The Key to Physical Attraction…It’s Called “Gravity” (and “Love”)

As unlikely as it may seem, the language of science has expressions in common with the language of love. The notion of  “physical attraction”  has roots in both. We humans are selectively attracted to others during our lifetimes, yet we are constantly attracted, in reality, to everyone and every thing in the universe as revealed by Isaac Newton in his masterwork of science, the Principia. Two marbles, one inch apart on a smooth table, exert an attractive force on one another which would tend to draw them together, except that the force is too small to overcome the rolling friction on the table. Yet, on the larger scale of the sun and planets, the forces of attraction between such massive bodies are immense.

 “Falling” in love may happen but rarely in our personal lives, yet we are, in fact, constantly falling – even though we are not conscious of the reality. All earth-bound denizens fall constantly… toward the sun as the earth orbits our nearest star. That motion, due to gravity, of continually “falling toward the sun” works in concert with a component of planetary motion tangential to the orbit to define the path of our earth around the sun. That tangential component of motion represents the inertial path the earth would take if the gravitational attraction to the sun suddenly ceased. The concept of  “gravity” has historically been one of mankind’s greatest comprehension challenges – one of nature’s great mysteries.

 

Early man’s curiosity as to why things apparently fall toward the center of the earth was at least temporarily assuaged (for hundreds of years) by Aristotle’s assertion some two thousand years ago that the earth’s center was the “natural center of the universe,” hence the logical place for objects to congregate (prior to Copernicus in 1543, the sun and planets were assumed to revolve around the earth). The great mathematician/scientist, Johannes Kepler, in the early seventeenth century was an early disciple of Copernicus’s sun-centered solar system and one of the first to seriously contemplate what kind of natural, physical mechanism was at play to keep the planets moving around the sun as they do. He conjectured that perhaps some form of solar, “magnetic” winds or vortices swept the planets along in their almost-circular paths. It was generally believed, prior to Newton, that whatever phenomena, or “force,” that caused apples to fall to earth was distinct and different from the celestial forces that held the heavens together. For a long time, celestial motions beyond the moon were even attributed to divine influence and motivation.

It took the genius of Isaac Newton to declare, in his 1687 milestone book on science and mathematics, that earthly gravity and heavenly forces are one and the same – hence, universal. Indeed, Newton claimed that all objects of mass in the universe attract all other objects to greater or lesser degrees via the force of universal gravitation. He stated that the nature of gravity and the equation which describes how it works is applicable everywhere and at all times – a truly “universal” law of nature! Although Newton explained the scientific version of “physical attraction,” he wisely made no attempt to explain the underpinnings of the version expressed in the language of love. Nor will we! That remains as captivating and mysterious as ever and seemingly beyond the ability of science and mathematics to explain.

But Newton really did not explain what gravity is or why it acts the way it does; he admitted so in the 1713 second edition of the Principia stating: “Non fingo hypotheses,” which, translated from Latin declares, “I feign no hypotheses!” He was criticized by his peers for his advocacy of this mysterious force-at-a-distance; they asked, “How can a body like the sun transmit, through empty space, the tremendous forces necessary to steer the planets?” His contemporary critics should have called to mind that other mysterious force which travels through space – magnetism, in the form of the magnetic field – which also has the power to attract objects. Newton was sage enough and courageous enough to stick by his contentions even though he could not explain them all. Although his famous equation does not hint at why gravity works the way it does, it describes precisely how it works – well enough to be used by NASA for its precise orbital computer computations. Despite the tremendous success of his theory of gravity and his numerical analysis of it, Newton did not – could not at that time – grasp the true essence of gravity. This is a remarkable situation which aptly reflects the reality that science will continue to inexorably peel-back, layer by layer, the deepest mysteries of our existence. Sometimes, genius like Newton’s transcends the state-of-the-art and “the possible”…for a while.

 Albert Einstein Peels Back Another “Layer” of Gravity

It took Albert Einstein’s 1916 general theory of relativity to go Newton “one better” and unmask the true face of gravity. Planets including the earth go around the sun in almost-perfect circles (ellipses) and not off into distant space not due to an explicit force of attraction between themselves and the sun as Newton proposed; Einstein showed that they are merely following a “natural path” determined by the curvature of four-dimensional space-time around the sun. That curvature is caused by the presence of the sun’s mass. All bodies of mass curve space-time in their vicinity. Einstein advanced physics immeasurably by contributing this radically unique physical interpretation of all gravitational effects. The complexity of Einstein’s mathematics in the general theory of relativity required to demonstrate this conclusively dwarfs Newton’s simple equation for an attractive force as presented in the first illustration of this post. Nonetheless, Newton’s achievement regarding gravity remains one of the greatest milestones in the history of science.

