The good 'ol days...and Strat-o!

With my 30th high school reunion coming up next year, we recently received one of those typical questionnaires about remembrances from high school, etc. One of those was the wackiest thing we did during high school that we can admit we did 30 years later. I suspect the statute of limitations would never expire for some of the really nutty things many of us had once done. I wasn't much of a rabble-rouser, but I'm sure my answer in the only one of its kind. "The night Bob Thronson and I littered Matt Murray's lawn with 'Houston Flournoy for Governor' flyers before the California Governer Election in 1974."

Matt Murray was the resident king Democrat in HS, and his folks were big Dem supporters and would probably have have eventually been classified as limousine liberals (this was before there were such labels in '74), though I always suspected his dad's liberal convictions were somewhat sincere, and his glamorous wife (she really was; imagine a "nuclear" Susan Lucci!) just followed along. Best of all, though, this stunt of ours came the night before they were hosting a fund-raiser for Jerry Brown at his house in '74. And this wasn't just a few flyers we threw on the lawn. Thronson had thousands of these things, and we did a teepee job any sorority or frat would be proud of. We know it shook those folks up pretty good, especially with Brown himself due there the next night. But good thing we didn't try it the night of the fund-raiser, with Brown in attendance, as the security detail (there must have been one, no?) would probably have caught us red-handed. We also did this dirty deed the same night at the nearby Moskowitz house (guess which candidate they supported?), and David, in our grade, threatened revenge after learning it was us. As for Murray, he always suspected we were the culprits, though we never admitted as much in the day.

As for Flournoy, he was the Republican candidate who made up an incredible amount of ground in '74 and almost nailed Brown at the wire. Remember, this was only a few months after Nixon resigned, and in retrospect, it is remarkable that Flournoy made a race of it like he did, as he narrowed an over 20 percentage-point lead in the polls down to almost nothing by election day.

No, Flournoy didn't put us up to it, Thronson and I drummed this up on our own. Maybe we were motivated by Don Segretti in those days, this must have been our attempt at political trickery, circa 1974. Looking back, I think it's all pretty funny.

Another reminiscence from the questionnaire was when we were asked about some of the highlights of our lives. I don't know if I cringe more at having to answer such questions, or when having to read others brag about themselves.

So, a perfect time for some humor. And I listed as one of my highlights the night I beat my friend Jeff Powars and his 1977 Baltimore Colts with my 1977 New Orleans Saints, 21-0, in Strat-o-matic football!

In retrospect, I do consider this an accomplishment worthy of some recognition. And it's funny that as far as old Strat-o games go, I mostly recall my triumphs, whereas in days at The Gold Sheet, my recollections are mostly of games we lost, especially the more-bitter defeats. Maybe that's because I still feel guilty that customers might lose real money when they lose with our recommended TGS picks. In Strat-o, I only had to worry about myself.

The days of Strat-o were wondrous. It's a good thing that I didn't start playing Strat-o until 1975, I could see how it could have really distracted me if I started playing before I could drive and do other things. Had I became a Strat-o-matic fanatic in grade school, I might have never graduated from the 6th grade, never mind junior high, high school, or college.

Baseball was big Strat-o stuff in the day, and as another humorous aside, I am thinking of adding to the reunion questionnaire the little-known-fact that we began the 1976 Strat-o season (with '75 cards) during Mr. Schmidt's Marine Biology class.

I was in 12th grade and a few months from graduating at the time, and we were kind of care-free, especially after basketball season had concluded. It was just pure fun, those last couple of months in high school. And Mr. Schmidt was kind of a low-key teacher, so we deemed it appropriate to begin our season in the back row of his classroom, during 4th period.

In the day, we were so nuts for Strat-o that we had to play some of the games during school time, and not just wait until after school to roll 'em.

Besides, the previous season (my first with Strat-o), we had set a precedent of sorts with the season opener held during school hours, that one inside of the school library, drawing the ire of the no-nonsense librarian when we made too much noise. At other times, we would play games during the lunch break. We drafted our own "All-Star" teams during those days, and I still remember that first game of the '76 season in Mr. Schmidt's class, when I had to summon Paul Lindblad (well, his Strat-o card) out of the bullpen to save an 8-7 win over Don Dugas' team, which rallied with 3 runs in the top of the 9th on a Don Baylor homer. Lindblad got credit for saving a win for Gaylord Perry.

