Reusse: Ramblings of an 80-year-old sportswriter

There was a late-morning call Thursday welcoming me one day early to the 80-year-old club. It came from Daniel Weicherding, a classmate and neighbor at St. Gabriel’s Grade School and Fulda High School in southwest Minnesota.

Daniel and I had many experiences together, walking or biking, what, two-thirds of a mile around the lake to get to grade school. On one of those days, at age 11 maybe, we were summoned on arrival by Sister Marna and told we were getting the boot from altar boys.

Can’t remember why, but once Dan’s mom, Ag, and my mom, Cecile, got over the initial jolt, Dan and I agreed this was a good thing.

None of those extra Masses to deal with; get to one on Sunday, hopefully being allowed to sit in the back, and be halfway home before the church emptied.

My only real grudge with Daniel came as juniors in the spring of 1962.

We were playing at hated rival Slayton in a baseball game. Our seniors were on skip days to Minneapolis, and that meant I was pitching (slow-speed control was my specialty) and Daniel was making a rare appearance in right field.

The Wildcats had a couple of runners on in the middle of the game and a ball was hit in the gap, closer to right field than center. Daniel went racing at his best speed toward the ball, but, drats, his hat came off.

In addition to being disadvantaged by the absence of our seniors, there was also a Slayton school teacher working the plate. And it was left to Weicherding to call out this ump on his obvious prejudice.

A pitch came in high.

The Slayton guy barked, “Strike three.” To which Daniel responded: “Nice eye, Cyclops.”

Rather than congratulate Daniel on his excellent grasp of Greek mythology, the Slayton educator ejected him. Right field was now vacant, which had little impact on the outcome.

My mother died that May, way too young from breast cancer, and we moved to Prior Lake, where I was introduced to a whole new cast of characters for a senior year — at a time when PLHS had fewer students (50) in its graduating class than did Fulda (68).

Loved Fulda.

Enjoyed talking with Weicherding in advance of No. 80, in which we agreed Sister Oliver was by far our favorite nun at St. Gabe’s.

“Remember, she was a great marbles shooter,” Daniel said. “She would kneel down there in her habit, and win all our marbles.”

Yet, the move to Prior Lake was crucial to the cupcake career I’ve been allowed to have as a sports reporter.

PL’s proximity allowed me to commute to a job as a copy boy at the Minneapolis Morning Tribune starting in August 1963. And it was my brother Michael who late in his life gave me further information on landing that part-time task.

He explained to Ted that he had a son with no talents other than being a sports nut, and asked if said kid could get a job down there “answering phones or something.”

Ted arranged that job for me.

• Being hired as a reporter at the Duluth newspapers at the end of 1965 for $76.08 per week, and taking a call from Esko for a first basketball boxscore, and not having a clue how to spell all those Finnish names.

And six decades later, seeing an Esko kid, Koi Perich, as “the” football star for the Gophers.

• Being courtside in Williams Arena in March 1970, writing on deadline for the Pioneer Press as little Sherburn won the last-ever Minnesota one-class basketball tournament, one decade after tinier Edgerton (from Fulda’s District 8) had done the same.

I found a storage area below the pressbox — broken glass, piles of junk — to write and send a column on late, late deadline.

Nebraska’s Tom Osborne going for two — when kicking for a tie would have given his team the national title — was a coaching move for the ages.

• Seeing in person nearly all of Rod Carew’s 239 hits in 1977 as a Twins beat writer when he was on the cover of both Time and Sports Illustrated the same week.

And taking credit for titling him “Sir Rodney.”

• Being at Tiger Woods’ first Masters as a pro in 1997. Walked in the gallery as he shot 40 on the front. So much for the phenom, right? Well, he shot 30 on the back and won his first Green Jacket by 12 shots.

• Clem Haskins’ Gophers, with Bobby Jackson being all-world, defeating Clemson in double overtime in the 1997 round of 16 in San Antonio.

Best hoops game I ever saw. No lie, the fuzzy hair on arms was standing up.

Only other time that happened: When I was in Portland for the Dream Team’s first exhibition in 1992, and the starting lineup was introduced.

No sense in going on here. We keep at it, we’ll all get bored.

Let’s just say, I’m 80, still reportin’ and talkin’, and don’t know if I’ve ever really worked a day in my life since walking into the Star and Tribune building in August 1963 and introducing myself to Ted Peterson.