The 1942 WVU NIT Championship Basketball Team A Tale for Veterans Day


In the spring of 1942, shortly following Pearl Harbor, the West Virginia University (WVU) basketball group was invited to play in the National Invitation Tournament at Madison Square Garden in New.

March 28th 1942 Stanford Mens Basketball won the National Championship.

Titles read: BASKETBALL AT THE DOUBLE (Dublin concern). United States of America. Different shots of a basketball match among the Hosquash All Stars and the Detroit Eagles as they compete.

The University of Oregon mens basketball team competed in the 1st NCAA tournament in 1939 and won the championship game against Ohio State University, 46-33. This archival footage shows.

Uncle Johnny
Rest Straightforward Johnny
2006-11-06

When I feel back on the time I spent with my uncle, I have difficulty pinpointing when I identified out he was injecting prescription drugs.

Just before my uncle moved into my home in the suburbs, I keep in mind him getting married at city hall with his now ex-wife Val. Right after that had been sporadic visits from time to time for Sunday lunches with the family members, and of course Christmas. Each Christmas he’d come to the home with oysters which we would each shuck and eat with lemon juice. Following my grandfather died, and my brother left for England, eating oysters at Christmas became our Christmas ritual as no one particular else liked the taste.

Throughout the time he was married, or maybe soon after he and his wife had split up, I sort of knew he had a drinking issue. When he took me and my cousin (his daughter) up north to go camping 1 weekend, I saw my uncle drunk and irritated. Camping was enjoyable, but toward the finish of every night when it was time for bed, his daughter didn’t want to sleep and slurred shouts were made and that was that.

After Johnny moved into my property, every little thing sort of came into view really swiftly. Unemployed, he could not afford to drink, so he joined AA and was proud of his monthly poker chip style sobriety milestones. The milestones of course meant nothing. He may have not had a ‘drink’ at the pub, or kept peach schnapps beneath the bed, but if there was Nyquil in the home, you knew exactly where to appear for the empty bottle.

That is when I discovered the needles. Soon right after he moved in I had got the flu and my mom got me some Nyquil to support me sleep. I had the bottle in my room in the basement. My uncle’s room was in the basement as effectively. I keep in mind receiving residence from college on a Friday and not getting able to locate it. My uncle left for his AA meeting and I went into his space and found the bottle empty. I rummaged via his dresser and located heaps of empty codeine bottles, blackened spoons, lighters, bloody cotton swabs, and needles. On one particular spoon was a greenish substance that looked practically like wassabi. The drawer was littered with bloody issues. It was an eye-opener, but I kept it to myself.

I wasn’t naive of intravenous drug use. I grew up listening to the Sex Pistols and was interested in the life of Sid Vicious. I can keep in mind getting so utterly depressed by the film Sid and Nancy. I read Junky and The Western Lands by William S. Burroughs and The Basketball Diaries by Jim Carroll. There had been documentaries on A&ampE, PBS, and various other stations regarding a variety of types of narcotic abuse. The “war on drugs” had educated me effectively on how and what men and women do to get up, down, and fucked.

It was effortless to see when Uncle Johnny had just shot up. His eyes had been glassy, his speech was slurred, and he moved in slow disjunctive movements. He fell asleep on the toilet, fell down the stairs, dozed off at dinner, and spent most of his time nodding off in his area watching Television or reading a book.

All through the month he would have to change injection points. Toward the end of the month was when he moved down to his ankles. That’s when I’d come house from higher-college and have to wipe drops of blood from the kitchen and hallway floors.

The week prior to his disability payment he’d be broke and ‘off’. He’d get a haircut, speak far more, eat much more, be more visible, and have chronic diarrhea a side impact of becoming ‘off’. That time of the month was the very best time of the month. The time we would talk a lot and joke about.

Then I went to University.

I in no way talked to my uncle on the telephone from University. If I did, I don’t remember. I saw him when I went back for visits, and of course at Christmas. The oyster ritual continued. At the end of a Christmas go to one year, I can remember going to his bedroom to say goodbye. His door was shut and I knocked a couple of instances prior to opening the door to locate him passed on his bed with his legs slung more than the side with his pants about his ankles a needle nevertheless dangling from a vein in his penis. For some cause I knew he wasn’t dead. I walked up to him and slapped him viciously difficult in the face, and ran out. I was at the door receiving ready to head to the airport and up came Johnny with his pants pulled up his hands rubbing the cheek I had slapped. He stated something incoherent and I left.

Sometime right after that, I was at my apartment in Ottawa and my brother called to say there had been a fire at my property. No one was hurt in the fire, but my cat did succumb to smoke inhalation and had died. The fire had began in my uncle’s space. Apparently he had lit a cigar with a match and in his dosed-up state, had basically thrown the match onto a chair ahead of going outdoors. The fire marshal noted that as most of the walls in the basement (finished by my grandfather) were made in the 1960’s out of cardboard thin sheets of wood, we were lucky the complete house didn’t go down. With a driveway full of firefighters, police, and neighbors, it was clear that my uncle was fully mashed. Because the home was my grandmothers, the fire marshal did a very type factor and reported that the fire had been triggered by faulty electrical work, therefore, guaranteeing that insurance would pay for repairs. Nonetheless, insurance coverage was unable to repair the rift that had lastly widened into a chasm between my uncle and each my mother and grandmother. He moved to a rooming home in a seedy part of Toronto and I guess everyone was a little pleased to see him go, such as myself.

In spite of every thing that had occurred, he nonetheless came for Christmas and the oyster ritual continued, and if I was in Toronto, id go downtown and see him at his rooming residence close to Yonge and Dundas and chit chat. I knew nothing at all had changed. I knew he was nonetheless employing, and I knew he had began drinking once again. I also knew there was nothing at all I could do about it and accepted him for who he was my intriguing and intelligent junky uncle.

This past Friday just after getting to function my brother named to inform me that my uncle had been discovered dead in his space. He had died in his sleep from a seemingly accidental overdose of methadone and alcohol. He was 60.

My Uncle Johnny lived at my residence for most of my high-school and University years. I really feel it essential to say that he had a constructive influence on who I am, and in spite of the options he created, he usually provided tips from the heart.

I’ve been told that, in time, the hurt will fade, only to be replaced by positive memories that soothe the soul. Already, I can feel that taking place.

Maybe it is because Uncle Johnny and I had a exclusive relationship. He was a remarkably intelligent man, and I respected his humor, stories, and confidence. He was there at times when my father was not, and even though I will often get in touch with him “Uncle Johnny”, he was, in a subtle way, a father figure.

He talked to me about items I didn’t want to speak to any individual else about, and the guidance he gave was truthful and non-patronizing. His life was filled with experiences extremely few men and women have had, and from the tales he shared with me and the mistakes he had made, I was able to make some of the appropriate alternatives for myself. Even if he didn’t intend to do that for me, he did, and since he did, I will actually miss him.

“Take it simple brother. Be cooool” is how he ended our final meeting in Toronto in September of last year. (2005)

I just want to say “You as well man. Rest easy”.
By SMOKEHARD on 2006-11-08 11:55:47
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