NUMERICAN NATION

The Head Wrestling Coach was Hank Littlefield, a distinguished graduate of Columbia University where he earned a Masters and Doctorate in History:

Aside from wrestling his background included judo, a stint in the U.S. Marines, and a passion for the stage.

He was considered a wizard of strategy, and motivation; believed in the team concept, and preached that only one family wore “the Maroon and Gold”.

From an academic perspective, Coach Littlefield was head of the Social Studies Department. He constantly racked my brain with provocative comments like “Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore”:

At the time, the reference went right over my head. What I learned, in due course, was that he was an expert on the Wizard of Oz; having written an allegorical assessment on Baum’s first Oz story.

Competence Confidence & Commitment, the 3Cs, were somewhat easier to understand; they were inextricably tied to Coach Littlefield’s mat presence:

1.Competence denoted the ability level of the athlete. An expectation that the wrestlers would perform to the best of their ability; and perfect their technique as the season progressed.

2. Confidence addressed the fundamental belief that each member of the team had a role to play, drawing upon the synergy of each other; as well as the opposition.

3.Commitment spoke to team and individual values in the area of initiative, character, cooperation, and perseverance.

The Three C’s constituted the ABC’s of Wrestling.

With only one Varsity Squad, competition within the wrestling room was fierce. Fisticuffs were common, across sporting disciplines as a matter of fact. Pressure was the name of the game and some handled it better than others.

The Administration appointed team captains as Hall Marshals, to address the potential for conflict spilling over into the hallways.

Coach Littlefield enjoyed the support of the Administration and expected all wrestlers to remain focused, both while on and off the mat. Names like Jimmy Lee, Mitchell Gurdus, John Carlucci, Sinclair Brown, were touted as the legends:

Bob Panoff, James Hardy, Johnny Nelson and Jim (Harris) were the seniors, and expected to carry on in their tradition. While the others had “started” before, Jim had been waiting in the wings for two years behind Sinclair and Mitchell(I sat behind Jim).

Winning the State Title was envisioned as the primary mission, a three-step process beginning with the District Wrestling Tournament at the end of the regular season.

Coach Littlefield had advanced wrestlers to the State Tournament before, however he was still in search of his first team title:

To accomplish it, he would take Newton’s logic to the third level: whenever one body exerts force upon a second body, the second body exerts an equal and opposite force upon the first body.

The Principles of Physics, taken in conjunction with the Three C’s, enabled me to master the “lateral drop and roll through counter to “the Whizzer”.

[Both moves, rather antiquated by today’s standards; what my boys refer to as “old school”.]

The regular season matches were defined as crucial to Team development and momentum.

From an individual perspective, the matches dictated varsity letter status, all county team selection standing, and “seeding” for the post-season District Tournament.

Student body support was lead by the Varsity Cheerleaders, who knew each wrestler by name and developed their own personalized cheers:

A rather remarkable feat, considering the basketball team was also competing for their affection.

Several weeks into the season I splintered a rib and had to sit out. Laura Gurdus (Mitchell’s little sister) kept my spirits up with her enthusiasm, and wisecracks about my injury prone tendencies:

Just can’t stay healthy can you? What did you do this time, trip on your way to the scales!

Laura was a rather serious academic who often sat in the stands with one eye in the books and the other on the mats. Given that the team was one of destiny, after most every victory she would whisper “next year we going to go back to back right Harris!’

You might say, Laura’s enthusiasm typified student-body expectations of the team.

It was a chaotic, tension filled, season as the team danced its’ way to first the District, then the Sectional, and finally the State-title.

Coach was like King Arthur, and the team, his Knights of the Round Table:
As one fell, another rose up to carry on.

Several under-classmen emerged along the way, including a colossal curtain closer by the name of James Davis. He was a transfer student from the State of Pennsylvania.

Davis replaced big Bob Panoff in the line-up (mid-season) and ran through the competition like a dose of castor oil: capturing the District, Sectional, and State titles in less time than it took most to win a single match.

Jim (Jr.) won the Districts, but lost a controversial decision in the Sectional finals. Johnny won the Sectionals, but lost his second match at States. Hardy wrestled his way to the State finals; where he dropped a close decision.

They along with under-classmen Alex Cunningham, and Doug Garr combined to hand Coach Littlefield his first crown:

In the process defining the Three C’s, as the “Maroon and Gold”; and elevating the Set-Up to an art form.

Their performance triggered an avalanche of recruiters and sports writers, all seeking the proverbial “pot of gold”; why coach didn’t seize the moment for himself, I don’t know.

After the season Coach, sensitive to the social disconnect created by distance, moved a wrestling mat downtown for the summer:

He had it set-up in the gymnasium at the YMCA, just around the corner from the PAL.

