Johnny Soccer: Sports Legend

Here is a trick question. Be VERY careful because there is a right answer. Good luck. Look at the following names. Which name does NOT belong in this group:

Mia Hamm, Pele, Tom Brady, Terry Bradshaw, Derek Jeter, Jesse Owens, Michael Jordan, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Johnny Soccer, Babe Ruth, Eli Manning, Michael Phelps, Venus and Serena Williams, Joe Namath, Joe Montana, Hank Aaron and Wayne Gretzky?

Give up? The answer is that they ALL belong to this group. I told you that it was a trick question. What? Who is Johnny Soccer? I am glad that you asked because you know that I want to tell you.

Let's go back to September of 1973. That was the beginning of my last year at Christ the King High School in Middle Village in New York. Needless to say, I had mixed feelings. I wanted to get to graduation, BUT I did not want to rush the school year. I invested three years of my life so far to make CK my home. Now, in just ten quick months, I will have to move on whether I like to or not and whether I want to or not. It was the nature of the beast called time.

For the last two years, I had made a reputation for myself in the school band. People throughout the school-teachers and students-know me primarily as a trumpeter. I liked it. I felt like a building celebrity. I needed just a bit more.

In my first two years here, I signed on with the track team. It was a disastrous experience because I was not as fast as I thought. In fact, I gave the term "anchor man" a whole new meaning because I was not the last man on a relay team who was to bring the team a victory at the finish line. No, I was the guy who kept holding his team back. In the second year, the band caught my interest and I started to transition to the school band full time.

It has always been ingrained in me for some reason that a student needs two parts of a school session to be complete: You need to exercise mind and body, not just one of them. The music served as part of my scholastics. I was learning a new subject, but it was partially athletic because you had to learn fingering and breathing techniques in order to play. I needed some sort of sport in order to exercise my body as well as improve my breathing for the trumpet.

I tried other sports during my time at CK. I went out for the basketball team in my first year. I did not even make the team. When I got home, I was glad that I didn't. I feared that by going to a school in a predominantly white neighborhood would give fuel to neighborhood bigots to say that all black folks are just interested in playing basketball. Not this black guy. That is why I went out for the track team. I enjoyed the running aspect but resented all the work I had to do in order to improve. Besides, in my neighborhood, I was fast enough. You had to have some burst of speed in order to get away from a loose Doberman. I was also equally talented at climbing trees, too, when a beast managed to catch up to me as well.

Toward late September, I got to gym class early. We needed to get dressed and report to the gym floor in formation for roll call. The teacher, a former Marine, was my teacher. He was a very nice and compassionate guy, but he set standards that I was all too happy to try to meet. After attendance, we did our calisthenics and then sat for our instructions for the day. On this day, however, he allowed us to choose our sport for the session. My indoor sport has always been volleyball. Because my volleyball buddies and I were in the same class, we decided to get a game together. I walked over to the ball bin and searched for a volleyball. I came across a black and white ball.

I held it up to my friends and said, "Hey guys. Look at this. It is an integration ball." My buddy said, "That's a soccer ball."

To be honest, I heard of the game, but never saw a soccer ball up close. Then, he put the ball on the ground and showed me his awkward skills. I think that I found a new sport to learn.

I asked the gym teacher if CK had a soccer team. He told me that we did and who I should speak to if I wanted to join the team.

In September 1973, CK was engaged in a strike, a strike which almost lasted until Christmas. We had classes, but they were not formal classes as required by state law. We had busy time classes. I had no desire to learn Gaelic, but I had to go to the class anyway. There were other non-class classes, but I honestly don't remember what they were. These teachers are what strikers call scabs, people who cross the picket line in order to keep the school running during the strike. Somehow, we managed.

I found the soccer coach and asked him if I could try out for the team. He gave me the okay and the schedule. He also told me what equipment I would need. My family could not give me driver's ed classes because they were saving up for me to go to college. I would not dare, out of guilt, ask them for money for cleats. So, I figured that a pair of sneakers would have to do the job.

The following Monday, I showed up as planned for my first soccer session. I had to report to a place called Juniper Valley Park. It was a nice area. Unlike my neighborhood, nobody was playing basketball. I was certain that in this white neighborhood that basketball was not a priority here. Good. The place was nice, quiet and clean.

The coach called us over and I was introduced to the team. We then headed to the track to do two laps-a half mile-before returning to the spot to do our warm ups for practice. I was the smart aleck as we were jogging around the track, I tried to stay ahead of the group instead of staying with the soccer pack. When the jog was over, I was understandably winded while the other guys did their exercises.

As we were getting ready for our scrimmage, I noticed three standouts, a guy named Mike, another guy named Gary, and a third guy named Johnny S. The three of them did additional things with the ball. I just had to watch as they juggled and balanced the ball. Then, they passed it to each other. I tried to join in, but I could not keep up with their skills.

I was on the opposing scrimmage team. I tried to stop them, starting with Mike. As the fullback, I was to block the shot. The ball whizzed y me. Point! My goalie threw the ball to the front line. This time, it came back again. This time Gary came my way. The only other distinctive feature about Gary is that he resembled a teenaged Chuck Connors. I went to the left and he faked me out by going to my right. I tried to stop him on my right, but it was too late. Point! This time, my goalie looked at me before he threw the ball down the field again. Now, I thought that I may have telegraphed to the other side where the weak link is on my team. Now, John came at me. I was determined to stop this ball no matter what. John came toward me. Now, he was flanked by Gary. It was like playing against the soccer version of the Harlem Globetrotters. They kept passing the ball to each other. After I ran the ball, Johnny kicked it this time. I knew where that ball was going to land. You got it. Point! My goalie wasn’t very happy now that we were down 3-0 in the first quarter.

