Before that fateful night in the winter of 1981, Christopher S. Kolodny of Cotillion, Pennsylvania, a garment industry community fifty miles north of Harrisburg, was unknown to his classmates at Arlen Specter High School, home of the Specter Ghost Bullets, red and white uniforms, the football helmet sporting an illustration of an Old West handgun firing, held by a spectral hand.
On the Basketball side of things, the teams over the past four years of the school's history had failed to place even in the playoffs of state championships. Due to Kolodny, that was about to change.
Christopher, or usually Chris, Kolodny came from a quiet street with families all around, none of them loud. Chris's father was a slow burn alcoholic and an insurance man who enjoyed relaxing for the five or so minutes he could obtain after another boring day of work before his wife, Cherry, would interrupt him with inane comments about her day, about their neighbors, about the new postman's leaving others' mail in their mail basket, a piece Cherry wove herself. She took many classes, was always seeking to improve her mind. She spent an afternoon studying the topic of the medieval Cather heretics of southern France and then never thought about the subject again.
"Chatty Cherry" talked with her only child often. She heard him out about his concerns, frustrations, his feeling of invisibility in a school run by overpowering jocks. The culture of the school disgusted Cherry. It elevated sport and spectacle above the arts and learning for the sake of learning.
Chris excelled in English class, Calculus was tough, but he was managing well under the guidance of his Math teacher, Mr. Walton, a white-haired man who could add in his head really fast.
Chris's abilities during the basketball unit of Junior year physical education were noted by his teacher, Mr. Quilmer.
In their shared office, Quilmer remarked to Mr. Haskins, a teacher who coached the basketball team, "Mind young Kolodny. He's a good dribbler and has some good moves. I believe he would make the team."
Haskins, a pragmatic man who resembled Lee Iacocca but with a softer and less psychotic look, spoke one on one with Kolodny, at that time a junior.
"So, your first name?"
"Chris."
"Chris, I'm Coach Haskins. I want to see you do a lay up. Right now."
Chris Kolodny knew this to be an audition. He didn't care if he got the part, though.
Not graceful, but an effective lay up.
"Do another!"
Muffed the second. Hit the third, good net sound.
"Do five more!"
All of them successes. Haskins offered Kolodny Second String Forward. The team was in the dumps since four of their top players graduated. Bummer.
Kolodny's joining the team meant that fifteen adolescent boys had someone new to fool around with. They teased him, tested his gullibility, shoved him on the court and pretended it was accidental, threw basketballs at him and yelled at him to dance--he refused.
Kolodny, in his home life, preferred time alone in his bedroom. He had a Star Wars poster, a copy of the Star Wars novel, a model of an X Wing Fighter he made, he read Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut. He wrote in a journal later self-published, Christopher Kolodny's Journal, 1977 to 1997.
On November 12, 1979, the day Haskins recruited him, Kolodny wrote,
Jerry Haskins, the coach of the b-ball team, invited me to join. I accepted. I felt pressured by his gruff enthusiasm. He's a backslapper type, like Dad's friend Bobby. Bobby hurt me once with that come up behind you back slap. It made me tense my muscles, I felt it for two days. You bastard Bobby!
As part of the team I will be allowed to date a cheerleader, maybe three at a time. Robin or Cheryl I would prefer, not that I expect it.
My height, six-two, enables me to play on a basketball team, Backup Forward. The two Forwards are Mike Hopper and Gerry Wohler. Hopper has never acknowledged my presence, in junior high either.
Gerry Wohler is a psychopath, he's injured two people I know of. Rough conditions at home, it's said. Gerry Wohler turned his life around last year with the aid of Coach Haskins acting as basketball teacher and mentor. He adopted Gerry, he brought Gerry to live with him in Fortinbras, a rather working poor area. In a year Gerry was not only a good basketball player, he was a "fine young man."
No, he's a terror to others. He scarred people. Now I'm backing him and Mike Hopper. They're hateful but I will work with them.
Kolodny worked. Hopper shoved him often, was penalized and admonished not sternly in practice games, Kolodny missed half his free throws, better than ten members of the team, but he was ridiculed by Hopper and Wohler, Steyer and Prince, with the little Guard Lester Retz chiming in to fit in with the First Stringers, who, all except for Prince, were vicious jock morons who required constant tutoring.
Wohler confronted Kolodny in the locker room after a strenuous practice. "You better shape up. You're dropping the ball, literally. You're missing baskets, today you TRAVELED! You don't run with the ball in your hands, dummy!"