He continued to stressed technique, discipline, and mental preparation. We spent the summer drilling the fundamentals; battling imaginary foes, and listening to some none sense about the Wizard of Oz.

As far as Coach was concerned, the season was for the Big Show; “champions are born in the heat of summer”.

In this regard, his message was consistent with what everyone knew; the ring is no place to go looking for a lesson, either you know what to do or you wind up on your back.

Now mother was still under the impression that I was “shadow boxing”, and occasionally helping Jim prepare for competition at the next level:

She had her hands full just trying to keep track of the “little crumb snatchers”; Tuffy, Alice, and Tewanna, not to mention keeping Lloyd from stealing all of the sweet potatoes before dinner.

Starlene, known as Tuffy, recalls these as the “My Girl” years. She was only seven or eight years of age; and could Temptation walk circles around the neighborhood.

Coach, inadvertently, let “the cat out of the bag” when he called the house one evening to wish Jim well at Norfolk and mother answered the phone:

After learning that Jim was not in, he told her that he was looking forward to her support again this season. Oh well.......

Turned out that the sale of Good Humor ice cream would become (for us) a first class ticket out of the ghetto....

By the time my senior year started, I had pretty much narrowed my choice of colleges to the States of New York and Virginia.

I was relatively certain that I could get an offer from Norfolk or Hampton Institute; however I wanted to stay closer to home, if I could.

[Randy Forrest, a wrestling and football standout from Norfolk State, had come aboard as Assistant Coach.]

I wanted to study Political Science and had earned a New York Higher Education Grant: With a good senior year I figured to go to Long Island University.

Coach asked me to defer any athletic commitments, until after the season. He was in discussions with the head wrestling coach at Central Connecticut State; their program needed help, and they offered a major in Political Science.

The curriculum included many of the subjects that I was looking to pursue:

Based upon the literature, that I was provided, the student body was predominantly white; six thousand students, less than one hundred drawn from the minority population.

I saw their athletes as talented, but not gifted; with academics, the major independent variable.

Around the High School, I made a conscious effort to diversify my circle of friends, acutely aware of the racial divide: Rather than eat lunch in the cafeteria, I hung out in the courtyard with the Academics (students who kept their nose in the textbook):

Even adopted their fashion-wear; Nehru Jacket, thin leg pants, skinny tie, the full nine yards.

Now don’t get me wrong I didn’t stoop to using phrases such as “cool beans”, or dancing to Freddie & the Dreamers:

I did develop a certain affinity for the music of the Rolling Stones, and the Righteous Brothers however.

Shirley would occasionally come by, to see if I hadn’t “totally lost my mind”. Her friends were concerned that something was wrong. They had heard that I was “the Loser” and, here I was behaving most un-Loser like.

The Academics didn’t associate the street moniker with me, although Shirley and company kept trying to give them a hint. Usually in the form of some friendly banter which nobody took seriously.

Shirley and her buddies didn’t know how I came about the moniker, just that the word on the street was that her brother was the Loser; they had but to whisper the magic words to get by:

Lloyd had dubbed me the Loser a few years back, when he came across me fighting a bunch of “picaninnies” in the Projects. While he helped me out he said that I would surely be the loser for having tangled with them.

I didn’t particularly care. I tracked them down (South Carolina style), “kicked their ass like they had stolen something”.

When they claimed to not remember me I simply said, “I am the Loser and you don’t want to know”. After that the moniker took on a life of it’s own.

The Big Show was upon us quicker than I anticipated; I hadn’t started to cut weight. Coach said that it didn’t matter, as he needed someone reliable to set Davis up (to bring the curtain down).

Laura, by this time a sidekick, returned to the stands to make sure that I didn’t “dilly dally” along the way.

Shirley refused to come to the matches after being embarrassed at a pre-season pep rally; where I got pinned by Blue (Steve Berry).

It was a choreographed match that was supposed to end differently, however, Blue couldn’t resist the moment and stepped over my wizard counter catching me on my back.

He was the team prankster so everybody laughed, except for Shirley, who proceeded to smack him in the face after the match.

Fortunately he understood the sentiment and didn’t retaliate.

They would later laugh as he told her of the choreography, and his intentional double cross to hype the Big Show.

We were scheduled to open the Season on the road at Nanuet High School, to be followed by the home opener against District rival Wappingers Falls:

Coach always fed us a Cupcake, before the Big Show; no disrespect to the current program at Nanuet intended.

The Falls rolled onto campus with the equivalent of several busloads of fans. They were loud and boisterous, intent upon spoiling the opening Act.

Coach was a little nervous; and definitely didn’t want to stumble coming out of the gate. He figured that we’d win the lightweight bouts, lose the welterweights, and have to scramble like hell in the middleweights to pull off the victory (Davis was like money in the bank; “don’t worry about it!”).

