The graphics above marks the end of the road for this book, and right now, the challenge is sorting through all of the details that matter and then putting them in chronological order. We left off with the mention of Jim Thomas of the St. Louis Dispatch and the role he played in my life.

My run there ended after just three stories, but it still was full of memories and guidance, and it led me down the street to the ” local ” newspaper, St Charles Journal. I worked with Carla Milburn for what felt like years, and at times, it included covering something that I was a part of. I can tell you that high school golf was receiving great coverage.

Jim Thomas shared two thoughts with me about what it would take to become an ” actual ” sports writer. Getting a college education and learning how to write ” mean “. If a player underperformed, you have to be able to call them out about it.

I said that when you’re writing about high school and college ( back then, college was still non-revenue) , I don’t think you have to do that. But he was a smart man and someone I followed throughout his career, one that flourished.

The song 🎵 for this part of life was from Jimmy Buffett singing about You’ll never work in dis business again.

There were some moments during the 1980s that stuck out and will play a much bigger role in the seventh and  final book but I will sneak in a few that bring back smiles.

After my enlistment in the Navy was cut short due to them finding out about the severity of my injuries, I left San Diego and flew cross country to the campus of North Carolina – Chapel Hill. I was lost about what to do or where to go, and Joe Pittman was kind enough to offer up his sofa in his dorm room.

We went to the Blue – White basketball game, which was a blast for someone who didn’t experience things like that in life up to that point. After the game, we headed back to the dorm, and I noticed that two of the players were there as well. Sam Perkins was hard to miss because he was 6’9, and his wing span made him look even taller.

The other player was ripped but not as tall, and he had just played his very first game as a Tar Heel. Later that season, he hit a pretty big shot to beat Georgetown in the National Championship game before going on to become the greatest basketball player, like ever!

Yes, I had the dumb luck to be a witness to the first game in the career of Michael Jordan and then headed back across campus with him, all without knowing. A few years later, the Chicago Bulls played an exhibition game at the Arena in St. Louis during his rookie season, and I scored two tickets. I invited this player this young lady from the Church softball team that I coached to attend with me.

I guess that things worked out for both Mike and myself because as I type this out, my date that night is still sleeping in the next room, forty plus years later.

Another key date to the decade took place in December of 1989. The manager of the Domino’s Pizza in St. Peters was a good friend and a boss, Mark Brace. The two of us had started taking trips to various sporting events, and I mentioned that I had never been to a college Bowl game.

Duke University was always the school of choice but not for the bandwagon of fans that came decades later because of Men’s Basketball. My Dad’s family remained in the Buggs Island Lake area and there, when you were fighting to stay alive you went to Duke University Medical Center.

Mark and I jumped into our GMC Jimmy and bolted down to Birmingham. Alabama for the All-American Bowl between Duke and Texas Tech. Attending that game led to thirty-five years of chasing Bowl games, both Duke and otherwise. The picture above is one of the four books that I’ve created that has already been published.

Our coach, Steve Spurrier, left after that loss and headed down to the University of Florida. The Ole Ball Coach and his visor did okay as well. While I knew that Duke wasn’t very good in football, at the time, I certainly didn’t know that it was the first Bowl game they played in during my 26 years of life.

The 80s also included my retirement from coaching, having coached one season, won the Church League Championship, and then married my second best player. No reason to try and top that !

The journey will picks up after I move from St. Louis but there are a few key players in the story that must be introduced before we play ” Get out of St Lou”.

Bob Seger was a legendary musician who flooded the charts with hits, one after another, but it was Get out of Denver that caught the attention of an 11 year old that was just beginning to appreciate music. That song is the only one in which the Motor City rocker sounds just like Chuck Berry.

At the end of the last chapter, I introduced the name Gerry Boehm. Boehm was the first person to be a positive influence on me. Boehm taught me how to market at the high school level. Like myself today, he always gave credit where credit was due.

One of the first things we did together came from Louisiana Tech. They were creating what was called a theme poster, and we loved it. We did this together for years and expanded on it to include a book on the season, so if you count those books the number goes up considerably.

One year, we were blazing a trail, which included the entire team wearing outfits that were from the Old West. Another season, we were all wearing Lab Coats in a room full of beakers and bunsen burners.

My senior season came around, and we had a choice to make in regard to my role with the team. I could put on a uniform and sit on the end of the bench or work the program in other ways. Advance scout, writing, and a little bit of this, and that seemed like the better answer.

Dale Renken was our best player, and he eventually went on to play for Rich Grawer at St Louis University. Yes, the same Grawer who taught Boehm the game of basketball. We had an undefeated regular season that ended in heartbreaking fashion in the tournament.