"I was trying to get away from Mike. He scratched me, see?" Kolodny showed a red welt on his right cheekbone.
"You did that to yourself! You're clumsy! You're stupid! You're worthless! Clumsy Kolodny!"
Wohler's punch deliberately missed Kolodny's head, but he heard hurtfully and felt jarringly the vibration of the indignant boy's fist denting a locker, Mike Hopper's.
"Shape up, Cuh-riss!"
The exit door got punched, too.
Kolodny's father sat with his drink, nodding, saying nothing about his son's getting nailed on the cheek and menaced by a handsome blonde goblin. Mrs. Kolodny, though, listened raptly, pursing her lips and shaking her head at the more intense parts.
"Honey," she said to her husband, "don't you think it's time Chris be taken off that team?"
"Why?"
"Haven't you heard what Chris has said?"
"Every word."
"Well?"
"Chris, do you want to play basketball with these creeps? It's okay if you do, it's okay if you don't, how's that for reasonable?"
"Chris honey--"
"Mom, it's okay, I never intended to leave the team. I just wanted to tell you my story."
"You can manage with these savage players?"
"Sure, I think so."
The Kolodny Kool from that point on was in play. He spoke little, studied much, practiced basketball, played for thirty seconds in the season opener, got knocked down. In the second game, played in Harrisburg, Kolodny scored one basket in the fourth quarter when the team was ahead by 21, then, per Kolodny, 23.
Chris wanted to be a Finisher. Someone who comes in during the last minutes, fresh, ready to play, uninjured, full of vim. Only in games, usually, where the outcome was certain did Kolodny bounce the Wilson.
He scored 14 points in Game Six, all baskets coming in the last 90 seconds. Final score, Ghost Bullets 60, Johnsonville Strikebreakers 85.
Still, such scenarios gave him game practice. He got steadily better, less clumsy, more just-given-the-silent-treatment by the First Stringers rather than the previous doses of brutality and verbal abuse.
By season's end, Kolodny had definitely earned the respect of Coach Haskins. Even Gerry Wohler said "Good game" to him after their last one, a disappointing loss at home that kept them from the playoffs. Kolodny scored 20 points in that one, Wohler 18, Hopper a mere 5. Mike Hopper also missed 9 out of 10 free throws. Kolodny didn't make fun of him in the locker room for that, but his teammates did.
Nobody could glower better than Michael A. Hopper, some found it fun to accentuate the glower through relentless verbal damage. The First Stringers were sometimes shitty to each other.
Kolodny practiced every day, layups in his parents' driveway, driver's education for summer school, his driver's test successful, license by the end of August, able to drive his Mother's Pacer to school on Mondays and Wednesdays.
Until b-ball started again in November, Kolodny worked on differential calculus, he read Twain's Huckleberry Finn and Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, he read the novelization of The Empire Strikes Back.
Entry from Monday, October 13, 1980, of the Kolodny Journal:
I'm looking forward to playing basketball again. I'm not looking forward to often seeing Mike Hopper. I ran into Gerry today in the Commons. He looked the same, anxious head bob at times, like he's trying to figure out what he needs to do. He said Haskins is getting difficult to live with. He drinks, he yells at the television after Gerry has gone to bed. The Coach had a woman over, like a lady of the evening, she looked Chinese, Gerry said. They were very loud watching television, especially the Coach, and then very loud doing something else. It was weird for Gerry, and I can understand why. I wondered if Gerry is trying to be friends with me? I've heard Mike isn't spending much time with him. Mike has a new girlfriend. Guess what she does. Football cheerleader, yup. Teresa Baginski. Two years ago, before a class started, she was sitting on my desk, her feet on her chair. I had a perfect view of her bottom. She was in her Junior Varsity Wrestling red and white cheerleader uniform. James Kline, next to me, gestured with his eyes at her backside, as if I hadn't noticed Teresa's butt on my desk. Cheerleader butt at that.
Mike and Teresa. Every time I see him in the hallways he's got the same Mike Hopper glower. The guy needs some sunshine in his life. Maybe Teresa will lighten him up? A happy Mike Hopper would make being his teammate an agreeable thing.
November 10, 1980, a Monday, first day of practice, 3:45 PM to 5:45, rusty players getting back in the groove. Verbal abuse at new players. Mike and Gerry prolific with sarcasm and shoving.
Has Teresa Baginski's tender influence not improved Mike Hopper's biliousness and aggressiveness?
Gerry, for all of his transformative experiences since coming under the influence of Coach Haskins, remained a sadistic physically strong boy effective at convincing those others not his victims that he was harmless.
