Editor’s note: This is another column in Bill Boyd’s new series, “The Way It Was,” about growing up in Marysville. Bill continues to work with the Union County Historical Society to obtain information for his stories.
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In the spring of 1950, our MHS track team was preparing for the state finals meet at OSU. We had no school track facilities, so we practiced at the Union County Fairgrounds where we shared the dirt track with a few horses pulling sulkies.
When the practice ended, our coach, Bob Wagner, told us there was a plumbing problem in our dressing room, but we could shower at the high school gym on West Sixth Street. So Bud Hoffman, Bob Patterson, and I jumped in Bob’s car and took off for the school.
Before going to the dressing room, we stuck our heads into the gym, where part of the floor was covered by a thick, padded mat, that was used for gymnastics. As soon as Bud saw the mat he said, “Hey, let’s wrestle.”
You see, television was in its infancy, and I think they broadcast more professional wrestling than anything else. A kid could watch it all day long. I think Bud, who was my closest friend in high school, thought this was a great opportunity to try out some of the things he saw those professional wrestlers do on TV.
So the three of us agreed to wrestle. But who would wrestle first? Needless to say, both of those guys wanted to wrestle me. I was a tall skinny kid, and Bud outweighed me by 50 pounds or more. He was the fullback on the MHS football team. Bob only outweighed me by about 30 pounds, and I thought I could do okay with him.
So who would wrestle first? A quick game of “rock-paper-scissors” decided that Bob and I would go first. We squared off against each other, and for the first few minutes, we were both still standing. Then I made a big mistake. I let him take us both to the mat where he locked his legs around me.
I think Bob’s upper-leg strength was the key to his two state championships in the long jump and the 440-yard dash. Once he wrapped those powerful legs around me, he locked his ankles together and began to squeeze. Oh boy, did he squeeze! And while he squeezed, he kept saying, “Say uncle, say uncle.”
I wouldn’t say “uncle” so Bob kept squeezing. Bud later told me he started to worry a bit when my face began to turn blue. I didn’t say uncle, but I came pretty close.
Then I got lucky. The gym door opened and the MHS basketball coach, Warren Widner, stepped in. He was in charge of all activities in the gym, and there was a “Donkey Basketball” game scheduled for that night. I think it was sponsored by the Kiwanis Club. So he had the three of us boys fold up the mat and take it to the storage area.
After eating dinner that night, I went back to the gym to watch that game. It was my very first Donkey Basketball game. It was also my last one. When you see a game like that, you have pretty much seen them all.
Those wishing to contact Bill Boyd can e-mail him at williamboyd514@gmail.com