I admit to being ashamed that I probably remember more from that Strat-o opener, 30 years on, than anything I learned from Mr. Schmidt's class. Mr. Schmidt was great, however, maybe the funniest teacher I ever had, with a Jay Ward-type humor that often flew over our heads. In retrospect, he probably deserves better than me remembering Strat-o more than his lectures. Sorry about that, Mr. Schmidt.

In Strat-o football, however, we didn't draft All-Star teams, we used to play with the regular teams, be it the Colts, Giants, Dolphins, etc. In baseball during high school days, we might have 10-12 guys in a league. After high school, our leagues condensed a bit, and my brother Bradley started to play, so in Strat-o football he and I and four or five others would each have 3-4 teams, and would play a schedule comprising of 10-12 games, then have a playoff, and championship. We did much of this in the summer, and the "league" would take a few weeks before we would start another one. In one of the leagues, we got tired of always facing the good teams like the Cowboys and Raiders (everybody would take a good team when it came time to pick a squad), and we decided that only non-playoff teams from the previous season could be taken. That league involved 1978 teams, and I remember steering the wretched Giants into the championship game that season against the Jets, coached by Brad. I still recall the title game, when Joe Pisarcik, who could occasionally hit the deep pass (but woefully erratic on the short and intermediate stuff, and, of course, unreliable on handoffs to Larry Csonka), was enduring a difficult time vs. the Jet defense. Though he hit Jimmy Robinson with a 50-yard score to cut the deficit to 16-13 early in the 4th Q, Brad was using Richard Todd well in that game, and Todd hit Wesley Walker with a back-breaker shortly thereafter, and the Jets won 23-13.

By the time we were doing the non-playoff team league (that Giants-Jets title game season), we were playing advanced Strat-o football, but the first year or so of our Strat-o football in '78 (with '77 team cards), we played the "basic" version of the game, which made that Saints shutout over the Colts all the more remarkable. If you could strategize well enough, you at least had a chance to camouflage weaknesses in the advanced game, but no such luxury existed in the basic game outside of merely guessing "run" or "pass" correctly with your defenses.

The Saints had one of the all-time worst defenses in 1977, and were simply helpless against the run. Opponents could simply batter away mercilessly against the soft Saint defensive interior, and if an opposing coach was patient enough, he could simply off-tackle and line buck that Saint defense into submission. I endured much difficulty that particular Strat-o season (which might last about 3-4 weeks in real time) with the Saints, as for the most part I simply couldn't overcome that wretched defense.

Meanwhile, Bert Jones' 1977 card was regarded as one of the great Strat-o QB cards of his time. The '77 Colts were omnipotent, with plenty of balance thanks to Lydell Mitchell's runs, and Roger Carr'a ability to go deep presented a frightening combo for opposing defenses to deal with. In Strat-o terms, the '77 Colts should have been about 3 TD favorites over the '77 Saints.

I still don't know how I managed to get the Saints to pitch that remarkabale shutout, especially since Jeff Powars was a very capable Strat-o coach. We were beneficiaries of some turnovers, but I did emphasize a ball-control offense to keep the pigskin out of the Colts' hands. Easier said than done, especially when Powars got wise what I was up to, as there was only so much I could do with a low-risk attack, hoping to soften the Colts with Mike Strachan, Chuck Muncie, and Tony Galbreath pounding away, with an occasional short pass to TE Henry Childs (this was pre-Wes Chandler days). On some 3rd downs, however, when Powars guessed "pass" with the Colt defense, I would call "end run Archie," and Manning was even more dangeorus on the run when the opponent guessed wrong. If successful, we would take up more time on the clock than if we threw an incompletion, and I was hellbent to keep the Colts offense off the field. A couple of those Archie scrambles set up the lone score of the first half, and we went into halftime ahead, 7-0.

