The Star - News, views and advertising of the Grand Coulee Dam Area

While at the Statesman in Boise, I often covered Idaho Vandal football games. My boss, Jim Brown, was a large contributor to Idaho’s football program.

Vandal coach Skip Stahley came by the newspaper on a number of occasions, probably to keep the support going.

I was scheduled to fly to Logan, Utah to cover the Vandal-Utah State game at Logan, Utah, a flight of about an hour.

Also scheduled the same day, but later in the day, a pro exhibition football game in Salt Lake City.

I had a close friend at the Salt Lake Tribune, Dick Martin. I had worked with him at the Idaho Free Press in Nampa before he jumped ship and went to Salt Lake City.

Dick said I could use the Tribune facilities to send my Logan story to Boise and get to the pro game that evening.

I had worked closely with Dick at the Nampa paper and tagged along when he was doing a piece for National Geographic.

Dick had arranged transit from Logan to Salt Lake City with his paper’s photographer who was in Logan for the same game as I was.

I met the photographer at the appointed place and got in the back seat of his Volkswagen bug.

It was a rattle trap bug that leaked, and about two inches of water sloshed around on the floor.

I got in the back so I could write my football story in longhand and have it ready to call in when I got to the Tribune.

I met Dick at the paper and he invited me to stay the night at his house and made arrangements to go out to the pro game with the same photographer.

I called my story into my Boise sports department and climbed back into the Volkswagen bug, this time in the font.

My credentials for the game were supposed to be waiting for me in the “will call” booth.

I checked in there, but nothing was waiting for me. I explained to the person who I was with and why I was there. He said he couldn’t do anything for me for the press booth, but he could issue me a field pass and I could sit on the San Francisco bench.

That was even better, but I had no idea how this was going to work out.

I put the pass around my neck and headed out onto the field.

I tried to explain why I was there to one of the coaches who wasn’t interested except to tell me to stay out of the way, a reminder that I didn’t need. 

I took a seat at the end of the benches and tried to stay out of the way. It was a quick lesson on just how big these players are. 

I caused a slight stir among the players who referred to me as “kid.”

Little did they know that I was older than a lot of them.

After the game I rode back to the Tribune with their staffer, writing my story in longhand so I could call it in.

After that, I headed out to Martin’s house with him for what I hoped would be a restful night. Two games, under these circumstances, was indeed one game too many.