When practice was nearly over, I talked with my new teammates now that I was thoroughly humbled by my lack of experience.

“Rough day,” asked Johnny S.

I said, “Yes. Where did you guys learn to play like that?”

Johnny S responded, “Well Gary and I play for a German-American soccer team.”

I needed to know, “Really? How long have you been playing there?”

“Ever since we were much younger,” he said.

That was all I needed to know. My team had a group of ringers. These guys are good.

As time went on, Johnny and a few other guys taught me some of the basics of the game. It was not that I was any good at it, but I had a much better understanding. What’s more, I was now a part of a team.

There was a HUGE difference between the camaraderie of the track team and the soccer team. The soccer team was very supportive of my skills while the track team wasn’t. If my skills were severely lacking in soccer, the team made no big deal of it. From time to time, Johnny would pass me the ball during skill time, sometimes daring me to stop him from getting by. It was like trying to block a shot by Meadowlark Lemon. Johnny wasn’t good at this. He was great at this. During scrimmage time as I waited for the ball to come my way, I would watch him work with Gary in advancing the ball. It was so nice to see a guy with that talent playing for MY school.

A couple of months later, during the strike period, the coach asked my why I wasn’t showing up for the games. Unfortunately, because of the strike and not having access to the teachers I needed, I had to do my own footwork on the weekends—getting applications done, meeting with college officials in order to get applications done and other stuff. Because of the strike, I had to try to see if my information in the guidance office was being sent to these schools. Even my parents were tied up during the weekends and money was tight. On the weekends, bus passes could not be used. Therefore, no matter where I had to go, it meant full fare just like the regular passengers. If I had an easy path to getting a major letter, I had to pass on it for these reasons.

In any case, I had a better relationship with the soccer team than the track team. I also had to practice more on the horn because the band was a shell of itself. There were no concerts for us and the only band playing time I had was at St. John’s University. So, I was relegated to helping new band members, mainly the trumpet players. So I did.

I would see Johnny in the hallways during our transition periods. Because we each had to get to our proper classes, we would keep our conversations to our practice sessions. Once there, we talked like we knew each other for years. He had a great sense of humor, but he was always into soccer. I was truly amazed at his ability to keep the ball in the air with a few kicks.

After I graduated from CK in 1974, I started my studies at the university. I was automatically in the band, having played two years with them already. I also joined the soccer team which was really on a club status, not a school team status like the other teams. We shared field time with the rugby club. Practices were generally two or three times a week. During our down times, we would sometimes hang out together often ribbing or being ribbed by the rugby team. It was all in good fun. Like the CK team, the soccer team did not mind my very low skills. I even took part in the scheduled games even on Saturday mornings. It was a great experience.

During the second year, 1975, I found myself drawn to other activities which included writing for the school’s satirical newspaper. I could see that I was developing a small following for my writing because some professors who knew me would compliment my humor. It was a nice feeling.

One of the activities I signed up for was freshman orientation, showing new students around the campus. That was nice since I was brought in that way as well. After my brief training, I was informed that I would be given ten students to help.

The next day, the three-day orientation began. The students walked in. SURPRISE! One of them was Johnny S. I went over to him and said, “Hey! Glad to see you here! If you need anything at all, let me know. I will personally help you out.” Johnny kept to his very quiet demeanor and nodded.

I found one of my soccer buddies and told him about Johnny. When I saw another one, I introduced him to Johnny so that he would now have a direct link to the team. I knew that he would be okay with his new team mates. He brought a very wide array of advanced skills to the team. This would more than makeup for what I never brought. From time to time, I would spy on him around the campus and check with mutual friends to make sure that Johnny was okay. Apparently, he adapted very well. I still made myself available if he needed my help.

One day around the end of October, right before we were to take our midterm examinations, I was sitting in the hallway of St. John's Hall with others who were also waiting to get into their classrooms. Johnny came over to me, sat down and we started chatting.

"Hey!" he said.

"Hi, John. Are you ready for your test" I asked.

He responded in a rather nervous tone, "Yes, but I have some rather bad news to tell you."

For a quick moment, I thought that he was going to tell me that he was quitting soccer or that he got injured. Even worse, I also thought that he was going to tell me that he was leaving St. John's. That truly would have been devastating news. I considered him to be in my tight circle of friends. It would have greatly upset me if he left. He helped me and I wanted to help him. So I listened to the "bad" news.

"Gary died in an auto accident," he relayed to me.

Yup. That would do it. I couldn't figure out how or why a guy who has yet to start his next stage in life could possibly be dead. Wow! A world without Gary! He had so much to give. It brought back a nightmare of my first year at SJU when I got word that a former elementary school mate also died in a car crash during the 1974 Thanksgiving weekend. Now, I had the specter of two friends who died by the same means almost at the same time of year. It was at this point that I would take Johnny under my wing and show him around the campus again if he needed any help.

Well, we moved on from that day. We both graduated at our respective times. Johnny went on to become an outstanding soccer coach even on the college level. He was fine. Even today, we maintain contact and reminisce about the good old days at CK and SJU. From time to time, I would tease him about his near resemblance to Namath. He would return with a retaliation of his own. It was all in good fun. I decided to become a teacher and he decided to coach soccer. Surprise! Surprise!

What makes a legend? According to Wikipedia, "A legend is a narrative of human actions that are perceived both by teller and listeners to take place within human history and demonstrating human values, and which possesses certain qualities that give the tale verisimilitude." Johnny is a legend He existed and he IS a great person. He was helpful and understood that his talents were given to him to share with others. That he did. And even if others don't consider him to be a legend, he is a legend to me. He was constantly "demonstrating human values" which includes helping others.

Want to revisit that first question? Sure. Go ahead, but now you can easily see why Johnny Soccer was the wrong answer. He truly belongs in that group.