The Legend of Greybull

By Ted L. Pittman

Billy Ramsey knew there was something very different about him from an early age. He was destined to be the greatest football player ever. Maybe the best athlete ever. Would this special gift be more of a burden than a blessing? When he moved with his family to Springtown to play football, the troubles started. Banned from playing his eighth grade season because he was too rough, he caught the attention of one of the best sports writers in the state. Young Jenny McBride loved him more than life itself and stood by his side as he went from a small town kid to the best known sports figure in the northeastern part of the nation. The legendary Greybull would re-define the game of football and burn his name onto the top of the record books. He was The Greybull, and there will never be another.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477255803

Ted L. Pittman

Ted L. Pittman was born and raised in the southern part of Oklahoma. A born and bred “baby boomer” he grew up in the slower times of the 1950s and 1960s in small town America. His early life centered around horses and cattle and the cowboy way of life. These early years proved to be a fertile setting for the stories in both “Black Cotton” and Black Cotton II.” Mr. Pittman has written about the Great Depression and its impact on the area where he grew up in “Son of the Red Earth,” a historical fiction based on a true story. “Bellwood Cowboy,” his biography of long time rancher and cowboy, Artie Quinton, chronicles the cowboy’s life for almost a century of living. Along with his wife Darlene, he now resides in Sulphur, Oklahoma where he enjoys spending time with his grandchildren and watching them compete in sports of all kinds. Fishing, boating, and outdoor cooking are among his favorite pastimes along with walks along the many trails in the beautiful Chickasaw Recreation Area near his home. A business manager, he has worked for the same company for over forty years.

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© 2012 Ted L. Pittman. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/23/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5582-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5581-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-5580-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012914189

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One: In the Beginning

Chapter Two: The First Season

Chapter Three: Controversy

Chapter Four: A Long Winter

Chapter Five: A Special Child

Chapter Six: A Legend Is Born

Chapter Seven: A Change of Heart

Chapter Eight: Sweet Revenge

Chapter Nine: Promise the Impossible

Chapter Ten: His Healing Hand

Chapter Eleven: A Dream Season

Chapter Twelve: The Letter

Chapter Thirteen: A Sad Day

Chapter Fourteen: The Special Gift

Chapter Fifteen: Romar College Football

Chapter Sixteen: The legend Grows

Chapter Seventeen: Going Home

Author’s Foreword

Over the course of recorded history, there have been numerous examples of both humans and animals that seem to have exceptional abilities far above that of normal members of a given species. Scientist and behavioral experts alike have struggled for decades to explain these occurrences. They don’t seem to fall within the normal realm of what is expected for that particular species.

One of the most widely known of these dates back to Biblical times. Sampson was known for his abnormal strength. We have all read the story, how Delilah tricked him into cutting his hair, thus giving away the source of his strength. Hercules was said to be so strong, he could carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. An exaggeration of course, but his strength is nevertheless legendary.

In more modern times, Jim Thorpe was said to be the greatest athlete of all times. Secretariat, the thoroughbred racehorse, will remain in most minds, the best of all time.

There are numerous examples of exceptional intelligence, memory, mathematical skills, endurance, and even tolerance for pain that boggle the mind and make one wonder how it could be so.

The story of Greybull is the fictional account of one such gifted athlete. His ability and athletic prowess are far beyond the level of his peers. His strength and speed far exceed that of the most talented individuals of his time or any other. He grew up in the city of Springtown, Rhode Island, and carved a legacy that will remain forever in the hearts of those who watched him play the game he loved.

His love for the girl he met as a youth was not to be. Their plans would die with him on the football field as he played the greatest game ever played. His story is one of triumph and agony, of love and loss. It is the story of a family blessed by God to care for one of His special people until He called him home. It is the story of the greatest of them all, the story of Greybull.

Dedication

The legend of Greybull is dedicated to my wonderful wife, Darlene. She is my inspiration, my guiding light, and my best friend. She is truly a Saint of God and I am most fortunate to have her in my life.

Acknowledgements

Darlene, my wonderful wife and partner for the cover designs and the hours of proofing.

Donald Ducky Day who graciously loaned his photo for the cover and for portraying The Greybull in the story.

