President John F. Kennedy was assassinated before I was
born, but everyone who was alive and aware at the time can tell you where they
were when they heard the news. The same goes for the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001. For my generation, one of those moments was the
day in 1986 the Space Shuttle Challenger blew up.
“Oh no.”
It was first semester of Grade 11 during final exams. It was Jan. 28, 1986. Most
mornings I spent all or part of a spare I had that semester in Ed Ryan’s office. He was our high
school guidance counselor and a mentor to me.
That day we were talking about hockey, when his phone rang.
He picked it up, listened a moment, then half out loud mumbled, “Oh no. It just
…”
I thought I heard him say “it blew up”, but I couldn’t be
sure. If so, what blew up? By then, Shuttle missions were routine and no longer
drew that many front-page headlines. In fact the footage above is the only live broadcast that occurred of this mission, Challenger's 10th and the shuttle program's 25th.
He hung up and told me that was his wife. Sheila Ryan was
the news director for CJOC-Radio in Lethbridge. She told her husband the
Challenger had blown up.
With our own eyes
At that moment, we scrambled upstairs to the library where
Mr. Kanashiro, the school librarian, had the TV going. That was the first time I saw
the footage with my own eyes that was seared into all our minds. It was the Shuttle sailing through the
air toward outer space then bursting into flames with pieces hurtling in various directions leaving
trails of smoke.
By the time I got home, it was all over the news, from
Entertainment Tonight to The National. That’s where I learned about the true
tragedy of the situation.
The crew of the Space Shuttle Challenger in 1986. In back from left are Ellison Onizuka, Christa McAuliffe, Greg Jarvis, and Judy Resnick; while in front from left are Mike Smith, Dick Scobee, and Ron McNair.
These astronauts were not unknown: Judy Resnick, was the second
female astronaut; and Christa McAuliffe was set to be the first teacher in space.
I kept wondering if they were alive when it blew up, then died
in the crash into the ocean. I tried to imagine the horror of being trapped in
that small space. There was nowhere to go. Over the days and months to follow,
various ideas and hypotheses came out about those final minutes.
There would be no shuttle missions for 32 moths, and a thorough investigation was conducted. As in tragedies such as this, there was plenty of blame to go around.
It was sad, and grounded the program for years. We all came
to believe they learned from the tragedy. It could never happen again right?
Well it would.
It is one of the most poignant
episodes of television I have ever watched. Maybe because I trained to be a
teacher, and maybe because of the clever writing, but when deejay Venus Flytrap explains the
atom to a gang banger teenager on an episode of “WKRP in Cincinnati” it created
a memorable moment of television.
The gang banger is the son of the
station’s cleaning lady. She’s worried he’s fallen in with the wrong crowd, and
asks Venus to talk to him. When he does, the boy says he doesn’t understand
anything. Venus asks him what’s he’s studying. He tells him stuff like the
atom. Venus tells him he’s not stupid. Then he bets him all the money he can
find that he can teach Arnold the atom in two minutes.
What follows is a truly inspiring
moment. Venus equates the parts of the atom to street gangs and Swahili words.
Arnold learns, and by the time Venus is done, he teaches him the atom. However,
he took longer than two minutes.
The show ends in comedic fashion. Fellow deejay Dr. Johnny Fever was asleep in the back, and woke up to hear Venus work his
magic. He offers to buy him and beer, then asks, “You think you can teach me
about magnets?” The episode won a 1981 Humanitas Award (an award for film and television writing intended to promote human dignity, meaning, and freedom), and was nominated for a primetime Emmy for its direction.
Social conscience
“WKRP in Cincinnati” lasted for
four seasons, and broke a lot of ground for its time. Not only was it one of
the best comedies on television, but it tackled a lot of social issues.
There was an episode about payola,
where a new deejay was taking cocaine in exchange for playing certain records.
Fever discovers the payola just when station manager Arthur Carlson walks in.
They tell him it’s foot powder. When the Deejay asks Fever what Carlson will
do, the answer is simple: “Carlson’s no idiot, he’s going to put it on his
feet.”
There was an episode addressing the
real-life trampling deaths of fans at an outdoor concert in Cincinnati, an
episode where we discover Venus is actually a draft dodger, and episodes
addressing alcoholism, mental illness, and much more.
It’s still funny
At its best, it was just plain
funny. There was the episode where Carlson arranges an airplane drop of turkeys
at Thanksgiving. “As God is my witness I thought turkeys could fly,” he
exclaims. Obviously they cannot.