The Makers of  Universes!

George Bernard Shaw’s famous toast to Albert Einstein who was sitting near him at a tribute dinner held in 1930 at the Savoy Hotel in London, is well-known and oft-referred to. After extolling the virtues of mathematicians and scientists who, through the ages, have built “universes” instead of merely fractious empires like Napoleon and others, Shaw concluded by saying, “Ptolemy [the early astronomer/philosopher] made a universe which lasted 1400 years; Euclid [the great mathematician and founder of modern geometry] also made a universe which has lasted for 300 years; Einstein has made a universe, and I can’t tell you how long that will last!” Einstein is shown in the grainy black and white film footage clearly letting-go a big belly-laugh. Science does move relentlessly forward – always with a great assist from mathematics. Look at where we are today. Love and science do go together: To love studying the history of science and its impact on humanity is to experience what I call the “joy of science.”

Despite the phenomenal track record science has compiled while continually advancing the state of our knowledge and well-being, the greatest of all mysteries may prove to be beyond the comprehension of science: Who is the ultimate maker of universes and what can we truly know about that?

One of Einstein’s famous quotations says it beautifully: “The most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead, a snuffed-out candle. To sense that behind anything that can be experienced there is something that our minds cannot grasp, whose beauty and sublimity reaches us only indirectly: this is religiousness. In this sense, and in this sense only, I am a devoutly religious man.”

Two Teachers: People Who Touch Our Lives in Ways Big and Small

Last month I was scanning the obituary pages of the San Jose Mercury News, our local paper. This is a new habit for me, albeit only an occasional one. My wife has long made it a point to regularly check the obit pages; I never did…until the last few years. I have come to understand the rationale: There are so many abbreviated life-stories on display. I always check the birthdate of the deceased, but only after looking at the picture first, when present. When the birthdate is in the 1920’s or the early 1930’s, I feel a sense of reassurance (I was born in 1940) that I still have some living left – at least statistically. But I focus more on the faces in the pictures; it is often easy to identify those who presumably led happy, productive lives by studying the images, especially when the deceased is portrayed both in the bloom of youth and the later years when life has left its imprint. The written obit, of course, fills-in the blanks, typically revealing lives well-lived, but not exceptional stories. Once in a while there are major surprises like the kindly old face looking out from the page who, as a strapping young man, flew 20 B-17 bombing missions over Nazi Germany in World War Two. The obituary pages provided me with one of those surprises of which I speak just last month.

Two People – Both Teachers – Whose Recent Passing
 Re-kindled Good Memories for Me

Two former teachers of mine passed away recently. The second of the two touched my life, but briefly. I was casually scanning the obituaries last month when I encountered a rather poorly reproduced black and white picture of an attractive middle-aged woman. (The color version and the younger picture used here are from the website obituary). The write-up which followed related that this woman was, for twenty-seven years, a dance instructor at San Jose State College, located just south of here. I looked intently at the picture and thought, “No, it can’t be,” but it was.

At that time, she was Mrs. Smith, my social dance class instructor at the college in my freshman or sophomore year – way back in 1958 /59. As an engineering major at San Jose State, I fortunately enrolled in Mrs. Smith’s class to 1: Learn to dance well (came in handy), and 2: To meet some coeds. It all worked according to plan! I had a chance to meet young women (noticeably absent in engineering and math classes in those days!) and to dance with them. It was such a great class experience that I made it a point to enroll in social dance class every term after transferring to Stanford University for my junior year. In one of those classes, I met a girl who I dated on a regular basis during my last year at Stanford. It sounds funny to speak of “dating” in this day and age; it was a whole other world back then!

I recall Mrs. Smith (her married name at the time) as a vibrant, personable, and attractive young woman with the grace, figure, and long-legs of a dancer – which she truly was. She had red hair and a freckled complexion…and she had style.

 The obituary noted that she died in a Utah nursing facility at the age of 80.

I was enrolled in her dance class for only one or two terms, but stumbling upon her obituary in the paper by chance really set me back on my heels. She was a fine dance instructor whose teaching and personality made that class period one of my many happy experiences at San Jose State.