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Chapter One: In the Beginning

The woman sat on the cold hard granite bench and stared at the monument in front of her. The blustery wind sent the brown leaves swirling around her feet as she sat there lost in thought. She shivered involuntarily as the cold air found its way through the thin jacket she wore. It was not the first time she sat there; she had been doing it most days for the past fifty years. Despite her sixty-six years, she was still a lovely woman. She was all alone in the world; had been all her life, it seemed. But no, there had been a time, a wonderful time in her life when she had all she ever wanted. That time ended on a football field just over fifty years ago. It ended when her first and only love died and sentenced her to a lifetime of loneliness. She had never married, never known the joy and heartache of having children. She had gone on to college and became a teacher. She taught at the high school where she graduated and where she spent her happy years.

She had been retired only a short time. It was the first fall in more than 45 years that she didn’t have a history class to teach. Mostly, these days, she just spent her time sitting here on the granite bench staring at the monument. The familiar words seemed to jump out at her this day more than any other.

In Memory of Billy Jack Ramsey

The Greybull Born September 30, 1941

Gone with God December 7, 1958

Here lies the greatest athlete the world has ever

known. His greatness will never be equaled. His time

here on earth was short, his memory will be eternal.

As she sat and stared at the words, she started turning the years back in her mind as she had done so many times. All the way back to 1953, the first time she saw the man she would always love. She was only 9 years old that day, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was looking at the only boy she would ever love. He was just a boy playing football when she spotted him that early fall afternoon, but he was destined to be the greatest ever. For the millionth time, she sat and re-lived his story.

It was the start of his seventh grade year when Billy Ramsey became convinced that there was something different about his body. He had suspected it for some time, but when his family moved to Springtown in the summer of 1953, and he had his first opportunity to play organized football, all doubt was removed from his mind. Billy had always been able to easily outrun and outperform even boys several years his senior in the small town of Brackett where he was born and attended school through the sixth grade. He had always chalked it up to the meager competition that was available in such a small town. Others had noticed though. Coach Meers had come to his house and visited a long time with his mom and dad just weeks into his fifth grade year. He had overheard enough to know that Coach was telling his dad that he ought to move to a bigger town where Billy could participate in sports at a higher level.

Most talent he’d ever seen, Billy remembered Coach Meers saying. Be a shame to waste all that talent in a school system that, just due to its small size, could never do it justice. Now, just a few short months later, here he was in the first football practice he had ever attended.

It was apparent right away that first day of football practice, that most all the other kids knew a lot more about football than he did. After all, this was the third year of organized football for most of them, having started playing in the fifth grade. When Coach Phelps asked him what position he played, Billy said he didn’t know.

Why don’t we put you with the running backs then? Coach Phelps said. You look like a running back anyway. As he trotted over to where an assistant coach was working with all the prospective running backs, Billy could see that there were several kids, most of them bigger than he was, trying out for the running back position. They were lined up one behind the other, and as each boy took his turn, the coach was just handing the ball off and letting them make a few moves through some fiberglass poles set randomly across the field. When it came his turn, Billy took the ball and accelerated through the poles like he had seen all the other guys do. When he turned around to throw the ball back to the coach, the coach was just standing there with his eyes all bugged out and his mouth open.

Do that again, he said.

Billy lined back up, this time at the front of the line, and did just exactly as he had done the first time.

You guys take a break for a minute’ the coach said. I’ll be right back. With that he jogged over to where Coach Phelps was working with the wide receivers.

You ain’t gonna believe this Coach, he said. That new kid, Billy Ramsey, you say he never played football before?

Just moved in from Brackett Coach Phelps said. They don’t have football at Brackett.

You’ve gotta see this, Coach. This kid has got some kinda speed. I’ve never seen anything like it."

Line ‘em up and we’ll run ‘em through the forty and get some times, Coach Phelps responded. We’ll see what kind of time they get.

One at a time the running backs ran the forty. As each kid finished, the timekeeper would call out the time and write it in a black notebook he kept on a metal clipboard.

Joe Sprouse, 5.16.

Ed Bunting, 4.98.

Jimbo Reed, 4.89.

Jimbo Reed had been the starting running back since fifth grade and was the fastest man on the team. When it came Billy’s turn, he ran through the forty smoothly, but didn’t push to run his fastest time.

