be in any of these blog posts – good but not good enough. These blog posts are, in a sense, dedicated to them. Thanks to Chris’ mom, Jeannie, it’s a reflection of a splendid athlete, pushy parent, a professional writer and limited newspaper space.
REDLANDS CONNECTION ROUNDUP
There are at least three Redlands products that share a total of four Super Bowl rings.
A three-time Indianapolis 500 champion actually learned to drive in Redlands.
Soccer’s World Cup has connections to Redlands in both men’s and women’s lore.
There’s a World Series ring in there, 1984.
The man who personally thwarted Arnold Palmer’s chance to complete golf’s Grand Slam in 1970 later moved back to the area, thus connecting Redlands to the sport’s royalty.
Olympic gold medalist Misty May, a superstar at Long Beach State and eventual beach volleyball megastar, led her college to a national volleyball championship. The legendary setter graduated, replaced by Redlands’ Keri Nishimoto, who had a few notable achievements on her own athletic ledger.
Redlands setter Keri Nishimoto took over for legendary Misty May at Long Beach State. Photo credit: Cara Garcia
Those are the people we’re after.
This is a bond between Redlands and the major sports world beyond. And what a world it has been! And what bonds they have built up!
Redlands has been connected to the likes of coaching and managing legends such as Lombardi, Landry, Jerry Tarkanian, Tony LaRussa, John McKay, George “Papa Bear” Halas, Abe Saperstein, Tommy Lasorda, very nearly John Wooden and Knute Rockne and, quite possibly, Connie Mack.
For instance, did John Wooden recruit Redlands’ Danny Wolthers to play at UCLA in 1961?
That’s a breathless collection in this connection.
Legendary UCLA coach John Wooden may have tried to recruit Redlands’ Danny Wolthers to play in Westwood in 1961. Whatever the story, Wolthers chose to play at Cal-Berkeley. Mandatory Credit: Al Bello/ALLSPORT
Redlanders were teammates of Bart Starr, Carlton Fisk, Gaylord Perry, Misty May, Joe Namath, Orel Hershiser, Kristine Lilly, Darrell Waltrip, Fernando Valenzuela, Jennie Finch, Mark Spitz, Charles Paddock, race car dynamo Jimmie Johnson, David Beckham, Cy Young Award winners, baseball Rookies of the Year, Heisman Trophy winners, World Cup heroes, No. 1 draft choices and various Hall of Famers from different sports.
Jennie Finch, a teammate of Redlands East Valley’s Ally Von Liechtenstein at Arizona State, is shown pitching against China in 2008. Photo by C5813
Strong and historical opposition to Redlands connections has come from the likes of Bobby Jones, Amanda Beard, Ronnie Lott, Richard Petty, George Allen, Spitz, Arnold Palmer, Carl Lewis, Jack Nicklaus, plus an endless supply of baseball, basketball and football all-stars, golf and tennis legends.
In some cases, Redlanders came out on top. In many cases, they lost out to the greats.
For over a decade, Redlands caught an up-close glance of football All-Pros, NFL Hall of Fame players, MVP types, Super Bowl and NFL championships and legendary football players, coaches and executives when the Los Angeles Rams trained at the local university.
Beginning in 1985, the Redlands Bicycle Classic began a connection to a sport that led to the appearance of national and international champions, Tour de France competitors and a link to a world that continues to connect.
Redlands has been connected to Super Bowls, World Cups, World Series, Olympics, Indianapolis 500s, Kentucky Derbys, baseball division winners, NFC championship contenders, Daytona, national collegiate championships, college bowl games, NASCAR at Daytona and Talladega, major tennis and golf championships, not to mention one of the world’s greatest showtime basketball teams, the Harlem Globetrotters – and the World Series.
Bill Buster owned a five-point share in Captain Bodgit, the colt that ran a close second to Silver Charm in the 1997 Kentucky Derby.
Those are the people these blogs are about. Connections from Redlands to the outside world of sports success at the highest possible level. It doesn’t make sense that such a smallish community has become so prominent in virtually every major sport in the USA – and beyond.
