Caprock Chronicles: Russell, Moose and our Field of Dreams, Part One

Editor’s Note: Jack Becker is the editor of Caprock Chronicles and is a Librarian Emeritus from Texas Tech University. He can be reached at jack.becker@ttu.edu. Today’s article about Bill Russell and Moose Skowron’s 2003 visit to Lubbock is the first of a three-part series by frequent contributor Chuck Lanehart, Lubbock attorney and award-winning history writer.

"The most important thing to me is the friends that I’ve made." —Bill Russell

The fat packet arrived in our mailbox in mid-July 2003. As I sat with my trophy wife Paula on our patio, I opened the envelope that would lead to our personal field of dreams. The correspondence was an invitation to the opening tournament for the new Texas Tech golf course, the Rawls, to be held in early September. The participants would include a multitude of sports legends, including one of my heroes, basketball Hall of Famer Kevin McHale. McHale, Larry Bird and their fellow Boston Celtics won multiple NBA titles in the 1980's.

Paula stared at the invitation, and she seemed to swoon. "Moooooooooooooooose is coming! Moose Skowron is coming!"

"Who is Moose Skowron?" I reasonably inquired.

It seemed Bill "Moose" Skowron (born William Joseph Skowron in Chicago, 1930) was the star first baseman for the New York Yankees from 1954-62, Paula explained patiently. Though his teammates Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford and others are more familiar, Skowron out-batted the great Mantle several seasons and was a major contributor to the Yankees’ dynasty. He still holds the record for most World Series played in by a first baseman (eight). He won five World Series Championship rings, and he was an eight-time All-Star selection.

When Paula was a child, she and her father shared a passion for the 1950s and 1960s-era Yanks, and she can still name all the players and all their positions. So, the Rawls Course invitation was like a dream come true: Paula must meet Moose, and I must meet Kevin McHale.

We immediately decided to attend the pricey affair, ditching plans for a big vacation to the East Coast with hope we might play golf with our sports heroes.

I contacted the Rawls Course director of golf, my good friend and golf instructor Leon Jansen van Rensburg. A South African with perhaps a mild appreciation for non-golf American sport, Leon seemed unimpressed with my description of the iconic status of McHale and Moose. Nevertheless, Leon promised he'd do everything he could to pair me with McHale and to pair Paula with Moose. So, a few days before the event, I dropped by the course to remind him.

"Bad news," Leon said. "McHale canceled. I'm gonna have to pair you with some guy named Bill Russell instead." Leon seemed genuinely worried that I would be disappointed. But you can't expect a South African golf pro to understand an American basketball fan meeting Bill Russell is like Wile E. Coyote catching the Road Runner. I was ecstatic.

Bill Russell (born William Felton Russell in West Monroe, Louisiana, 1934) was one of the greatest basketball players who ever lived, not only because of the way he played (a record 11 NBA championships), but because of the classy way he lived his life. Along with Jackie Robinson and Mohammed Ali, he is considered one of the first important sports civil rights activists. He would be awarded the Medal of Freedom by President Barack Obama seven years later, in 2010.

Leon arranged for Paula to play with Moose. She, too, was ecstatic. We were set to play our favorite game with our favorite sports legends on a magnificent brand-new golf course. We anticipated something like the movie, "A Field of Dreams."

Sept. 12 dawned a perfect Lubbock day. Chamber of Commerce weather greeted hundreds of spectators and participants. After the opening ceremonies, we headed to our golf cars. There were about 36 fivesomes, and each group featured a big sports or entertainment celebrity. Bill Russell, my guy, was the biggest name in attendance and the most recognizable.

Russell was a different sort of celebrity. He seemed quite aloof amid the throng of fans at the clubhouse. He was famous for refusing to sign autographs, and this day there would be no autographs, but there was always a pleasant handshake and a polite, "Thank you for asking."

Russell granted no interviews to the media. If a fan asked to take his photo, he would gently respond, "I'd rather you wouldn't." But if a persistent youngster with a camera came along, Russell would arrange for someone else to man the camera and photograph the two together.

The big guy drove our golf cart. Together, we must have been a curious sight: the slim, gray-bearded, 69-year-old, six-foot-ten Black sports legend with the chubby White lawyer sporting a big black rehabilitative boot protecting a stress fracture.

Part Two of this series will be published in next Sunday’s Lubbock Avalanche-Journal.

This article originally appeared on Lubbock Avalanche-Journal: Caprock Chronicles: Russell, Moose and our Field of Dreams, Part One