I tried to visualize her at eighty years of age and in a nursing home; it was difficult when viewed in the light of my memory of her as a young woman. The situation crystallized the reality we all ultimately face; I am no stranger to the thought of our mortality, but the particular chance experience of recalling Mrs. Smith after so many years and in such a contrasting light did shake me a bit, causing me to stop and seriously reflect.

I went to my den shelves and pulled out one of the many notebooks from my considerable stash of college materials I have saved for lo, these many years. It was a social dance class spiral notebook which I compiled during the course. I tried to apply some humor in the form of brief quips to the “footstep pattern sequences” which I had diagrammed for the various dances such as the foxtrot, tango, waltz, etc. At the front of the book, I made references to the then-famous dance instructor, Arthur Murray, by writing with tongue-in-cheek, “My deepest thanks to Arthur Murray without whose assistance, I could never have written this book.” Just above that on the front page, Mrs. Smith assigned me a course grade of A- and, in red ink, wrote,

“My deepest thanks to Al Kubitz without whom (& people of similar ilk) teaching could become quite ordinary.” That meant a lot to me at the time.

A few years back, I tried to cull-out some of the many memorabilia I had saved from my college years. I paused as I held that little notebook over the trash can…and decided to hold on to it. I am so glad that I did.

Carl “Berny” Wagner: San Mateo High School and Track
A Person and Coach Who Changed Young Lives

San Mateo High School’s senior class of 1958 sat through countless lessons during the four years spent inside that venerable, old brick building which dated from 1924. We learned history, we learned to diagram sentences, we learned some Spanish, French, and German, and we learned about angles and triangles in geometry. As important as those classroom lessons were to our futures, the most valuable lessons I took away were those that I learned on the athletic fields. I wrote at length about those athletic experiences in my blog post of February 2, 2014, Life-Lessons Learned from Playing Sports. What I have to say about our track and field coach, Berny Wagner, in this post will have much more clarity if you have read that piece on sports (available in the blog archives).

Berny Wagner, just  as I remember him at San Mateo High – 1957

I sadly noted Berny’s obituary last year in The Stanford Magazine, Stanford University’s alumni magazine. Beside the many insights he provided me personally as I worked to become a proficient hurdler on his varsity track teams, the lasting lesson I learned from Berny was the importance of class and excellence in athletics and in life. Those of us young lads who were fortunate enough to come under Berny’s tutelage learned, first hand, how to be a “winner” in athletics. Yes, he taught us how to compete successfully – to win – but he also taught us how to compete fairly with grace, dignity, and class.

Coach Wagner was infallible when it came to highlighting those personal and athletic traits which distinguish winners from “losers.”

As a runner on Berny’s track team, you learned to NEVER slow down three or four yards from the finish line of a race no matter how exhausted you felt – even in a distance event and even though the victory  is clearly yours. You always ran through the tape at the finish line. In the short, quick sprints, you had better not be seen showboating, breasting the tape at the finish with hands held high overhead in a “victory salute.” Coach emphasized that only a fool would relinquish a victory in a close finish by not leaning hard into the tape and thereby gaining precious inches which could have been the winning margin.

I will never forget one of his pet peeves as a track coach and a specific illustration of his insistence on competing with class. One spring day early in the season, as the entire track team was assembled for a brief meeting on the infield grass, Coach Wagner made clear that he never wanted to see any of his athletes competing in track spikes wearing argyle street socks as opposed to athletic “sweat socks” (or no socks). Coach did not need to tell me that…but there are always a few who just don’t get it, so he made that quite clear to us all. I distinctly recall him saying, “If you don’t care enough about your sport and your event to show up at a meet properly equipped, you have no business being out there in the first place!” Amen. He and I were totally on the same page in all such things. Sure enough, I saw them out there during our track meets, kids from the other teams competing in spikes and gaily-colored street socks; those competitors rarely placed well in their events, and they looked ridiculous next to Berny’s boys.

Coaching track and cross-country, even at the high school level, was not a sideline duty for Berny; it was the major part of his role on the faculty. He was a dedicated and intelligent student of the sport of track and field and held B.A. and M.A. degrees in education from Stanford University. His coaching career began at the high school level and took him to a ten-year stint as head track and cross-country coach at Oregon State University; it was there that he developed the gold-medal winner in the high jump at the 1968 Olympics, Dick Fosbury. Fosbury had perfected the then-unique-to-him high jumping style famously known as “the Fosbury Flop” and revolutionized the high jump event using it. It has long been the universally-used technique. Later in his career, Coach Wagner coached two Olympic squads and settled into executive positions within the governing bodies of track and field in the U.S.A.