There was the episode where Venus
and Johnny have their reaction times checked as they get drunker and drunker.
The problem is their reaction times get better and better.
And it all started with the pilot
where Johnny Caravella freaked out on air as the format changed from easy
listening to rock and roll, and in the spur of the moment became Dr. Johnny
Fever.
The proof was in the ratings. After it was cancelled, "WKRP in Cincinnati" became one of the most successful syndicated sitcomes over the next decade. It outperformed most of the shows that beat it in prime time, and all the other sitcomes produced by its production company.
You watch an episode now, and it still
holds up. It was a funny, funny show, that still made you think, and nothing
made you think more then when Venus taught the atom.
Lionel Richie's 1983 mega-hit album "Can't Slow Down"
There are songs that have crossover appeal with success on more than one
chart. One of the first ones I recall I heard just the other day: “Stuck on
You” by Lionel Richie.
Long before he was just Nicole’s dad, he was a singer and songwriter
who occupied the charts for much of the ‘80s. First, he was the lead singer of
The Commodores, then went solo and really hit it big with the album “Can’t Slow
Down”. The biggest singles off that album were “Hello” and “All Night Long”.
However, it was an album that just kept producing single after single, from
“Penny Lover” and “Running With the Night”, to “Stuck on You”.
What made “Stuck on You” different was that I did not hear
it as much on the pop charts, but instead in a very unlikely spot: CJOC, a country
and western radio station broadcasting out of Lethbridge that my parents
listened to. They had this old green radio that seemingly only got one station:
CJOC.
Normally, as I got ready for school I got washed up then sat
in front of this furnace in our kitchen waiting for my hair to dry. I always
wrapped a towel over my head, and around my ears, like the sheiks I saw on TV.
Usually, I tuned out the country songs until, one day, I heard this song.
“That sounds like Lionel Richie,” I thought. But what was he
doing on CJOC (or See-Jock as we pronounced it)?
I hopped on the bus and low and behold that day, I heard it
on 1090 CHEC, the top-40 station playing on the radio in the school bus. It was
Lionel Richie.
Eventually, I discovered through the magic of “Entertainment
Tonight”, my primary source of that kind of news, that “Stuck on You” was
climbing up the Hot 100 chart, where it peaked at number three, and the country music chart, where it peaked at number 24.
Richie would find even greater crossover success a four years later when he teamed with country music sensation Alabama for the single "Deep River Woman". It was another song I heard on CJOC and CHEC at the same time. It eventually peaked at number 10 on the country charts, but topped out at 71 on Billboard's Hot 100.
Never would I have imagined that one of pop music’s icons could be
a country music sensation. Now, country and western fans are highly critical of
songs, complaining many are indistinguishable from pop music. It is interesting how the shoe was on the other foot 30 years ago.
Band names come from the strangest places. Sometimes they have some sort of story or history to them. Sometimes they refer to something common or cryptic.
When I first heard the song “Heart and Soul” was sung by a band called T’Pau, I really didn’t believe it. It couldn’t be, could it? I was stunned. Had someone cool actually named their band after a fairly obscure character from "Star Trek". After all T’Pau was the female leader of the Vulcans who helped Spock through the pon farr in the episode “Amok Time”. It was also noted then that she was the only person who had been offered a seat on the Federation Council but refused.
It in fact was true. T’Pau, a band from Britain, had taken their name from Star Trek and their song which, near the end of Grade 12 (the spring of 1987), started playing on the radio and moving up the charts. According to the website http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/T'Pau, "In 1986, the name 'T'Pau' ended up being adopted by a music band led by Carol Decker, who took the inspiration from 'Amok Time' playing on a television she was watching while doing some ironing. Decker recalled, 'I just thought it was a really snappy onomatopoeic word and I ran it by the band'."
Their first single was "Heart and Soul" and it went all the way to number four on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in 1987, and number one in Canada on August 22, 1987. That was by far their most popular song. Their next single was "China in Your Hand", which went to number one in the United Kingdom, but barely caught a sniff on the Billboard charts, and only rose as high as number 20 in Canada.
Still, I remember "China in Your Hand" on the radio. One day, Chris Vining, my best friend of the time, asked me if the lead singer was singing “China” or “Chinar” in your hand. After spending time around the English over the years, I am still no closer to telling the difference.
