A College Called Panhandle

"Well," said Coach Williams. "I've gone into the matter of arrangements pretty thoroughly. Now, I understand he wants to go to medical school. We can arrange a course that will give him a B.S. degree and qualify him for any medical school anywhere. On top of that I've arranged with one of our finest doctors in Guymon to act as the boy's adviser. Dr. Bailey Dietrich is his name and he's interested in helping Panhandle boys in every way he can."

The widow made a small gesture of impatience.

"That's the future. What about right now, Coach? Can you take him as a transfer student from junior college and make a deal on a scholarship?"

Coach Williams drummed his fingers on the desk.

The widow pressed on. "This is an unusual boy, Coach. I kid you not. He's got that old desire."

"Oh, there's no doubt about his abilities," said Coach Williams. "Now here's the situation in a nutshell. I've been in touch with Ken Gallagher, the commissioner of our conference. I explained the case, and Ken's advice was that your son go back to junior college and finish out his year. Then report here August 31. He'll come in as a junior, he'll be eligible to play in 1965, and I am authorized to offer him a full scholarship—books, board, room and tuition, plus a campus job to keep him in pocket money."

The young lineman blurted: "Sure sounds fine to me. With the doctor advising me and—"

The widow silenced him with a wave of her hand. She rose slowly from her chair. "Coach," she said, with feeling, "that's as fair a deal as I could ask for. You won't regret it. I kid you not. This boy will give you everything in the way of desire and motivation. And I'll be down here for every home game. I told my boss—I'm a secretary—I told my boss, no summer vacation for me, I'll take my time off in long football weekends. And I promise you, Coach, that this lad will really put out for you. He—"

"I'll hit those books hard, too," the son said.

The widow waved him down. "Coach, you've been just grand. You're a perfect gentleman in every sense of the word and I'm proud to have my son playing under you. He won't disappoint you. If he does, let me know. I'll jump in my car and get down here and let him have the heel of my riding boot where it will do the most good." She looked around. "I kid you not, son."