Pat Quinn - NewsPress
May 07, 2008 11:00 am
—
This is personal and quite frankly, I don’t really give a hoot whether you do or do not take the time to peruse the following words.
Sam Aubrey (I always called him “Samuel Bertram”) was one of the most loyal, caring, courageous and competitive men I’ve ever known. I know this isn’t grammatically correct, still Sam met the criteria of the best meaning of each of these words, and then some.
It’s been repeatedly chronicled about his meritorious service in WWII but it bears repeating, numerous times. To be sure, you had to pry hard before the modest Aubrey would tell the story of how his life was painfully interrupted by a bullet from a German Mauser.
Twenty-two-year-old First Lieutenant S. Aubrey was leading his platoon through an Italian town when he turned the corner of a half-destroyed building before German automatic weapons fire shattered his hip.
This happened September 18, 1944, and the prognosis by U.S. Army surgeons wasn’t the most optimistic word of the day. In fact, one surgeon told Aubrey, “You’ll be in a wheel chair by the time you’re 35.”
Among other awards given Aubrey by the Army included the Purple Heart and Silver Star.
Aubrey, who graduated from Tulsa Central High School, decided to return to then-Oklahoma A&M in the fall of 1945 to finish work on his degree that he began in the September of 1940. When he announced to his late wife, Dorothy, he wanted to tryout for Mr. Iba’s basketball team he was assaulted by a barrage of angry words.
By his own admission, “I only played basketball one year in high school and was nothing more than a second-team center.” Few — and Aubrey himself may have been in that group — realized the stern stuff this lanky Native American was made of.
Aubrey won a starter’s berth on Iba’s 1945-46 team that set a school record of 31-2 on its way to a second consecutive NCAA championship. This was a first in NCAA history.
Always downplaying his role, Aubrey used to claim, “My job was to cover somebody and get the ball off the backboard if (Bob) Kurland didn’t get it.”
He graduated from A&M the following spring, making the Dean’s Honor Roll in both semesters, before coaching basketball at Pryor High School for next three years, 1947-49.
In typical Aubrey humor he related his role on the Pryor volunteer fire department was “the nozzle man on the high-pressure hose.”
His high-school-coaching record was 46-29 and he tutored Okmulgee Tech for four years turning out a 67-52 mark. Thirty-three of his losses at Okmulgee were against four-year colleges and university freshman teams.
Iba beckoned him in 1953 to come to A&M where he stayed until Iba’s retirement in 1970. The school’s basketball talent pool was at low level and other problems relating to the west side of campus combined to hold him to 18 wins over three years before resigning.
But, enough of this basketball stuff! Aubrey was an avid fan of fishing and hunting plus another talent he possessed — and few knew about it: he was a top-notch pitcher in fast-pitch softball.
We had a team we called “The Nine Old Men” and with Aubrey pitching we were more than successful. It was agreed we’d never play an out-of-town game but one exception was made.
Glencoe had a very good softball pitcher (Bill Childress), who was a heck of a nice guy. They wanted us to come to Glencoe to play a benefit game to help raise funds for an electronic scoreboard at the high school.
We agreed the trip would be worth it and we went with most of us paying admission despite appreciative protests by the hosts. It was fun, just like Sam wanted it, and we even won the game.
Sam always said that was the most worthwhile athletic venture we made because he added, “We were given the right to fish the best ponds in the Glencoe area.”
There were so many wonderful basketball trips at now Oklahoma State where Sam roomed with Mr. Iba and I was billeted with late and great broadcaster, Bill Platt.
All three of them knew I enjoyed sleeping late and more times than I could count, Bill would let Sam or Mr. Iba in our room to pour melted ice on me (from the night before) that more than immediately launched me out of bed.
Whether it was basketball, softball or fishing, Aubrey was a man for all seasons and always he topped it off with that crooked smile that assured us he was glad to be a friend.
I only hope Sam knew he made life a little better and a lot happier for all of us.
Copyright © 1999-2008 cnhi, inc.