Yes It Is, It’s True: It’s hard to applaud when abandoned

“I got a letterman’s sweater with the letter in front I got for football and track. I’m proud to wear it now
When I cruise around the other parts of the town, I got my decal in back

“So be true to your school, now (Rah rah rah rah sis boom bah)
Just like you would to your girl, guys (Rah rah rah rah sis boom bah)
Be true to your school now”

— The Beach Boys, 1963, “Be True to Your School”

When I was sports editor of the Albion Evening Recorder, a small daily newspaper, in March 1979, Michigan State University made astonishingly easy run of the table in the NCAA basketball tournament. I had more than a casual interest for two reasons.

One was that my roommate was John Johnson, later to become communications director for the Michigan High School Athletic Association, and an incorrigible fan of “the Spartunas.” Johnson, an MSU grad, was sports information director at Albion College.

The other reason was Jamie “Shoes” Huffman, who in 1975-76 played basketball at Homer, one of the four high schools the Recorder covered on a regular basis.

Huffman averaged in double figures scoring for Homer in his junior year, but he was lured by the bright lights and greener grass to transfer in his senior year to Lansing Everrett, where he had a relative as a district resident, so he was legal. In those primitive days, before Schools of Choice, you could transfer from one school system to another only if you were living with a legitimate relative of guardian in that district.

So Huffman wasn’t true to his school. He abandoned his hometown and school to become a teammate of Earvin “Magic” Johnson. I didn’t believe Huffman’s move was based on academics, but then again I maintain today that most Schools of Choice transfers are all about sports — and ultimately scholarships and money.

Huffman was a pretty fair country ballplayer who knew that virtually every collegiate recruiter was watching Magic play for Lansing Everett. Therefore, if Huffman played pretty well himself in these closely watched ballgames, he might get in on a piece of the action.

Magic finally committed to Michigan State in the spring of 1977 and Huffman, Everrett’s second leading scorer, followed. So both were on that 1979 championship team.

The Spartans were blowing everybody away one at a time in the tourney and their games were so boring by the second half that CBS broadcasters were scrambling to find something interesting to talk about. Magic had long since retired to the sidelines with the game well in hand.

But in one particular contest, former Marquette coach turned color analyst Al McGuire struck gold in the humor department when he noticed bench-warmer Huffman lost a shoe on the court and had to retrieve it and re-tie the shoelaces frantically while the game was still being played. McGuire essentially remarked that here’s a kid who finally gets on national TV with a great team and is a teammate of Magic Johnson, but he loses a shoe, so his big shining moment is trashed.

McGuire went so far as to personally interview Huffman at the start of the next tournament game on national TV, and the joke became one of the biggest stories of the tournament — at least until the big finals matchup between Magic and Larry Bird of Indiana State.

The legend of “Shoes” Huffman was well established, at least for awhile, but I never heard anything about him afterward, except a press release in April sent by his proud mother, outlining the whole story for me to publish. I declined the opportunity.

I had two reasons. One, everybody and their brother or sister who cared knew that nationally televised story and I didn’t want to rehash it all over again. Two, I was still uncomfortable with Huffman abandoning his Homer teammates for the bright lights and big time. I thought the whole thing was manufactured and a minor amusing incident was turned into a pseudo sports feature story all because McGuire chose to make it just that.

These days, with the advent of Schools of Choice, there are few or no regulations to stop schools from robbing athletes from one another and the result is a free-for-all at the altar of winning. We saw it up close and personal last winter with Grand Rapids Christian and Xavier Tillman and a few others. These teen-agers, and more importantly, their parents, have used the system to play for a more successful team, for a certain coach or use better facilities, or to be more noticed to further their own careers.  This turns teen-aged athletes into mercenaries and helps ensure that poorer districts or those at a disadvantage in athletics will remain so.

Schools of Choice creates winners and losers. Those who are blessed with good teams and facilities will continue to have them because of the ability to bring on board neighboring schools’ athletes. Those who lack personnel or equipment needed for success will continue to struggle. It isn’t fair.

When we worship winning in the arena of Bread and Circuses, we brush aside the concept of loyalty, humility and morality.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, saying that you’re my friend… You just wanna be on the side that’s winning.” — Bob Dylan, 1965, “Positively Fourth Street