Berny’s multiple talents were evident even to us young lads on his 1958 championship track and field varsity team at San Mateo High School. He had great goals and plans for his young athletes, and he executed them with precision and discipline. He ran a great program. Everyone knew the practice plan for each day’s workouts and each event. There was no uncertainty, no confusion. Observing some of the league’s other coaches in action, we sensed how fortunate we were at San Mateo. Time would amply validate our good fortune as Coach Wagner went on to bigger and better things. His greatest coaching thrills were yet to come.

Coach Wagner and my indebtedness to him had been on my mind for many, many years after graduation. I knew of his later successes, but had not seen him since high school. I was not even sure how to locate him in June of 2011 when I finally decided to make an all-out effort to thank him for all he did for us boys. It was not so easy locating him; I wrote letters and made phone calls. Finally, I learned that he had suffered a very severe stroke several years prior, was partially immobilized, and was in an assisted-living facility in Corvallis, Oregon. I sent him the following letter: 

Dear Coach Wagner,                                                    June 17, 2011

 Do you recall your championship San Mateo High School track team of 1958? This is your senior high hurdler (and lows, too) from that team, Al Kubitz. So many years have passed, yet I remember vividly those days at San Mateo High, particularly my experiences on the track team and the great good fortune I had to be coached by you. You were the most influential of all my teachers – I felt it then, and the years since have amply verified it.

 You were the perfect mentor for us young guys; you were respected for your coaching competence and organized approach and well-liked for your obvious dedication to us student athletes. The lessons I learned in the process of striving for and achieving my goals in track and through our association have guided me throughout my life. I wanted you to know that!

 I am enclosing some pictures that I hope will bring back pleasant memories. A few are from my scrapbook and 1958 yearbook. In addition, I am sending you an excerpt written some time back as part of my unfinished memoirs. It is an account of my experiences with track and why they meant so much to me. I thought you might find some of it interesting; at any rate, please be sure to read the last two pages.

 After San Mateo, I graduated from Stanford University in 1963 in electrical engineering; I retired from that great career in 2001. Linda and I have two daughters and four grandchildren. I am hoping that one of my two young grandsons will have long legs and a knack for hurdling – who knows?

 I learned … that you have been battling some medical challenges the past few years. I wish you all the best in that regard and want to thank you again for all you have done for so many of us who had the great good fortune to cross paths with you through sports.

I followed up that letter with a phone call so that I could thank him and wish him well “in-person.” I am so glad that I did that when I did. There exist many similar, personal testimonials to Coach Wagner: He truly left his mark while training boys to be men.

The Beatles: What Has Become of Pop Music?

Fifty years ago to the day I began writing this post, an obscure quartet of young, musical lads from across the pond landed in New York, their first visit to the “New World.” Following three successive Sunday night appearances on the venerable Ed Sullivan television program, the winds of excitement created by their fresh, ebullient musical performances caused a severe “muss” to America’s musical hairdo.

Put simply, they took America by storm while creating a new musical genre and a boost to the recording/entertainment industries that was unparalleled. How did they, in three weeks, go from virtual unknowns out of Liverpool, England, to being the toast of America? Thank America’s then-burgeoning television and communication networks for spreading the word, but look for the real answer in the entertainment value they offered. They played great music – tunes with melody, harmony, and that ever-present beat supplied by Sir Ringo on drums. They also turned out to be very competent song-writers in the personas of John and Paul.

As was the case with a very young Frank Sinatra who set the tone in the early nineteen-forties, young girls went Ga-Ga over the lads with the long haircuts. Like Sinatra, they played to screaming audiences and girls who fainted. The same enthusiasm was not forthcoming from some of the older set who, at first, viewed the Beatles’ English mod-style and haircuts with some apprehension; what else is new under the sun? Before long, many of them were also on-board, at least musically.

As individuals, the Beatles were an interesting lot. There was Paul, who, on first impression, seemed to be the extrovert and “face” of the group. There was Ringo, whose mop of hair swung happily to-and-fro as he knocked-out the Beatle’s backbone-beat on his Ludwig drums. Ultimately, George was the quiet, private one of the group while John was revealed as the mystic, the free-thinker, the hippie.