Billy Ramsey 4.32 called the timekeeper, then realizing what he had just said; he dropped both the metal notebook and the stopwatch at his feet.

What’s that you said? Coach Phelps wanted to know. Did I hear you say 4.3 seconds? He ran over and picked the stopwatch up off the ground and looked to see the time himself.

By golly you’re right, he said. I gotta see this again. Line back up Billy and let’s get another time.

Billy lined back up and when the whistle blew he put a little more effort into the try. Not really all he had, just a little more effort.

4.29 hollered the timekeeper. Four point by gosh three. Never heard of such a thing at this age. Coach Phelps was just standing there with a big grin on his face. What had he done to deserve a kid that could run 4.29 in the seventh grade? He didn’t even have a kid on the high school team that could break 4.5 seconds. Visions of Championship Trophies were running through his head. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Coach Barrows’ face when he saw this kid for the first time. Coach Barrows was the head coach over at Pendleton High School and they had won five 4A State Championships in a row. The last four of those wins had been against Springtown in the finals.

Okay, that’s enough for today, Coach Phelps hollered. Billy, would you meet me in my office for a minute?

As Billy lowered his spare frame into the chair in front of Coach Phelps’s desk, he couldn’t help but wonder what he had done wrong. Here it was the first day of practice and he was already on the carpet for something.

What did I do wrong Coach? he asked. I know I’m not very good at football right now. I never got to play football at Brackett. If you’ll give me a little time, I’ll get it right, I know I will. Coach Phelps was just sitting there looking back at him.

You think you did something wrong? You think I called you in here ‘cause you did something wrong? You just get that notion out of your head, young man. I called you in here to have a little talk with you about playing football for the Broncos. I know you’re green right now, but with what I saw out there today, you’ll be doing fine in a week or so. What I really want to know is this. Can you really run 4.3 seconds in the forty all the time? What else can you do?

Well, I’m not sure Billy replied. I really haven’t done a lot of sports, just basketball and a little baseball. I can throw a baseball pretty good.

"How about a football, can you throw a football?’

I guess I can Billy replied. Haven’t really tried much. Just playing around some with the guys.

Let’s go out on the field and throw the football around a little if you don’t mind, Coach Phelps said. They gathered up two assistant coaches who had been listening just outside the office door and headed out to the field.

Just throw the ball back and forth a little to get warmed up, Coach Phelps said, nodding to Coach Madsen who was the wide receiver coach. They tossed the ball around for a few minutes then Coach Madsen trotted out to the fifty yard line. With Billy on the twenty, they were now thirty yards apart.

See if you can hit me in stride Billy, Coach Madsen hollered. Then he took off toward the sideline at about three quarter speed. What happened next would stay with Coach Phelps the rest of his life. He saw Billy bring the ball up into throwing position, he saw the arm come forward, but all he saw of the ball in the air was a blur just before it caught Coach Madsen square in the solar plexus with a loud plop. Coach Madsen was writhing on the ground and it was plain to see that he was having trouble catching his breath. When he could finally catch some air in his lungs, he rolled over and was barely able to get his legs under him and stand up. He had a sickly look on his face when he pulled up his shirt tail to reveal a dark blue bruise running across his stomach. The outline of the laces was clearly visible in the middle of the bruise.

It’s okay Billy Coach Phelps said when he saw the look of concern on Billy’s face. He just wasn’t ready that’s all. He’ll learn to watch the ball from now on. Why don’t you run on home now? See you at practice tomorrow.

As he and Coach Wilkins helped Coach Madsen into the field house, Coach Phelps had a distinct swimming sensation inside his head. How could anyone, especially a twelve year old kid, throw a football with that much velocity? What was there about this kid? It was sort of scary is what it was. At sixty-three years of age, he had been thinking seriously about retirement after this football season. Now, with what he had seen today, retirement was the farthest thing from his mind. My gosh, that kid could throw a football! If he could figure a way to slow him down enough so somebody might have a chance of catching it, he could be the best passing quarterback to hit this neck of the woods in many a year.