No one complained about Gerry. He scored so many points, he ran in track and field events, earning himself trophies and ribbons as well as female attentions.
Gerry made the school, his and Kolodny's twelfth grade year of 1980-1981, proud of its basketball team, State Championship bound. College scouts interviewed Gerry. Some university in Indiana really wanted him. A small Illinois college recruited hard, lost out to Penn State.
GERRY!!!!!
Two red Number 10s on his jersey, Wohler an arc of future glories on the sweaty garment's back.
Mike Hopper, Number 16, the Lovebird with the constant look on his face of desiring to murder someone.
The little guard, Lester Retz, Number 13, a Three Point Man who never got girls due to his greasy face and awkwardness around the school's female half.
Leo Steyer, the other guard, Number 24, not as good as Retz, but one of the handsome ones; arrogant and cruel, father a sheet metal man.
Gabriel Prince, the six foot five center, Number 5, boyfriend of Homecoming Queen Linda Scholer, lived in the town's most expensive house with his gadfly parents. Gabriel did whatever he wanted in his own wing of the house. Kolodny was never invited there to any of Gabriel's parties. Orgy rumors circulated, probably weren't true, or were exaggerated.
Chris Kolodny now played in less games than the previous year's first half of the season. The five starters played excellently, the team accumulated five wins before losing a close one at home. In Game Seven Kolodny played quite a bit for an injured Mike Hopper. A very tall weighty boy slammed down on his foot, probably on purpose. Taken to the bench, Mike had tears in his eyes. Kalodny felt bad for him, felt bad for Teresa who would feel bad.
Kolodny scored just three points, did not impress the Coach, by now a bottle of scotch per night man. Kolodny's poor performance, at any rate, was shared by the team. Gerry Wohler scored only five points.
What could be happening with this splendid bunch?
Five more regular season games to go. Kolodny played in three of them, including the final one at home on Valentine's Day, 1981, a win needed to get into the State Championships.
Coach Haskins pushed Gerry in this game, yelled compliments and imprecations at him.
"Be great! Be grand! What the hell was that? Be overpowering, Gerry! What are you doing? Knock that little fucker over the next time he tries that! Be a missile! Be a gruesome foe to your court opponents!"
Gerry played well for a while and then, defending against a dodgy Carmen Wildcats guard, he stepped hard on the paint, made a sudden move right when his foot was pointing slightly left and went down, eyelids wide.
Kolodny, Number 14, replacing Wohler, in a whirlwind scored 16 points, narrowing the margin to 3 with 1 minute remaining.
"How do you feel, Gerry," Doctor Bauman asked.
"I feel fine," Gerry said hoarsely, voice tight.
Doctor Bauman touched his knee, pronounced him fit. He and Coach Haskins were old friends.
Gerry went back in, not fast anymore. He missed two baskets, missed two free throws. Mike Hopper at least held up his end of the game, scoring by that time 13 points including 3 free throws.
Wildcats 62, Ghost Bullets 59.
Haskins told Gerry to rest. Kolodny, with 3 seconds on the clock, scored a three-pointer to tie it. The crowd deafened anyone who thought about how loud it was.
OVERTIME.
To the crowd's surprise, Kolodny sat on the bench. Gerry was back.
The Penn State Man is in the bleachers, Haskins reasoned. The Penn State Man has to see Gerry shine.
Shine, Gerry!
Gerry scored no points. Gerry dropped the ball on an easy pass, picked up by a Wildcat guard to make it 67 to 63, Wildcats. Gerry fell down though no one had bumped into him. Gerry lay on the court for five minutes, attended by Doctor Bauman. Lifted by rookie teammates, Gerry was taken with Doctor Bauman to the locker room. Doctor Bauman had drugs in his suitcase.
The crowd, relieved, cheered Kolodny's return. Anybody with the slightest reasoning ability could see that Kolodny was the best Forward this game so keep him in.
Kolodny appreciated the crowd's approval, but he had a big job to do. A two point stuff by Gabriel Prince made it 67-65. Kolodny got fouled, scored a free throw, 67-66. The Wildcats rallied, their best Forward put the ball through the hoop, 69-66.
With only 5 seconds on the clock Kolodny burst past two opponents, made his way to just outside the three-point line and launched a successful trey.
69-69.
Crowd even louder than before. Unbelievable, who is this guy, sunk two three-pointers at the absolutely needed time! Kolodny, never heard of him. Oh, he's that guy in my English class who never says anything. Kolodny, yeah, I used to think he was a fag, but no way is that guy a fag, the way he plays.