The colorful personas of the Beatles did not hurt their cause, but there was much more than that involved: They played good music…with a flair. I still get a chill watching that first Ed Sullivan television show, the night America was introduced to the lads from Liverpool. When Sullivan waved his hand toward them and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen… the Beatles!” and they launched into their flagship song, you immediately knew that this was something special. You felt the excitement of something new, something different, something that would not quickly blow-over and be gone. The Beatles offered-up unforgettable music and genuine excitement that first night in New York.

The same was true of Sinatra after he left Tommy Dorsey’s band to go out on his own in 1941 as a vocalist. Performances featuring Sinatra, a vocalist with musical support behind him, were a radical departure from the then-pervasive concept of a big-band spotlighting occasional brief vocal interludes. Sinatra made it big on his own, right from the beginning, ultimately arriving to the point in the nineteen-fifties where big studio bands and orchestras provided background support for his most famous recordings. He demanded and got the best studio musicians and musical arrangers extant, and the results reflected that fact. Despite all the first-class backup, Sinatra could really SING…and interpret the music. It all came from him. Like the Beatles, Sinatra was the real deal. Oh yes, there was another fellow who came in-between Sinatra and the Beatles and also stirred up some real musical excitement; his name was Elvis Presley.

Two events prompted me to write this particular post: The fiftieth anniversary of the Beatle’s arrival in New York, and the appearance of an editorial in our local newspaper written by Leonard Pitts Jr. of the Washington Post. The byline reads: Music has lost its edge – even today’s youths agree. As a former pop music critic, he is often asked his opinion of music today. He relates to being bored by much of it and goes on to say, “much of it feels corporate, cold, plastic, image-driven, less reflective of talent than tech, more programmed than played.” He goes on to add, “Of course, the old folks are not supposed to get the young folks’ music. That’s the whole point of the young folks’ music.” I believe he hit the nail on the head – on both counts. Even some young listeners have begun to express boredom with today’s performance-extravaganzas which masquerade as pop music.

For me, today’s music is much more a reflection on the talent of the tech-folks behind the scenes who “stage” the performance than on the performer’s “talent.” I see great visuals like programmed lasers and incendiaries, and I hear thunderous audio, distortion-free and balanced, but I hear no melody, no real harmony, and no discernable lyrics from the “performers.” I do hear much shouting, screaming, and gesturing some of which is not so PC. I am not impressed. I believe Pitts got it exactly right in his column. I ask, “Whatever happened to the great songwriters, the great music, the truly-talented performers of yesterday?

Pitts sagely observes part of the answer to the question – that the younger generation has always looked to something new, something different, something their parents either do not approve of or do not understand. I am afraid that attitude, along with the “dumbing-down” and commercialization of the music/entertainment business has taken us off into the weeds.

For me, the rose garden of the music business was the decade which spanned the mid-thirties to the mid-forties – the era of the big bands and the immensely talented songwriters and arrangers whose efforts made their music unforgettable. It was smooth, it was lyrical, it was exciting, it was jazz, it was romantic, and it was all eminently danceable. Although the economics which made the big bands of Artie Shaw, Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, and Harry James possible are never to return, my fondest hope is that young people will see fit to put aside the generational forces at play and re-discover their fabulous music. Fortunately, much of it is still available on well-restored CD tracks, waiting for new audiences to discover, for themselves, the musical treasure that they represent.

In the meantime, let us rejoice in the memory of those four talented lads from Liverpool who captivated America’s musical sensibilities almost fifty years ago. Unlike so much that we hear today, their music was truly worth all the excitement that ensued. It forged a unique niche in our musical memory and culture and will be fondly recalled and enjoyed for a long time to come.

 For previous blog posts of mine on the subjects of music and the big bands, click on the “Home” page and go into my post archives. Clicking on the red keywords on the right-hand side of the “Home” page can also take you to the posts.

The First Anniversary of Reason and Reflection

This is my 52^nd post on this blog! Since I post every Sunday morning, this completes my first year of blogging. Thank you for following me this past year; I plan to keep-on keepin’-on for at least another year. I am not on Facebook or Twitter; if you are and have enjoyed this blog, please pass along its URL to friends and acquaintances who might also like what I write. Remember, too, that comments (replys) are always welcome. Thanks!

Life-Lessons Learned From Playing Sports

Few experiences in life were more beneficial to me than the lessons learned from competing in high school track and field. Other learning experiences came from my earlier involvement with baseball and later mid-life involvement with tennis. Most revelations were of the positive kind; a few were not, of course. My two track events in high school were the high and the low hurdles.

