When the tough exterior of sports is penetrated, a fragility is found that encompasses many poignant and emotional moments. Following are some of the unguarded scenarios that told more than the scoreboards during 1984 in the Long Beach and Southeast area.
Demise of Dave Buss
Coach Dave Buss, confident he could resurrect basketball at Cal State Long Beach, was a few hours from another loss on a crystal March day in Santa Barbara as he watched the mountains shimmer in a soft blue sky.
Buss, who had come from Wisconsin where he was used to gray winters and victories, said, "Losing isn't fun, but a loss is a lot easier to take when you walk outside and it's 75 degrees, not 5 below."
A few weeks later, Buss was out in the cold after resigning under pressure after a 9-19 season.
An American Dream
The rodeo came to the Long Beach Arena in February. Out in the parking lot hours before the show, a couple were lying next to a can of beer in the back of their pickup truck. Their horse was standing in a pen. They had driven all night from Arizona so the woman could compete in barrel racing.
"I'm the husband who hauls her around," Richard Gunter said as he put his arm around his wife, Sharon.
They cuddled in the bright sun against a stinging wind, wrapped up in the American dream.
An Athlete's Struggle
At a hospital in February, Lynwood High School senior Shawn Powell, who became a quadriplegic during a football game, was beginning a struggle to function with dignity. His once-powerful frame was thin and motionless. His teeth clenched as he tried to turn his hands and lift his head.
"You just hang in there and thank God," he said, "and be thankful for what you have."
A week earlier, he had returned to Lynwood High where he was wheeled in front of the student body. White TV lights bathed him. A girl yelled, "We love you, Shawn," and a standing ovation cracked the tension.
Shawn Powell Revisited
Shawn Powell was at a therapy session in late June. His arms were fastened to little "skateboards," which were attached to a pulley system. Powell moved the boards vigorously, their wheels grating on a table.
"I wasn't supposed to move my arms," he said. "Look how far I've come now."
He was beaming. In a week, he would go home. He is there now, looking forward to attending USC next semester.
Becoming a Kid Again
On a dusty infield on a hot July Saturday, Roger LeClair, 61, was pitching for the Downey Deans, champions of a 55-and-over slo-pitch softball league. All the Deans had recaptured their youth, but none more than LeClair, who said between innings:
"I don't have time to work anymore and I don't make as much money, but I don't give a damn. This brings out the kid in you. Call me up at 3 in the morning and I'll go out and play ball with you."
On an October afternoon, Joyce Koehn of Gahr High School's volleyball team hurled her 6-foot-2 body onto a wood floor in pursuit of the ball, her skin turning pink from the exertion. She did this over and over during a practice despite pain from a sprained ankle that made her eyes glassy.
"Juice" was her nickname.
"The electricity, the juice of the team," she said.
Koehn was an all-league performer who led Gahr to the Southern Section title. But the Gladiators lost to Corona del Mar in their bid for a second straight state championship.
Traditions at St. Paul
In late autumn, the St. Paul High School varsity football players, wearing blue blazers with flowers in the lapels, held hands and walked their field hours before the game with Servite, keeping alive a tradition.
At the end of the walk, the seniors broke into small groups to talk and shake hands until the pounding of another tradition broke the quiet.
Players on the sophomore team were being run up and down the bleachers by a coach. Their time to reflect was two years away.
The Swordsmen lost to Servite and ended the season with a 5-5 record.
Time Out for the Family
Mike Sheppard, the new 32-year-old football coach at Cal State Long Beach, was near the end of a long day at spring practice in April. He walked to the sidelines to join his wife, Cathy, and children, Brian, 1, and Christina, 5.
"Daddy, watch me, Daddy," Christina said as she tossed a football.
Sheppard said to Christina, "Can you give me a kiss?" Brian, with that desperate look of a child realizing his father is leaving, moved in for one too.
Sheppard, eager to resume building a team, ran back on the field. His children's eyes followed him every step of the way.
The 49ers went 4-7 under Sheppard.
A Team's 10th Man
The most memorable member of the Lakewood High School baseball team wore a uniform but he wasn't a player. He was the scorekeeper and groundskeeper.
"Look at that field. It's beautiful," said senior Rich Flores as the Lancers practiced for the Southern Section playoffs in May. Flores pointed to a wide expanse of green grass and well-manicured brown dirt.
"This is my way to participate in the sport. Part of me is out there. I'm probably the 10th player."