I never gave T'Pau a second thought after Grade 12. Until, just over two years later in my third year of university, I would hear them perform on the University of Alberta campus at the Butterdome at Bear Country. I recall my friend Kevan Farrell bringing me one of the posters after the concert was over.
It seemed like an eternity between Grade 12 and third year, but so much more happened every year then, than it does now.
The last few months have been tough for sportscasters. If
you grew up in that gray zone that straddled Canadian and American TV sports,
you certainly would remember three names, or at least the voices that were
recently silenced: Johnny Esaw, Pat Summerall, and Geoff Gowan.
Canadian television pioneer
Johnny Esaw
Johnny Esaw was synonymous with CTV network sports. He
broadcast Canadian football for years, and was the one interviewing Phil
Esposito after Game 4 of the 1972 Canada-Russia Summit Series when Canada’s captain addressed the whole country. Much of this was before my time. What I do
remember of Johnny Esaw was his role in broadcasting the Olympics, and figure
skating in particular. Skate Canada was I think where I first saw him on TV. It
was only later, through highights, that I saw Esaw on the sidelines or at ice
level. That's when I realized how good he was. He understood the power of timing, like when he just let Esposito go. He didn't try to cut him off, or steer him in any particular direction. Anyway, by the time I started watching TV, he was doing specialty sports and
building an empire. Still, he was responsible for the CTV productions I did
watch.
Pat Summerall
Voice of the NFL
Long ago, before specialty sports channels, the only way you
could see NFL football on peasant vision was after the CFL season ended, which
meant after the Grey Cup in November. At that point, the CBC started
broadcsting NFC games, and CTV broadcast AFC games. Most of the NFC games,
especially back in the early ‘80s, featured “America’s team” – the Dallas
Cowboys. The voice I equate with that period, and for the next couple decades,
is Pat Summerall. He was the voice of the national NFC game. A few short years
later, he was joined by former Oakland Raiders coach John Madden, and they
formed an entertaining duo.
Summerall had played the game, but he was not your typical
retired player sharing war stories. He was a good narrator of the action, stern
and serious, but not dour or gloomy. I just recall his broadcasts being like
old news reels from the war years – and I liked it.
He eventually moved over to FOX Sports when it outbid CBS
for the NFC broadcast rights. He retired a few years ago, but I heard him back in 2010 do a game between Ole Miss and Oklahoma, because I recall his forceful pronunciation
of the name “Dexter McCluster”. That may have been his last broadcast.
Geoff Gowan
Track and field legend
Whether it was unbeatable athletes such as hurdler Edwin
Moses, decathlete Daley Thompson, or sprinter Carl Lewis, or Canadian
favourites such as sprinters Desai Williams, Tony Sharpe, and yes Ben Johnson,
hurdler Mark McCoy, decathlete Dave Steen, high jumper Debbie Brill, or
heptathlete Diane Jones-Konahowski, I was introduced to them all on CBC Sports
by Geoff Gowan.
He had an immense knowledge of track and field, and a keen
analytical mind. For example, I recall in the 1984 Olympics how Edwin Moses was
unbeatable. Yes, Danny Harris had ended his years-long winning streak earlier
that year, but there would be no repeat. One of the dark horses was the third
American, Tranel Hawkins, but Gowan said he was too inexperienced. Then
illustrated how. Between each hurdle, Moses had an even number of strides to
the next hurdle and flowed over each one. Hawkins, by contrast would jump,
land, run, then chop his stride as he approached the next hurdle, thus limiting
his speed. It was just one example of how Geoff Gowan did more than just
describe the action on the field. He analyzed it, and gave us a unique insight.
There are so many other broadcasters who were there
explaining sports to me. We remember the big plays but sadly, only when one of
the people describing them to us passes on, do we remember them. So, thank you
Johnny, Pat, and Geoff, for teaching me about axels and lutzes, four-down
football, what ten sports make up the decathlon, and so much more.
Jean Stapleton during her hey day on "All in the Family"
It was 33 years ago that Edith Bunker, beloved wife of that
loveable bigot Archie Bunker, died of a stroke. It came just as the 1980s was
beginning. Now, 33 years later, Edith Bunker’s alter-ego Jean Stapleton has
just passed away.