Behind to the Saints at halftime 7-0 was humiliating to the normally affable Powars (a USC guy), who began to get angry. As I remember, in the 3rd quarter, he finally got the Colt offense in gear, but one of those unforgettable Strat-o memories occurred next, when Bert Jones had driven the Colts inside the Saints 10, ready to level matters and surely take charge of the game. I guessed "pass" on 1st down but Powars had Jones throwing, too (Powars was incensed that I had guessed the same way as him on the rare 1st down pass), and wouldn't you know that we sacked Jones and forced a fumble, which we recovered. (I always credited that sack to Derland Moore, though we couldn't know for sure unless we were playing the advanced game). We broke off a few big plays and next thing you know, the Saints were up 14-0 late in the 3rd Q, and I started to think about the impossible shutout, which in this scenario would have been the Strat-o equivalent of Wilt's 100-point game.

Anyway, Powars panicked and abandoned the ground game, which was still the best way to attack the Saints, and started to go deep too often, and I realized as much and started to defend against the pass. The dice were certainly not rolling Jeff's way this day, and we extended the lead to 21-0 in the 4th Q before the Colts made a last stab at avoiding the humiliating shutout. Powars drove the Colts deep on their last possession, but another sack on the last play, with the Colts inside of our 10, preserved the whitewash. Saints 21, Colts 0! Still the most impossible Strat-o result of all time!

No, I hardly remember every Strat-o game I played like I do this one. At the time, however, I knew this one was unique. Plus, the fact I have recently located that same, old notebook with all of the play calls from that season has helped jog my memory about Saints-Colts, too!

Some other humorous asides in that great Strat-o season of 1978 (with the '77 cards). In a subsequent league, brother Brad had the Saints, and I had the Raiders, and, knowing the Saints' vulnerability against the run, I decided to hammer away mercilessly with Mark van Eeghen, who ended up with 46 carries in the game. Brad, meanwhile, ran Manning on those "end runs" 17 times, and while I complained that Manning would never run 17 times in a game, Brad exploded back that I was playing even more unrealistically and would have shattered the all-time NFL carries record with van Eeghen, and would have been jailed if this were real-life for my inhumane treatment of the Colgate hammer. "My" Raiders won that one, 34-20.

And, yes, occasionally, Strat-o would descend into fisticuffs, though we kept those mostly within the family, so it meant Brad and I would occasionally fight. We engaged in a handful of "flash" battles (a punch or two, nothing serious) in some of the most-heated Strat-o moments, as well as throwing projectiles such as pencils, pens, the occasional notebook in which we recorded our plays, or books.

My vote for the dullest team of all-time goes to the 1977 Falcons, who had a great defense (early version "Grits Blitz") for Leeman Bennett but a wretched, impotent offense. In one Strat-o game that season, when I had those Falcs, we went up against the '77 Bills, whose sieve-like defense was reminiscent of the soft Saints stop unit. Scott Hunter was the Atlanta QB, and had a horrific Strat-o card, so I simply abandoned the pass that game and decided to hammer at will at the soft Buffalo "D" with Haskel Stanback and Bubba Bean. At the end of the game, we had run 72 plays, 68 of them being rushes, and only 4 incomplete passes. Bean, I believe, scored on a long TD run, and we scored a defensive TD, and ended up 13-10 winners. Brad also coached those Bills that day, and was again vociferous in his complaints to me about running such an unrealistic game plan with those Falcons.

That's the way it went in the days of Strat-o football. In retrospect, one of the curious by-products of those games was that we rarely, if ever, showed mercy to one another in those games. Sportsmanship be damned, if we were up 4 or 5 TDs in the 4th Q, we would go for the throat, rarely substitute our starters, and would still be throwing the ball deep in the late going, trying to extend the leads. On a few occasions, coaches got burned when key starters would suffer injuries in those meaningless situations, but for the most part we didn't care. If we were up 45-0, we'd want to make it 52-0 if we could...

There must be some Strat-o publications somewhere that would like to have these stories. Any similar Strat-o tales from the blog would be most welcome!...