Table full of Trojans stirs the memories

ROGER CARLSON

I’ve always felt the University of Southern California was home to

the largest campus in the nation, so big you have to travel south on

Figueroa to reach the battlefield at the Coliseum in Exposition Park,

and in order to find the heart, you must go east to Interstate 110,

south on 110 to Interstate 405, south on the 405 to State Route 55

and south to the gates of Newport Beach.

The theory was further cemented a few nights ago when the Trojans

gathered for the second straight year at the Anaheim Hilton for The

Sportsman of the Year Award where USC football coach Pete Carroll was

toasted and roasted in the name of the Orange County Youth Sports

Foundation, which has done a lot for youngsters over the years.

There was a lot of Newport Beach in that roomful of heavyweights,

with Linda Isle star Paul Salata near the hub.

The selection of Carroll, the Division 1-A Coach of the Year by

the American Football Coaches Association, was a bonus, coming off

last year’s selection, Carson Palmer, and the proceeds helped push

the overall numbers beyond the $1 million mark in the 34 years they

have been doing this.

Many of the big guns for USC were there, among them Stan Morrison,

Dave Levy, Tom Kelly, 90-year-old Rod Dedeaux and Marlin McKeever, as

well as many others, among them Sammy Lee and Dick Bass.

Levy explained the nuances of football chatter in his own,

inimitable, way, Dedeaux stole the show, McKeever was great and Kelly

was Kelly.

For me it was the appearance of Morrison who stirred the memories.

A funny guy with a unique delivery, I could not help but think back

as he made his presentation to “Pedro Carroll” to recall a night I

made a trip to Morrison’s home in Rialto in 1983 where I and a

sportswriter from the Register named Tom Keegan would verify the fact

the Trojans had landed a prep basketball phenom named Tommy Lewis of

Mater Dei.

“You two guys certainly have some great friends at Mater Dei,”

said Morrison as we stood around a dining table for a few minutes in

a scenario which just doesn’t happen.

We were there simply to confirm stories we had already written

earlier in the day of Lewis’ decision to cast his lot with the

Trojans, and the following day Mater Dei would have an official press

conference to announce Lewis’ decision.

Both of us had been working on the story for weeks and to suggest

we had some sort of an edge with an “inside contact or two” would

have been the understatement of the year.

It was an ultimate beating for the Los Angeles Times, which had

been on Mater Dei’s case for months because of various rumors of

recruiting misdeeds involving the super-talented Lewis.

Keegan and I had made our views known, too, but the Times writers

must have really got under the Monarchs’ skin and, well, Keegan and I

would be the first to admit collusion, combined with dirty tricks, to

ace the Times with one of the all-time beatings.

Kosher? Hardly. Guilty feelings? Are you kidding? We relished in

the victory with a complete night of laughter, which stretched out to

weeks and months in the aftermath whenever we were in contact.

The next day as the red-faced Times writers awaited on the Mater

Dei campus for the press conference, my story, complete with a very

large, crisp, color photo of Lewis and his coaches at a table with

press guides in front of them, topped by the Trojans’ press guide,

was already published and in their office.

Keegan’s rendition in the Register wasn’t as flashy without the

great photo, but it didn’t matter. The Times, despite using every

available option to get the story, was squashed on what was clearly

the prep story of the year.

Morrison was right, Keegan and I were held in good light by the

Monarchs. But he was only half-right. The other side was the dislike

and pure animosity which the Monarchs held for the Times writers.

That was really the key to our success, which we happily accepted.

The trip to Morrison’s home was a matter of insurance to make sure

NCAA rules were satisfied and the next day’s story and photo remain

one of my most underhanded, and happiest, accomplishments.

Morrison could not comment for publication, but there was nothing

to stop us from describing seeing Morrison that night, with a huge

smile on his face on a night I will never forget.

All of it was crystal clear as Morrison finished out his customary

delivery in broken Spanish.

I was at Bob Hoyt’s table at the banquet with his grandson,

Colorado-bound Peter Hoyt of Newport Harbor High, and flanked by

former Mater Dei High football coach Dick Coury, an Orange County

legend, and Huntington Beach’s Jack Richmond, the banquet chairman.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

No one is exempt from the roasting pit at these sort of bashes.

An arrow for Arizona State was one of the best: “What do you say

to an Arizona State graduate when you see him?”

Answer: “Thank him for the pizza and shut the door.”

Everyone was very happy with the big turnout, the second year in a

row, and if were a betting man, I think I’d bet the house that next

year’s winner will be cloaked in cardinal and gold, too.

The golden-tongued Levy, who coached Long Beach Poly to

back-to-back CIF championships in 1958 (led by Player of the Year Dee

Andrews) and 1959 (led by Player of the Year Willie Brown), would be

my choice, allowing him the opportunity to expand on the language of

the game.

It was a great night for USC, although once again it seemed to

demonstrate that it is one of the more unique educational

institutions in the nation with no apparent president or athletic

director.

Among several items auctioned off was four tickets to an Angels

game with the privilege of tossing out the first ball. Would you

believe it went for $5,000?

Hey! See you next Sunday!

* ROGER CARLSON is the former sports editor for the Daily Pilot.

His column appears on Sundays. He can be reached by e-mail at

rogeranddorothea@msn.com.