Although I was too young to truly understand the nuance and
cleverness of Norman Lear, creator of "All in the Family", I do recall Edith
Bunker. More it was the things Archie said to her: “Shut – up – you”; “Ding
Bat!”; “Stifle yourself”; and so on. I watched the show in reruns, but it did
not appeal to me back as a child in the 1980s, as it did a decade later when I
was an adult.
Instead, what I will remember most about Jean Stapleton is a
role she played in a TV movie I was lucky enough to see twice, and wish I could
find on DVD. That movie was simply called, “Aunt Mary”.
Mary Dobkin: inner-city champion
Jean Stapleton and he real Aunt Mary Dobkin
"Aunt Mary" was Stapleton's first role after she left "All in the Family". She played Mary Dobkin, a disabled woman and baseball
fan living in Baltimore. She helped the children in her neighbourhood by organizing and managing their baseball team. She opened the team up to everyone, including a
young African-American boy and eventually girls, and battled the backlash that ensued. The whole
time, she fought a disease that took her leg and left her first using a crutch
then a wheel chair.
It was based on a true story, and I recall reading in TV
Guide that Mary Dobkin’s efforts led to thousands of children registering for
little league baseball.
I had seen enough of "All in the Family" by that point to have this distinct impression of Edith Bunker as flighty and a dizzy. What really impressed was knowing that, and seeing Stapleton play pretty much the exact opposite type of character. Mary Dobkin was a woman battling racism and sexism, while facing personal disability and loss. There was not a lot to joke about. I thought she had been nominated for an Emmy for this role but, upon further research discovered she was not. She really should have been.
In any case, it was the combination of baseball and compelling human interest that affected me the most, and why more than three decades later it is the reason I most remember Jean Stapleton.
The real Mary Dobkin
This article written after Aunt Mary died in 1987 explains her life the best:
The poster advertising "Striker's Mountain" on that ancient medium – VHS
It seems that Canadian actor Bruce Greenwood has been in
just about everything. Watching him play Captain Christopher Pike in “Star
Trek: Into the Darkness” made me swell with pride, as I always do when I see a
Canadian actor make it big in the States, especially in a high profile movie.
But it also reminded me of what could have been.
“Striker’s Mountain”: Launching pad?
The low Canadian dollar in the 1980s led to the creation of
a robust Canadian film industry. Production moved north and a whole industry of
Canadian filmmakers, technicians, and support staff developed. Much of the work
was American TV and movie production, but there were Canadian projects too.
One of those productions was primarily filmed in Alberta in
1986 and debuted on CBC in 1987. It was called “Striker’s Mountain”, and could
easily have served as a pilot for a TV series. It could have been a “Heartland”
of the 1980s. Yet, it never did. Still, I was lucky enough to see it on TV a
couple times.
A trip to “Striker’s Mountain”
The story was uniquely Canadian but with universal themes. The clash of generations, battling progress, resisting change, they were all part of "Striker's Mountain". The movie is set on a ski hill owned by a family that has been there generations. Now, things are tough and a wealthy developer has made an offer they can't refuse. If the Strikers cannot find another way, they will lose control of their livelihood, and with it who they are.
Jake Striker is the patriarch of the family and owner of the ski resort. Paul Striker is his brash, rebellious son, who sees opportunity beyond the ski runs. Ultimately, it is only when they set aside their differences, and face the threat ahead, do they begin to listen to each other and save the day.
Star power
“Striker’s Mountain” was not an anonymous movie with no-name
actors. Bruce Greenwood played Paul Striker, while venerable Canadian actor August Schellenberg played Jake Striker. Leslie Nielsen, who played serious roles in Canada and Hollywood for decades before "The Naked Gun" and "Airplane!" came along. They were mostly bad guys, and this was no different, as he was the evil developer Jim McKay.
Another interesting note. Jessica Steen played Lowni Striker, a competitive skiier and daughter of Jake Striker, who is injured on the ski hill. Steen now plays the role of Lisa on "Heartland", so she did eventually land her recurring TV role.
The movie was written and produced by Wendy Wacko, who was one of a group of emerging Canadian filmmakers that also included Anne Wheeler.
Heartland of the '80s
It's unfortunate that nothing more came of "Striker's Mountain". It certainly was as good as some of the stuff on American network TV at the time. Whether it was funding, will, or timing, we will never know if it could have made it.