I am the proud possessor of two gold track medals and a bronze! No, they are not from running track at the Olympics, but from my 1958 senior year in track at San Mateo High School! Yes, I know, the gulf between such accolades is immense, but those awards, nevertheless, mean a great deal to me because of life-lessons learned along the athletic path leading to May 9, 1958 when they were handed to me by our high school track coach. That little “ceremony” took place on the infield of Burlingame High School’s track, the site of our Peninsula League meet finals that afternoon.

On that day, the San Mateo High Bearcats pulled off a most surprising local sports upset by defeating the heavily-favored Burlingame Panthers for the league track and field title. Every team member was awarded a gold medal for the team victory. The other gold is the one that means the most to me, for it symbolizes my victory in the league meet over the best high-hurdlers from the other schools in our league. It remains one of my most prized possessions. The bronze medal was awarded for finishing third in the low hurdles final. Overall, I had a very good senior year in track in 1958.

The 120 yard high hurdles race was run over ten 39 inch barriers spaced ten yards apart. At the Olympic level, the race is an equivalent 110 meters over ten 42 inch barriers – a height well above most people’s navel. The world record in the 110 meter high hurdles is just under 13 seconds, today – a phenomenal feat of speed and athleticism.

Early Experiences in Sport – Everyone Can Relate

I recall that my first insights regarding athletics came from schoolyard days at Lomita Park School in Millbrae, California, beginning in grade three. Do you remember playing kick-ball and dodge-ball? I do, and it was on the schoolyard while playing these recess games that I first realized that some kids are blessed with “natural” athletic ability, some kids are hopelessly uncoordinated, and the rest of us fall somewhere in the “great middle.”

Although reasonably coordinated, I recall my frustration with kick-ball as the ball squirted off my foot at an angle and low to the ground, kick after kick. I also recall the towering shots that inevitably came off the foot of a female classmate, Lela Mae. I can still picture her: Slightly pudgy, with freckled cheeks, hair in hanging ringlets, and a booming foot that regularly sent the ball over the outfielders for home-runs. Likewise in dodge-ball: When Lela Mae tagged you with the ball, it really stung! Donald, another classmate, also seemed so much better than the rest of us in these events.

Throughout grade school, I was never the first to be chosen for P.E. or recess teams; luckily, I was not one of the last, either! Thus it was with early grade school athletic experiences. I did begin to notice, however, that when the P.E. teacher had us run sprint races, I was inevitably one of the two or three fastest in the class.

In Junior High, the recess sport was tetherball. Once again, I was embedded in the upper region of the “great middle” (of the pack), no match for a few taller, well-developed boys who, with one initial punch on the ball, could watch bemusedly as the rest of us haplessly flailed at the ball to keep it from winding completely around the pole in one “hit.”

High School Baseball: Can Field Some, but Can’t Hit

In high school, I tried out for freshman/sophomore baseball and got a uniform, but rarely played. I came to high school baseball with no real playing experience except hours spent in the backyard playing “catch” with playmates or with my dad in earlier years. Initially, I excelled at one thing as an aspiring outfielder: When coach would hit us long fly-balls in practice, I was quick to run up on the ball…only to realize far too late that it was sailing over my head! Quite embarrassing, initially, but I did catch-on and became a decent outfielder. I was a lousy hitter, however – a sure ticket to the bench. Despite my lack of baseball accomplishments, I learned about team sports and what is required of a good ballplayer. I know that Coach Alexander was impressed with my hustle and attitude in practice; my good example, not my inherent ability, was what earned me a uniform.

The High-Jump and, Finally, the Hurdles to the Rescue

At the end of sophomore year, I got in the habit of stopping by the track team’s high-jump pit on the way in to the locker room after baseball practice. I found I could clear close to five feet using the outmoded scissors-kick style I had learned as a youngster from my dad. I became interested and arranged for an informal “try-out” one afternoon with the track and field coach, Berny Wagner. I impressed him by clearing five feet in my tennies and sweat-pants. We both thought I had a future in the high-jump on next year’s track team. Accordingly, I went out for the cross-country team that fall term to build my legs and my endurance. It was no surprise to me that I was regularly bringing-up-the-rear in our meets since distance running was never a strong point. I was in it strictly for the conditioning and track, but I worked hard at it. I recall one race which took us past a pig farm in South San Francisco. What an experience, gasping for breath only to run directly into a fog of pig stench! It was awful, but humorous… in hindsight!