No question now in Haskins' mind: Kolodny is the one.
The second overtime period began with Kolodny threading through his opponents for a layup. 71-69. Ghost Bullets in the lead!
Cheers, they love him! Next possession, Chris Kolodny scores a three-pointer from the side. 74-69!
Wildcats rally, score six unanswered points, 75-74, time running out!
Kalodny bursts, a layup makes it 76-75, such a narrow edge, such a minute margin!
The Wildcats' best guard scores a three-pointer, 78-76 Wildcats!
Fourteen seconds frozen on the clock, last time out.
"Get the ball to Kolodny!" Coach Haskins yells at his men, barely heard in the din.
Gabriel Prince has the ball, shoots it to Steyer on the side, Steyer shoots it back to Prince, Prince finds a brief opening as Kolodny breaks away from two opponents, zooms back from the paint, catches Prince's throw, turns, looks down, steps quickly outside the three-point line, aims and launches.
79-78, 2 seconds...1...Horn!
Nobody thinks about Gerry. Everyone celebrates Chris Kolodny!
Gerry Wohler joined the Marines and was killed in Lebanon in 1983.
Gabriel Prince became a Pennsylvania Republican Congressman and then a lobbyist for Big Coal.
Teresa Baginski married someone named Mike, though not Mike Hopper.
Mike Hopper became a cop in Allentown, a bouncer in Philadelphia, and finally, a mercenary. Missing in Afghanistan since 2004.
Mr. Kolodny died of a cerebral hemorrhage in 2019.
Mrs. Kolodny died of liver cancer in 2015.
Lester Retz became a landscape business owner and married a nice woman.
Leo Steyer became a licensed therapist.
Chris Kolodny went back to being a normal person. Fame and glitter last briefly, people once enthusiastic forget and think of other excitements. For part of one evening, Valentine's Day, 1981, Kolodny was a dribbling god. He scored 26 of the team's 79 points, nearly a third. He rallied them to make up for the loss of Wohler. They played better that night because of Kolodny, the school newspaper said so.
Coach Haskins approached Kolodny in the locker room afterwards, asked him to meet with the Penn State Man who'd come to watch Gerry. The Penn State Man wasn't interested in Gerry anymore. Even before the injury, Gerry had scored just six points and missed four free throws. Gerry hadn't been practicing much lately. Riding high on the team's first half of the season victories and the sexual experiences following from those, Gerry Wohler made the mistake of assuming superiority on the court. On the positive side, he also felt proud of his teammates, no longer bothering to torment any of them during this winning season.
Gerry was on his way. Gerry was going to college. Gerry was about to fall from the tower he constructed in his mind.
Chris, lacking troublesome ego, knew it didn't matter if the team won or not.
It's how you play the game. I played well tonight, my teammates played well, most of them. I'll hand it to Mike. He and I cooperated well, allowed each other the basket when we saw that was the right move. He's still a sourpuss, but at least he wasn't a problem. Gerry glared at me when I went in at overtime. I hope he's better for the next game, State Championship playoffs in Harrisburg! We're up against the Sloane High School Tomahawks of Osweguish. Said to be a good team. Said by somebody. Well, we'll maybe beat them!
They didn't. Eliminated in the first round. The Tomahawks destroyed them, 67-27. Kolodny scored 2 points, Mike Hopper 7, Lester Retz 12. Gerry watched from the bench, knee taped.
Coach Haskins now regretted having the Penn State Man talk with Kolodny. The Penn State Man had gone home, missing this horrible performance, but he would read about it in the newspaper.
The Penn State Man didn't call Kolodny as he said he would. The Penn State Man was looking at Henry Nightbird of the Sloane Tomahawks. Nightbird was darting. Nightbird was fast. Nightbird's free throw record was number one in the state.
Coach Haskins kicked Gerry out of his house. "Why don't you do something with your life? Join the Marines or something!"
After graduation on Saturday, June 13, 1981, Chris Kolodny drove his mother's Pacer to the grocery store to buy a four pack of Stewart's Key Lime Soda, the ambrosia of soft drinks. Driving home under the sunlit waving leaves of his quiet neighborhood, Kolodny spent the rest of the day drinking Key Lime, eating popcorn, and reading Stormbringer by Michael Moorcock, heroic fantasy at its best.
His mother made him a beautiful steak dinner, his father told him he was proud of him and then went to drink and watch television.
Vic Neptune
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