Little Jimmy Toms was waiting for him just outside the stadium when Billy came out of the gate. Jimmy was the only friend he had made in the short time he had been living in Springtown. Jimmy was a couple of years younger and a head shorter, but lived just down the street. That put him the same age as Billy’s little sister Franny. He had ventured up to Billy’s house as they were unloading the big UHAUL truck the day they moved in. He jumped in and helped to unload the furniture and boxes, and when everything was unloaded and into the house or sitting on the lawn, Jimmy’s mom showed up with a big tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade. That was two weeks ago and they had become best friends until school started and they had to go their separate ways since they were in different grades. Billy was in the Junior High building across campus facing Ninth Street, while Jimmy was still stuck in the Middle School building over by the bus sheds. The only time they saw each other during the day was at lunch time.

What took you so long? Jimmy wanted to know. All the other guys left over a half hour ago.

Coach Phelps wanted to talk to me after practice. Wanted to watch me throw a football and stuff.

You figure to make the team Billy? Gosh, that would really be something to make the team the first year you ever played football.

Might just do that. Coach said he’d see me at practice tomorrow. At least he didn’t kick me off the team the first day.

You want to stop by my house on the way home? I’ll bet my mom will make us a snack.

Naw, I better get home. I’m already late what with having to stay after practice and all. Mom will be out looking for me if I’m very late. See ya tomorrow. As he headed down the street toward home, his mind kept straying back to the practice. What would Coach Phelps have thought if he had ran his fastest time? Or better yet, what if he had thrown the football as hard as he really could? It was all so confusing. He felt so all alone in his knowledge that he was not like the other boys. He had never told even his parents the extent of his abilities as related to strength, speed, and agility. He knew he could pick up the front end of a Volkswagen; he’d done it a number of times when nobody was watching. He knew he could jump at least seven feet high; he’d done that on a number of occasions as well. As for agility, he knew he was able to jump at least twelve feet sideways at a full run and never miss a stride.

Just last year when the school had taken all the kids to the State Fair, he had ventured up to the stand where you could win a stuffed Teddy Bear if you could throw a baseball over ninety miles per hour. When no one was around except the attendant, he paid his quarter and took the three balls the man handed him. He never got to throw more than the first ball however. When the first ball registered 106 MPH on the gun, the man threw a stuffed bear at him and closed down the booth.

Was he a freak? Someone who was destined to scare folks with what he could do like he did the man at the fair? He was having second thoughts about even going out for the football team. Being on the team was sure to bring a lot of unwanted attention his way. What if he just acted like the normal guys? Yea, that’s what he would do! He’d just fit in with all the other guys. Do just enough to make the team, but not enough to bring undue attention his way. With that decided, he began to feel better. Now if he could just manage to keep himself in check, everything would be alright. The next day at practice would be the first chance to try out his new strategy. He could hardly wait.

What’s wrong with you today Billy? It was Coach Phelps following him back to the huddle. It was the first day of practice in pads and Billy was playing tailback with the starting offense. Things had gone pretty well the past week without the pads. He had managed to control himself and do enough to get noticed and apparently enough to get a shot at the starting tailback position. But now with the pads on, Coach Phelps was expecting a lot more from him than he was willing to show.

Where’s that 4.3 speed Billy? Coach was asking. Where are those athletic moves I know you can make? You’re doing okay, but I know you can do much better. I’ve seen you do much better. Now get back in there and carry that ball like you know you can.

He had carried the ball a half dozen times and gained four or five yards a carry before letting himself be tackled. It was hard to just let himself be tackled when he knew he could either run over the tackler or avoid the tackle altogether. It had to be that way though. He was just not going to be thought of as a freak anymore. He’d rather not make the team at all than be thought of that way.

The red and white scrimmage was the highlight of the pre-season every year. Coach had done his best to divide the talent between the two teams. Billy was starting tailback for the red team, and was looking forward to this final tune up before the regular season started. Besides that, there was going to be homemade ice cream and cake after the game. All the moms had brought goodies and his mom was no exception. He could see her standing with all the other moms as they waited to make their way into the stands. His dad was already in the stands all the way on the top row just below the announcer’s stand.

The red team was on offense first and Jimbo Reed took the kickoff at the five yard line and ran it out all the way to the thirty two. As the offense