In fact, I believe it could have been "Heartland" in the 1980s. There are similarities to the current CBC drama. Both are centred on strong families, with their fair share of conflicts, running unique businesses. "Striker's Mountain" laid the groundwork to explore the same themes "Heartland" does, especially the clash of generations, resistance to change, and progress. Both are filmed in Alberta, exploring unique aspects of Alberta culture – the mountains and ski culture in "Striker's Mountain", the horse and ranching lifestyle in "Heartland". CBC really missed an opportunity 26 years ago. Twenty years after Striker's Mountain, they didn't make the same mistake twice.
Bruce Greenwood and J.T. Terlesky in 1984's "Legmen"
What do “Star Trek Into the Darkness” and “Body of Proof" have in common? And what do they have to do with the ‘80s?
There are places – or shows – I remember
Back in 1984 there was a show that caught my eye called "Legmen". Two college students went to work for a bail bondsman to earn some extra money, and got more than they bargained for. We never really found out how it worked out for them because the show only lasted six episodes.
There may only be a handful of people who remember "Legmen". It was a show that appeared on Channel 2&7 on peasant vision in the latter part of Grade 9. It was paired with another mid-season replacement called “The Master”, featuring Lee Van Cleef and Timothy Van Patten. More than the show itself, I remember one of my classmates who just raved about it. That's what actually kept me watching it, more than being interested in the show itself.
Legacy of "Legmen"
It's interesting how things turn out. The title characters, Jack Gage and David Taylor, were played by Bruce Greenwood and J.T. Terlesky respectively. Although neither of them has been a breakout star, they have both had long careers in TV and movies.
This year, Canadian actor Bruce Greenwood resumed his role as Captain
Christopher Pike in "Star Trek: Into the Darkness”, a role he created in J.J.
Abrams 2008 re-boot of “Star Trek”. He has been productive the past 30 years in movies such as "Super 8", "Barney's Version", "I, Robot", "The Sweet Hereafter", and "Exotica", and television shows such as "St. Elsewhere", "Road to Avonlea", and "Knot's Landing". He also turned in an amazing performance as American president John F. Kennedy during the Cuban Missile Crisis in "Thirteen Days".
Meanwhile, John Terlesky has been busy directing
episodes of TV shows such as the ABC procedural “Body of Proof”, starring Dana Delany; "Castle" starring Canadians Nathan Fillion and Stana Katic; "Revenge" starring Canadian Emily VanCamp; "Criminal Minds"; "Gossip Girl"; "Drop Dead Diva"; "Boston Legal"; "Grey's Anatomy"; "Ugly Betty"; and much more.
Memories
In the span of a few days, I'd seen both those names – Bruce Greenwood and John Terlesky – and they rang a bell. Why? I thought. Then it came to me. John
Terlesky used to go by J.T. Terlesky.
Even though it only lasted six episodes almost 30 years ago, it is imprinted in my mind along with so many other memories of the end of junior high. No matter what they have accomplished since, whenever I see those two names, I think of a simpler time back in St. Joeseph's Elementary/Junior High in Coaldale, Alberta. Because that's when I saw "Legmen".
It’s the end of Mork and Mindy as we know it…I feel fine.
The recent death of Jonathan Winters reminded me of an old lesson in life: don’t mess with a good thing, especially good comedy television.
Back in 1978 Robin Williams guest starred on Happy Days as an alien named Mork from the planet Ork. It was a dream episode, but proved so popular they gave the up-and-coming comedian his own series featuring an alien trying to find his way on Earth.
The creators set “Mork and Mindy” in Boulder, Colorado where twenty-something and single Mindy McConnell, played by Pam Dawber, discovers this lost alien named Mork. As can only happen in sitcom fashion, she takes him home to live in her attic. He moves through his days exploring, and ends each episode by sending reports to his superior named Orson, who we never see but who Mork is constantly making fat jokes about.
Robin William, Pam Dawber, and Jonathan Winters as Mork, Mindy, and Mearth.
The first season of “Mork and Mindy” aired on CBC on Saturdays in the late afternoon, at 5:30 p.m. It was one of the many odd scheduling choices that only occurred on peasant vision. It was pre-empted by playoff hockey and, at times, difficult to find. In subsequent seasons it moved to a more standard weeknight slot, Thursdays I believe.
The first season was excellent. There were not that many episodes, as it was a midseason replacement, but they all made me laugh. The next season saw some changes, including the departure of characters such as Mindy’s dad. New characters were added, including a brother and sister who owned a nearby sandwich shop or deli that Mork and Mindy visited. The third season saw more tinkering with the return of Mindy’s dad.