The 6’7 “Renken had a cousin who was a golf professional at St. Peters Golf Course and, in his spare time, ran a disc jockey business. Both of his jobs contributed to my skill set as I became an employee of the city who worked at the course, and that led to the first time someone handed me a microphone, then told me to be entertaining.

The swing in venues was mind-boggling, to say the least. From wedding receptions to pool parties to 50-year school reunions. The day would come when Bob sold me the business, and I renamed it JB’s Rainbow.

The golf part of the story branched off in 50 different directions. I became responsible for all of our leagues and tournaments and researched how to correctly calculate a handicap ( that company was called ” Clubhouse Handicaps. My events were all outside of the box and drew folks in from all across the grewater St Louis area.

I remember a year that I wrote a third place check to a fellow named Tom Wargo. The amount was probably just $100.00, and I really wish that I had kept the check. See, a few years later, that same guy was seen winning the 1993 PGA Senior Open and 1994 Senior British Open !

Bob Renken also had family ties to a very prestigious country club a few miles up the road. Bogey Hills was the name and it was owned by the Walters family. Doc Walters founded the club and eventually handed it down to his son Dennis.

Doc had a Rolls Royce golf cart that made everyone turn their heads. I remember one particular story that changed my outlook for the remainder of my life.

While I had a great deal of leeway at the muni track of St.Peters, I was just in charge of the bag room at Bogey Hills. It was a Monday, and back then, most CCs would raise money by letting outside groups rent out the course for the day. On this Monday, it was a group affiliated with the National Football League !

The place is hoping as folks were pouring in from all around, and each group was promised a celebrity in their foursome. My responsibility was to find the bags of the members and load up their carts for them. Everyone was stoked about the event, but when Dennis approached me as the groups headed out for the shotgun start, I could tell something was wrong.

One of the registered golfers had not arrived at the course, and with the size of the checks written for the charity event, the Boss couldn’t have any group feel that they were cheated.

He looked at me and said the following ( it was 40 years ago, so I’m paraphrasing)…

In just a minute, a golf cart is going to pull up, and you are going to jump in and be their fourth. Do your best not to embarrass me.

I don’t have golf clubs, shoes or even socks. I am wearing my boat shoes ( are they still a thing ?), shorts, and a collared shirt. The look in his eyes told me not to ask questions or raise concerns, I just grabbed the first set of clubs I saw and then jumped into the fast approaching golf cart. I immediately start pestering the driver of the cart about the ” special guest ” in our group was ?

I don’t know if the three players pre-planned their fun while awaiting their fourth to show up, but I know that I fell for it, hook line a sinker.

We tee off just a few minutes late, and the conversation is free-flowing amongst the three grown-ups, and I’m trying to honor my bosses wishes to not emberrass the Club.

I am practically tugging on the shirt sleeve of the man who I’m sharing the golf cart with, asking, “Please, mister, which one of those two guys is the famous one”

We were probably on the fourteenth hole when I heard one of the other guys say the name Roger out loud. I immediately drop my head because I just realized that for the past three hours, I have been asking Roger Wehrli when I was going to meet someone famous.

If you are under 60, that name won’t mean anything, but the more recent comparison would be to say that Roger was to the position of defensive back is the same as say, Peyton Manning was to QB.

His career covered 14 seasons, seven which ended in Pro Bowls, and if you want to learn more about him, drive up to Canton and check things out for yourself. The Hall of Fame was the last stop for the player, which was the face of the Cardinals franchise.

The humility and grace that had been on display thar day was only topped by what happened roughly two or three weeks later. Lin and I were walking through one of the many malls in the area when I noticed Roger at an autograph table, maybe 50 or so, feet away. I start chuckling to myself.

Lin asked me what was so funny, and I responded, “Remember that story about Roger Wehrli? That’s him over there, which led to her asking me about going over, and that wasn’t going to happen.

Before I knew what happened, I heard him somewhat shout, get over hear Jerry Carter. From 50 feet, Roger set the bar high for just how a superstar should treat other people, even when it’s just the bag boy.

Jim Thomas of the St Louis Post Dispatch, Carla Milburn of the St. Charles Journal and my first attempt at getting people to smile, Sports and More was both hatched and folded before I left town. My parents used the area as a home base for decades, so STL was a part of the journey a number of times.

Jim Thomas went on to have a great career, and he was the person who provided me with my very first stringer paycheck ($30.00). I was provided three opportunities to cover a local high school game for one of the largest daily newspapers in the country, and the conversations that followed altered my journey forever.

We will revisit Mr Thomas more than once down the road, but how about that, Mr Bob Renken. He pushed me forward in three separate ways and for no other reason than he could.

The journey reached the middle of the 1980s and as the song says….