While running cross-country, I worked on high-jumping technique and learned to run hurdles since that that exercise was supposed to build leg-strength and “spring.” Well, what “spring” I did  have deserted me, and I never was able to clear five feet again in the high jump to Coach Wagner’s dismay (never indicated) and my bitter disappointment.

Fortunately, I began to be seduced by the hurdles, especially the highs, and it all was making perfect sense. I had good foot-speed, but not good enough to compete as a sprinter: Those were the guys who always won those grade school P.E. races and naturally found their way to the track team in high school. Sprinters often have a more muscular build which is not conducive to negotiating ten 39 inch barriers…at speed. I also was tall, lanky, and limber through the hips – prime attributes for a high hurdler. I did face tough competition from sprinter-types in the low hurdles, however, where technique and limber hips are not so necessary.

I grew to love running the high hurdles where the rhythmic three-steps between the ten hurdles allows the runner to really find his “groove” in the race when all is going well. When things go bad in the hurdles, they can go very bad. Hitting one of the weighted hurdles (they do not tip easily) with any significant force can knock the runner off-balance or cause him to lose momentum and his ability to maintain the three steps between hurdles. At that point, the runner is “toast” and the race us lost. Often, runners fall to the track after a collision with the barriers and are in danger of being spiked by the runners in adjacent lanes. And then there is the not- uncommon discovery at the finish line of a bloody “knob” on the trailing-leg knee from contact with a hurdle. Hurdling is not for the faint-of-heart.

One poster-child (among many) illustrating the lurking disaster in every hurdles race is Lolo Jones from team USA, one of the Olympic favorites in the women’s intermediate hurdles event a couple of Games back in time. She had a comfortable lead in the event finals when she jammed one of the very last hurdles with her lead foot, causing her to lose momentum and finish just out of the medal awards. That was such a hard race to watch for an ex-hurdler! One learns early that sports can be a cruel companion; an attitude is necessary which can maturely handle not only the “agony of defeat,” but that great imposter, “the thrill of victory.”

The Good News / Bad News / Good News… for Me

The good news: I was enjoying hurdles practice and felt compatible with the demands of the event, especially in the high hurdles. I felt I had a chance!

The bad news: In my junior year, my first competitive year in track, San Mateo High had three of the very best high hurdlers in the entire league. Our star hurdler, Bob Kile, was a natural athlete with speed who was also tops in the pole-vault and a star halfback on the varsity football team. Dale Lebeck was a fine broad jumper as well as hurdler. Al Holmes was one of the best high jumpers in the league. It was a learning year for me. I placed third in the hurdles once or twice when a lane was available, but I learned a lot watching these three fine athletes practice and compete.

The good news: All three of these hurdlers were seniors who would not be returning next year!! I saw my chance, and I threw myself, heart and soul, into becoming a good hurdler. I practiced hard and late during sixth-period P.E. and after school. Often, I walked home from school – probably a mile and a half to two miles – after two tiring hours on the track. I read books on hurdling technique, and I did stretching exercises every evening before bedtime. I fantasized about being league champion someday as I mowed our back lawn. Basically, I lived an existence heavily focused on track which has allowed me, ever since, to fully appreciate the intensity and focus which is necessary for competition at the Olympic Games. Of course, I have no illusions about the magnitude of my high school experience compared to that of the Olympic Games, but the lessons I learned taught me about self-discipline, perseverance, and dedication to a goal. I learned, too, that year, how socially beneficial athletic success can be. In those days, track and field was quite a popular sport, and my hurdling brought me to the attention of classmates who were outside of my closer circle – an experience that was new to me given my athletic struggles of the past. It all made for a wonderful senior year. Would that all youngsters could have a similar experience and learn the life-lessons that I did because of track.

 

The San Mateo Times Sports Page, May 10, 1958

 

The San Mateo High School “Elm” of 1958

I owe my success in track to our track coach, Berny Wagner, who passed away last year. Coach Wagner positively affected my life more than any other teacher/educator in all my formative years.

I intend to write more about Coach Wagner in a future post. Suffice it to say, his inscription in my senior yearbook just before graduation illustrates the kind of mentor he was to the fortunate lads who crossed his coaching path …in high school and, ultimately, at Oregon State University. The “greatest thrills” in his coaching career were still to come!