The 'great character' of Gustavus hoops, D.L. Smith, was one of a kind

There's a strong likelihood a prolific Gustavus basketball player would not have been as familiar to Minnesotans, even grade-schoolers in Fulda, if he was referred to in newspaper coverage as Dwayne Smith, rather than as D.L.

This was the 1950s, and the affectation of initials was prominent with board members at local banks, but rare with athletes.

"He always gave Ray Canton, a Minneapolis sportswriter, credit for being called D.L., but I'm not sure,'' said Smith's wife, Cathy. "Maybe he thought 'D.L.' would be an attention-getter.''

For sure: If Dick Jonckowski had called me this week and asked, "Do you remember Dwayne Smith?" I would've said, "Which one?''

When Jonckowski did call and ask, "Do you remember D.L. Smith?,'' the response was, "Of course. D.L., the mad-gunner, Gusties' scoring machine.''

The unhappy news was Dwayne Lawton Smith had died last Saturday at 85, soon after a stroke. We lamented this for a couple of minutes, and then Jonckowski hit me with this fine example of D.L. wackiness:

"Five, six years ago, I got an envelope in the mail from him. There was a check for $300. I called and asked, 'What's the check for?' And he said, 'It's for you to give the eulogy at my funeral.'"

Jonckowski went with the lay-up line, "I didn't even know you were sick,'' to which D.L. responded: "I'm not. You can spend it now, but be there when the time comes.''

The funeral will be next Thursday at Mount Olivet Lutheran. Jonckowski had to get the upper hand in a battle with cancer, but he will be there for a sendoff in his notorious "Polish Eagle'' emceeing style.

"I was in New Prague when D.L. was with the Gusties, and we would play the prelim game twice a year,'' the Eagle said. "He was a showman, a hot dog, but also a great scorer. I did the P.A. at Gophers games for years, but D.L. is still my all-time favorite college player.''

The winter sports calendar was not filled with large events in Minnesota, not in the 1950s, and Hamline's MIAC basketball dynasty received considerable coverage. When Gustavus ended the Pipers' domination with three straight conference titles (1954-56) and trips to the NAIA's national tournament in Kansas City, that also was sizable news.

The aforementioned Canton wrote a Tribune sports column on D.L. in 1958, as a lead-up to D.L.'s senior season. It came from a "lunch'' interview that lasted three hours.

Smith said he was "all set'' to play for the Gophers, "but one day I met a wild man named Gus Young from St. Peter and said to myself, 'D.L., there's a man who will understand you.' ''

Young was a promoter and arena-filler two decades before Bill Musselman did the same at much larger Williams Arena.

"Gus would have a 100-singer choir, a zany band especially for basketball, magicians,'' Bob Erdman said. "Those outstanding teams we had, and all Gus had going on … fans had to get there way early to find a seat.''

Erdman, John Patzwald, Jack Colvard and Jim Springer were the veteran starters for the 1955-56 Gusties. Shorty Patterson, D.L.'s teammate from Minneapolis North, moved quickly into the lineup. D.L. had to come off the bench as a freshman.

"One day he said to me, 'Bob, you and I should be the starting guards,' " Erdman said. "I said, 'Patzwald was an All-American for us last season. So what you're really telling me, D.L, is that you and Patzwald should be the starting guards.' ''

Smith wrote a three-page letter to Young in the summer of 1956, saying he was not going to return to Gustavus as a sophomore. Gus replied with a note saying it was the best news he had ever heard.

D.L. had stayed out late after the Gusties beat San Diego State in the 1956 NAIA tournament. Gus was waiting in the hotel lobby and said, "Pack your bags. You're taking the train back to Minneapolis. I'm going to have you see a psychiatrist.''

At breakfast, D.L. asked Young when he would be leaving to see the psychiatrist, and Gus said: "If I sent you to see a psychiatrist, then the psychiatrist would need a psychiatrist.''

Young left after D.L.'s sophomore season to open a bowling establishment in the Twin Cities. Whitey Skoog, ex-Laker, serious basketball man, replaced him.

Smith set an MIAC scoring record as a junior, and was prolific again as a senior, but he and Whitey didn't have the same … oh, chemistry, as with Young.

All Gusties-dom from that era tells the same story:

D.L. looks over to the sideline, sees that Whitey's mad about something and sending in a substitute. D.L. dribbles madly around the backcourt, gets over the timeline, and then fires a midcourt hook shot.

There's debate as to whether the hook shot went in. There's total agreement that Whitey fumed and made D.L. sit for long minutes.

"D.L. would call me every two weeks and ask, 'Are you still alive?' '' Erdman said. "I'm going to miss those calls, even though I always had to come up with an excuse to end the conversation.

"Great player. Great character. Tremendous talker.''