It was fascinating to see both Coaches do the math; weight classes 114, 121, 127 & heavyweight to Mount Vernon; 135, 141, 147, to the Falls. Leaving “the battle ground” defined as 103, 156, 167 and 180 (with the intangible being the synergistic influence of the crowd).

While Big Jim was the star, Alex and Doug were the undisputed team leaders.

We marched out (to the mats) in team silence, barricaded by a human chain formed by the cheerleaders and the varsity reserves; slapping low 5’s all the way.

The Cheer Leaders then spun-off, to the team side of the stands, and introduced the line-up to the home-crowd. By cheerleaders, I’m referring to Janice, Laverne, Nancy, Gay, Brenda, and Marie (they signed my year-book, so I best not forget them).

If I recall correctly, the cheer went something like Edwards he’s our man, if he can’t do it Crescione can! Crescione he’s our man, if he can’t do it Cunningham can! And so forth.

The Captains then reported to the center of the mat where Alex dawned the mask of the “bad guy”, Doug the “good guy” (Doug smiled and enthusiastically shook hands with the Fall’s Captains. Alex simply stared them down in silence and shook hands as if a matter of protocol).

The match went pretty much as anticipated: Edwards, Crescione, Cunningham, and Garr staked us to the lead. Rudy, Steve and I scrambled like hell to hold on.

After my match, which I lost by one point, the Falls had us by two on the team score, however, everybody knew who was waiting in the wings.

Big Jim brought the curtain down to a thundering ovation! The final score read Mount Vernon 27, Wappingers Falls 23.

The Falls encounter set the tempo for the rest of the season; as schools like Lindenhurst, Suffern, Mepham, Pearl River, and White Plains sought to derail the Big Show:

We refused to lose at home, and on the road everyone knew “win, lose or draw, the final curtain belonged to us”.

Hate had a way of galvanizing the team turning matches into wars, defeats into victories. The ring was no place to go looking for a lesson; and “we weren’t backing off anybody, for any reason”.

Whatever was said on the mats, stayed on the mats:

A matter of the Three C’s and a singular focus on mission.

Most of the Officials observing the Big Show felt that Coach encouraged un-sportsman like behavior. They harbored ill will towards the team heading into the District Tournament.

Coach was well aware of the perceptions; told us not to allow any match to come down to a “referee’s decision” (the referee’s vote could sway the individual, as well as, overall match outcome).

What I know now, that I didn’t know then, is that the referees were less than impartial in scoring the matches; viewing the team as arrogant, and somewhat disrespectful.

[In the late 90’s, I joined the Mid-Florida Wrestling Officials Association: Within the fraternity were several officials from New York; they recalled the team, including Jim Davis and Coach Littlefield.]

We came up four points short to the Falls at the District Tournament (at Wappingers Falls):

The bouts went pretty much as anticipated; we, along with the Falls qualified ten wrestlers for the finals. The final team score was dependent upon the head to head match-ups in the upper weights:

Blue slipped, and got caught on his back; I avenged an earlier loss, and Big Jim “stuck” his opponent as expected:

Final score: the Falls 121, Knights 117 (other team scores omitted, as a matter of convenience).

Nevertheless we stormed right back the following week (at Mount Vernon), to capture the Sectional 1 Open Title by a wide margin:

I danced too much, in an effort to shield an injury received in the District final; got caught in the proverbial Referee’s decision (there is a bit of irony here, which I shall point out later).

Blue achieved a measure of redemption, by battling his way to the finals; where he dropped a narrow decision to his nemesis, from the week before.

With victories in the finals Davis, Cunningham, Garr, and Criscione moved on to the State Tournament; where Big Jim repeated as the heavyweight king. And Alex captured the lightweight title at 123 lbs.; Doug Garr finished second at 130 lbs., and Mario Criscione placed third at 115lbs.

It was the best finish in school history, as Hank Littlefield became the first coach, to execute the “back to back”.

The season ending banquet was held at the home of the Littlefield’s, and as was his way, Coach instructed us to wear a jacket and tie; “must be gentlemen in the presence of a lady, at all times”.

It was a rather emotional evening, as no one wanted to see the season end:
After dinner, Coach gave us the dbd speech (“death before dishonor”); and sent us along our merry way.

[Death before dishonor is a slogan that came from his days in the U.S. Marine Corps.]

Davis was traveling west to Trinidad Junior College in Colorado; Cunningham was heading for Norfolk State; Blue (Steve Berry) was heading for Hiram Scott, Nebraska; and yours truly, to the Blue Devils of Central Connecticut State.

Coach was also moving on; he became Head Wrestling Coach and Dean of Students for Amherst College in Massachusetts:

And as if by fate, I looked up from the mats a few years later (1970); there standing in my corner was the Wizard, screaming “get up, you know the mat is no place to go looking for a lesson!”