Dumb Dumb Daddy-O: Wood Box Wisdom from #44

The truth is the truth. My dad said this a thousand times. I've been taking it pretty hard on myself lately because this blog has taught me all the things I thought I knew about my father I didn't I now at all. After the 100th post I read all ninety nine previous posts and the inaccuracy of my memories is incredible. Its not so much the loss of memory more than the false assumptions I've based on vague recollections that make me wonder. Some memories are clear as if my dad told me about it yesterday and others are just as clear but not in words, for instance, knowing my dad had a problem with coach Tatum his junior year. He had gotten married the previous summer and the only words I truly remember are that he was seriously in the "dog house" for marrying my mother without his consent! But I know there was a lot more to it than that. There's this blog lostletterman.com and they had my dad lettering in only the 1949 and 1951 season rosters.

So I'm feeling down on myself for all the factual inaccuracies of my memories when I read this scrap of wood box wisdom. It was a little too deep for me when I read it the first time. But this time when I read it I heard my fathers voice, "The truth is the truth and there is nothing you can do to change it." He'd say just tell the story. "Don't ever let the facts get in the way of a good story. Tell it like you feel it and the truth will take care of itself."

So I'm an idiot, but the truth has not fell dead in the street! I must correct one thing though, the first team picture I posted of my dad with the 1953 National Champs banner was brutally incorrect. I was so proud of that picture. It was sent to me by a friend on Facebook , Scot A. I thought I found my dad in the picture. His number was obscured, but I thought for sure I recognized him. I posted about this picture a lot. My dad graduated in 1952. The guy I picked was handsome, but way too short. I couldn't tell this guy wasn't my father until I saw his real picture in the team photo 1951/52. Front row, standing tall.

So one night, online I flipped through all four (49, 50, 51 and 52) University of Maryland yearbooks and my dad was all over them. Team pictures, action photos, one with a teammate on his shoulders, another with a diving interception, class photos, game by game coverage of the prefect season.

I've got his career a little straighter now. I've resurrected some memories of the truth. The facts, in fact, add a lot of intrigue to the story and destroy the rather naive assumptions I've lived with my whole life. First in the 1948/49 season he was a skinny freshman. The team picture says a lot. He made the varsity, but didn't letter. His team had 7 wins and 2 losses. His sophomore year 49/50 he came into himself. He kicked some ass. Had his big interception. They went 9 wins 1 loss with a win in the Gator Bowl. My dad writes an incredible letter to my mom. They get married. My dad moves into the dog house with his coach and doesn't letter. But he's on the team and he's in the team photo (and someone else has his number), and one of him making a tackle and he's there on opening day of Byrd Stadium. In 1950 / 51 they go 7 and 2 and play in no bowl game. So I guess by his senior year 1951 / 52 he was out of the dog house, he letters and they go undefeated 10 and 0 with a win in the Sugar Bowl against Tennessee, the number one team in the nation. He had two really good years 49 and 51 and in both those years he was the difference between his team being really good verses greatness. The facts suggest that my dad made a real difference on his team. They also suggest that it wasn't easy.