Disaster struck in the fourth and, thankfully, final season (1981-1982) where the sublime became the ridiculous. Mork and Mindy married and, get ready for this, Mork got pregnant. We discover the natives of Ork, unlike humans, start old and get younger as they age. Mork lays an egg, which is fitting, because so did the show. And he arrived on Earth in an egg-shaped spacecraft. Who should come out as the love child of Mork and Mindy? Who else but Jonathan Winters. I cannot make this stuff up. It gets better. They name the “child” Mearth, a tribute to his new world and his parents.
Robin Williams had already begun making movies and was growing too big for the show. It was living on fumes anyway. Adding Winters was a last gasp attempt to give oxygen to a dying show. It didn’t work.
The show, as I recall, ended with Mork, Mindy, and Mearth being pursued through time by a killer from an enemy planet of Ork’s, played by Joe Regalbuto. They escaped to live on in one more episode to end the season. Mercifully, the show was cancelled in 1982 after four seasons and 95 episodes.
In the end, Mork and Mindy was a show that started off as a hit and really was spoiled by too many cooks in the kitchen. It is unfortunate that I was too young to have seen the comic genius of Jonathan Winters before that. Instead, I am left with an impression of an old man playing a child on a spent sitcom. An actor brought in to save a show beyond repair.
Jonathan Winters would re-surface in the early 1990s as the elder Gunny Davis in the sitcom Davis Rules, co-starring with Randy Quaid. Winters would go on to win an Emmy award for the role in 1991 as best supporting actor. A bit of redemption in the world of the situation comedy.
I'm not sure what it was. The name, the hair, the electrifying play on the field. Whatever it was, there was no football player in the 1980s I liked more than the one and only Julius Caesar "J.C." Watts. Not only would he wow and thrill fans in college, but he came to the Canadian Football League and almost engineered one of the greatest upsets in Grey Cup history. To top it off, he returned home and became the first African-American Congressmen in the Republican party elected in Oklahoma. Athlete, leader, role model. There was only one J.C. Watts.
Quarterback to leader
J.C. Watts came to my attention in the 1980 Orange Bowl. The team was led by Billy Sims, one of the greatest runningbacks in college history. He had won the Heisman Trophy the year before as a junior, and could have won it again that year, but Charles White of the USC Trojans had an even better year. Still, Sims rushed for 1,506 yards and was the runner-up for the Heisman. The 1980 Orange Bowl would be Sims' last game in college, as he was in his fourth year. He made it a memorable one as he rushed for 164 yards, shredding the Florida State defence, en route to a 24-7 victory. It was the first Orange Bowl I ever watched. My outstanding memory of J.C. Watts, beyond wearing number one and J.C. actually standing for Julius Caesar, was he basically transferred the ball from the centre to Sims. Yet in reality, he too rushed for more than 100 yards as the number five Sooners upset the unbeaten, fourth-ranked Seminoles and Watts was named offensive MVP.
Watts would have to carry an even bigger load as the 1980 season opened. Sims went on to be taken first overall by the Detroit Lions in the 1980 NFL draft. Watts returned for his senior year, and would be the team's leader. He was an option quarterback in a wishbone offence. The team got off to a rocky 2-2 start in the first month of the season with a win over Kentucky, loss to Stanford, win over Colorado, and a loss to Texas, dropping them all the way to number 17 in the rankings. With two losses, a national championship was out of the question, but the Sooners did not give up. They reeled off seven straight wins to end the regular season at 9-2 and ranked fourth. They finished unbeaten at 7-0 in the Big 8, securing the conference championship and a trip to the Orange Bowl. Watts led the way with 18 touchdowns, and 615 yards rushing in that run-oriented offence.
Awaiting them in Miami were the 10-1 and number two ranked Florida State Seminoles, looking for their first national championship with a win, and revenge for their loss the year before.
Rough start
Statistically, the 1981 Orange Bowl would not be J.C.'s greatest hour. He fumbled four times and lost three of them, but it was the way he finished that made him a leader.
J.C. Watts in his favourite spot – on the run.
The first quarter was scoreless, then Florida State went on a 70-yard drive, jumping out to a 7-0 lead. The Seminoles had a tough defence and they stymied the Sooners. Late in the second quarter, Oklahoma finally got on the board with a field goal by Michael Keeling right before halftime. The teams went into the break with Florida State leading 7-3, setting up a wild second half.
