My intent on this late summer afternoon
is to take Reuben Shelton back 48 years, to a past time when for the retired
lawyer a free throw mattered and a writ of habeas corpus was just a vague
question on a civics test. I show him a black and white photo, Reuben Shelton
and Drew Rogers, frozen for all time in the biggest contest either will ever
play in, Northwest High vs. Kirkwood High, St. Louis Kiel Auditorium, March 8,
1972. The stylish confidence of both jumps out from the photo sitting amongst
our salad plates, napkins and lunch drinks. Both of the lanky teens ooze with
the measurably quality any 1970’s teenage boy strove for, the cool factor.
Shelton with the perfectly symmetric Afro hair style, Rogers with the
blow-dried long curls covering his ears and cascading over the collar. Both are,
obviously, young Alpha Males. If only life would remain so clearly defined.
I ask Shelton what
thoughts race into his mind when he sees the image. He smiles and says it is
the location and positioning of his hands in his defensive stance. A voice
seared into his memory shoots through his thoughts, he says. “I can hear Coach
Bailey in my head right now, ‘boy, you can’t play defense with your hands down.
Hands Up!!’ Good times, man, those were some good times.”
I
ask Drew Rogers, also a lunch time guest, the same questions. “Wow, Rogers
says, “this really takes me back.” He immediately, as Shelton did, became
analytical. “I am not squared up to the basket, like we teach post players
today. I was really good at pump faking
and getting a defender off of his feet. But look at Rueben. He is locked in on
me. I remember he played the best defensive game anyone that year ever played
against me. I was never a scoring factor that night, because of Reuben. He was
just so cool, just like he looked in the picture. I never got him off of his
feet. My other move on the post was to shoot a quick falling-away jump shot. I
would release it quickly, on the way going up. Reuben shut that move down as
well. He was such a quick jumper. I had a good night rebounding, but we were
lucky that Robert (Williams) and Bill (Moulder) picked up the scoring because I
did not score much that night.” Rogers finished with 9 points on 3-12 shooting
from the field. He also finished with 15 rebounds and arguably the most famous
assist in the history of St. Louis high school basketball.
Reunited for the first time
since 1972, 48 years since the playing of what many have called the greatest
game in the history of St. Louis area high school basketball, Kirkwood's Drew
Rogers shows he has improved his post up position but Ruben Shelton of
Northwest is still not buying the ball fake. All that was missing was the 9,000
fans (and the 40,000 others who claimed they were there) in Kiel Auditorium on
March 8, 1972. A great lunch that was almost surreal as the years faded away. It
was heartwarming to watch the two long
ago rivals reminisce and catch up.
But, back to the 1972
picture, both are oblivious to the 9,000 rabid fans in attendance, an out of
focus background blur in the photo. Both Rogers and Shelton are isolated on an island with each other. They are two
young warriors at the peak of life, deadly stares locked in. Rogers has the
ball, body creating space from Shelton who is deep into his defensive crouch.
Shelton’s body is coiled for action as he gazes into the eyes of his opponent.
Rogers is looking to score, Shelton set to spring into shot blocking mode. The
next move and the ball belong to Rogers. He is sizing up his adversary. A pump
fake to get Shelton off his feet? A quick fall away jump shot over the lunging
Northwest star? An up and under move and attack to the rim, perhaps with a foul
on Shelton as a bonus? Or, maybe Rogers should concede this one time, reset the
offense with a kickout pass to a teammate in a white Kirkwood jersey: The
Thrill or Sugar Bear or Prime Time or The Rock, all out of the picture but
assuredly into their own personal battles with the other four blue jersey
Northwest players. And where is Shelton’s teammate, Hercle Ivy? Is the future
NBA star leaving his own man, sliding into help Shelton on Rogers? We will
never know.
Although both players have
taken on statuesque poses, remember this is a frame freeze. Within the brutally
hard-fought contest, both teams will continue flailing away mightily at the
other as they sprint to the game’s conclusion. Winner to the state final four,
the loser goes home. The stakes are high.
In a millisecond the game
returns to a blur of action, the picture now rudimentary. The ball and the
players ricochet off each other, the passion of the contest driving the packed
Kiel Auditorium to a pitch of frenzy destined for an ugly ending. It is good for the imagination that the
conclusion of this momentary standoff has been lost to time. Neither Rogers nor
Shelton can today recall this possession. Understandable. There were hundreds,
maybe thousands, of just such one-on-one duels between players in that evenings
32 minutes of fevered action.
Shelton and Rogers would both
move out of this still shot and beyond this school kid game to become the
successful adults they are today; Shelton is a corporate lawyer and the first
African American President of the St. Louis Bar Association while Rogers is a
successful corporate sales manager and a writer of distinction.
But adult life can wait. We
stop now and relish this simple black and white photo from 48 years ago. The
distinct and sweeping power in this monochromatic image perfectly embeds the
moment for all time. Basketball is full
of trash-talk and posturing - false attempts to impress peers and foes alike- a
phony pretense used to prop up self-esteem. But at a time like this, all are
stripped away in a “winner take all” moment. It is Shelton vs. Rogers; show me
what you got, one shot at forever.