Halftime adjustments can be so important. Oklahoma took the second half kick-off 78 yards, capping it off with a touchdown by David Overstreet and a 10-7 lead. (Overstreet would play two seasons for Montreal in the CFL before moving on to the Miami Dolphins. Not much after that, he died tragically in a car accident at the age of 25). The Seminoles tied it 10-10 at the end of the third quarter on a field goal by Bill Capece, who was one of the nation's best kickers, and an All-American.
Tragedy struck for the Sooners four minutes into the fourth quarter. Backed up deep, they were forced to punt out of their own end zone. There was a bad snap and Florida State fell on it for a gimme touchdown and a 17-10 lead. Nothing was going right for the Sooners.
That lead held up. Time was running out on the Sooners. They took over with 3:19 remaining, and 78 yards to tie the game. It would likely be their last chance. To make matters worse, that run offence made it difficult to come from behind, and score quickly. J.C. the runner would have to go to the air.
Epic finish
As he trotted out, I did not have much hope. It was late, I had the TV low so I wouldn't keep my parents up, and I huddled in a blanket with my 10-year-old face right next to the screen. J.C. rolled out and found a streaking Steve Rhodes down field for 42 yards. Rhodes was playing on an injured hamstring, limiting his speed. He would have scored with a healthy leg. Instead, he left the game.
Watts went for the end zone the next play, but threw it just a bit long for Jim Rockford (who would block a punt in the end zone for the Hamilton Tiger Cats in the 1986 Grey Cup). The incompletion stopped the clock. J.C. took the next snap and hit Chet Winters out of the backfield for 14 yards and out of bounds to stop the clock.
Then tragedy almost struck again. The rush came, J.C. panicked, and threw it right to a Seminole defender. He bobbled it and dropped it. New life for the Sooners. Watts had to avoid the rush again on the next play, this time rolling to his left and running 11 yards down the sideline before getting out of bounds to stop the clock again. He tried Rockford in the end zone again, but this time Jarvis Coursey almost intercepted it, knocking the ball down instead. (Coursey went on to be the co-MVP of the Orange Bowl, playing one of the best games of his life. Just one play short as it turned out).
New life again for the Sooners. J.C. dropped back and found Rhodes in the end zone. Touchdown! I let out a mighty scream, hoping I didn't wake up my parents. The Sooners still trailed 17-16. It was Rhodes first play back on that bad leg since that 42-yarder. He beat Bobby Butler, who moments earlier had recovered that botched snap for the go-ahead touchdown.
What would Coach Barry Switzer do? No overtime in college football back then. No chance at a national championship. Why not go for two points and the win? If they failed, they were likely giving the Seminoles the national championship, or a very good case in any event.
Oklahoma went for two.
The defence expected a run. J.C. dropped back and found Forrest Valora in the end zone. It was good enough for two points and an 18-17 lead.
Still, there was 1:27 to play, and Florida State had the best kicker around. Quarterback Rick Stockstill moved the Seminoles into position for a last-play field goal. The problem was it was 62 yards and Capece was short.
The Sooners had come all the way back to stun the Seminoles in one of the best games in Orange Bowl history. J.C had been playing hurt much of the game, but he gutted it out when he needed to. He finished the game completing 7 of 12 passes for 128 yards, including 67 on that last drive, and rushed for 48 yards. He was named the Orange Bowl MVP for the second straight year. Oklahoma finished the season ranked third overall, while Florida State plummeted to fifth.
Never leave early
About a week later I was visiting some relatives. I asked my cousin if he saw the Orange Bowl. Now this cousin could never admit he was wrong. Ever. He said he loved the Seminoles and was glad they won. Wait a second, I said, the Sooners won.
"No, they didn't," he said.
"Ya, they did."
"No, they didn't," he insisted. No i-Phone or Internet to settle the argument.
I then recounted the entire final drive for him (although I needed this YouTube video to remind me again).
He still insisted.
"You went to bed before the game was over, didn't you?" I asked.
He nodded yes.
"Never leave early."
(I should send him this link, because he probably still doesn't believe me)
What comes next?
The Orange Bowl was J.C. Watts final game with the Sooners. He completed 89 of 201 passes in his career for 1,953 in three years. He carried the ball 343 times for 1,444 yards and 35 touchdowns.
So what was next? It would be so cool if he came to the CFL…
