Coach Prothro was revered by every player that ever played for him. When he walked into the film room or dining hall, nobody ever had to ask for quiet. Automatically, a hush fell over us all and you could hear a pin drop. He could have easily been General Patton reviewing his troops. We were quite certain he carried the power of life and death in his 6’5 frame. Needless to say, he ran a tight ship.

Let me tell you about two football players and the longest forty mile ride in the history of man…

During the time these two stalwart lads were at OregonStateUniversity, there was no Liberal Arts School. This meant the ratio of men to women was about 2:1 men! Obviously, the number of coeds enrolled there were fewer in number than down the road at OregonUniversity.

Although the girls at O.S.U. were very attractive, most were also very serious students and spent their weekends in the library with their slide rules. – A primitive form of calculator –. As a result, these two best friends would occasionally accept invitations from girls at O.U. to attend parties, and such, down at Eugene. – Yes, the same school that many years later, would be the film site for a movie called Animal House –.

Naturally, while on the O.U. campus, these lads always tried to keep a low profile. Obviously, being athletes from a hated rival school could prove to be contentious if it was discovered they were there. One night, as fate would have it, these two buddies happened to be at a particular fraternity house where there was a considerable amount of liquid refreshment being served. It was Winter Quarter and, as usual, raining cats and dogs. To their chagrin, 4 or 5 of the other guests were O.U. football players who just happened to be there. Fortunately, by the time the O.S.U. guys arrived at about 9 pm, the refreshments had gotten most of the O.U. guys pretty “loose”.

Unfortunately, one O.U. guy in particular happened to recognize them. To compound matters, one of the O.S.U. players unknowingly, was with the O.U. guy’s ex-girlfriend who had recently broken up with him. – It didn’t dawn on them, until months later, that this young lady might have arranged this little soirée –.Well, one thing led to another and as one might expect, one of the O.S.U. guys got pushed by a by an Oregon Duck! Naturally, no self respecting O.S.U. Beaver allows himself to get pushed by a mallard. Therefore, he had to protect himself by hitting the guy who pushed him. He hit him square in the snot locker, and he went down like a turkey turd out of a tall hemlock. Then, as they say, all hell broke loose and they proceeded to fight their way out of the place. Fortunately, neither of them hit the floor. If they had, it could have gotten really ugly. The difference was, the O.S.U. guys had all of their faculties, unlike some of those poor Oregon Ducks, who couldn’t figure out how to form a circle.

However, in the process of punching and ducking, -- no pun intended – a few things got broken and someone called the police. By the time they hit the front lawn, the paddy wagon was waiting for them – over the years, the police had a beaten path to that particular location– and off they went to the local constabulary just in the nick of time. It was their good fortune that neither they nor anyone else was seriously injured. Now, here’s the important part of the story…. To begin with, they told the truth to the officer in charge and he agreed to let them go. However, he wouldn’t just allow them to be on their own back on the streets of Duckville. – Who knew what sinister plans were being drawn up by some wobbly Ducks – Therefore, since there was nobody he could release them to, he insisted on calling Coach Prothro! Well now, that was a horse of another color. These two brave and unyielding lads all but got down on their knees and begged him to put them in solitary confinement, in chains, or even whip them, anything! But please, they pleaded, don’t call Coach Prothro!

All of this pleading and caterwauling came to no avail. In the end, the officer made the call from another room. They could only imagine the conversation. They already knew Coach Prothro was an early riser, so they could make a pretty good guess what was said. By this time, it was about 1:00 a.m. and still raining heavily. After awhile, the chief came back with an ashen complexion and told them their coach would be down to pick them up. He then left and they never saw him again. All the two lads could do was sit quietly handcuffed to a bench in a hallway and anxiously await their fate. About an hour passed, and Coach Prothro calmly strode through the door in a rain coat, drenching wet. His face was expressionless except for a look of sleep deprivation. He didn’t even acknowledge their presence. He walked directly to the night desk and signed some papers. After doing so, he turned on his heel and went back outside without saying a word or even glancing their way. As he did so, our two young men just looked at each other, batting their eyes like two bullfrogs in a hailstorm.

Their shackles were removed and the officer at the desk called them up and gave them their belongings. Reluctantly, they then headed toward the door. As it was described later, they were trying to push and shove each other out of the place. The sight reminded one of a bumbling and shuffling routine in a Laurel and Hardy movie. Needless to say, neither of them wanted to get in that car first. Like two school girls, they anxiously peeked outside up and down the street. They were hoping against hope to see Coach Prothro’s car gone. But, no such luck. There sat the ‘58 DeSoto four door sedan with big, mean looking fins.

When they got to the car, one of them reluctantly got into the front seat as the other one had beaten him to the back seat. – He would have gotten in back too, but he thought it might look a little silly if they were spotted driving through town –. Coach Prothro started the car and they headed back to Corvallis. They drove 40 miles through a downpour without a word being spoken! Talk about squirming. These two buddies felt they had formed blisters on their backsides by the time they got back to Beaverville. It was well after 2:00 a.m. when they rolled up to their place and meekly got out of the car. At this point, Coach Prothro just drove away, leaving them standing in the rain. With all that had happened, the two best friends were pretty bruised up and a little tired. However, tired or not, they spent the rest of the night awake, pondering their fate.

Thankfully, Sunday came and went uneventfully.Then, bright and early on Monday morning, they got a call from Coach Prothro’s secretary. She told them, in no uncertain terms, to be in his office as soon as possible. Now, you have to understand by this time, they had all kinds of visions about their scholarships being pulled and being drummed out of school and all. They thought they would be disgraced back home and become social outcasts. All of this was going through their sophomoric, somewhat empty heads as they headed to his office. By the time they got there, Coach Prothro was behind his desk, with his head down, going over a list of damages and the costs from their Saturday night sortee. As they held their breath, all sorts of images were conjured up. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked up, and to their amazement, he told them that he had thought it over and generously decided he would cover the costs for them! – He knew of course, neither of them had a dime — However, he said, they had to work it off by reporting everyday to either the trainer, equipment manager or head groundsman. They were to do any work these gentlemen needed done. They were to do this, the remainder of the school year.

In addition, he said, they had to write letters of apology to the Eugene Police Department for any trouble they had caused. He also informed them, “that would be the last of it and everything that had happened would stay in his office.” As blood rushed back into their oxygen starved brains, it dawned on them that there was redemption after all. Of course they fell all over each other agreeing with what he said. Naturally, they never spoke of it again publicly until the day they graduated. – Sports writers weren’t investigative reporters looking for dirt in those days, so word never got out about the incident.– Suddenly, they were given new life. As they got up to leave, they probably bowed or curtsied or something else degrading. They couldn’t remember.

However, they did remember, as they were about to leave, Prothro’s big frame coming around from behind his desk. At first, they thought it was going to be Saturday night all over again. – their feet began to shuffle again. – However, without a word, he walked up and gave them each a hug. Strangely, he smiled and then said, in that Tennessee drawl, “ahh, to be young and stupid”. And out they went. Needless to say, they left that office with a whole new perspective on Coach Tommy Prothro.The point of the story is this: After all that occurred, Coach Prothro had every right to yank their scholarships. But, he didn’t, because he knew and cared about both of them. He knew that they were capable of graduating one day and that they would, sooner or later, get out in the world and make him proud. He also knew if he sent them home, there was nothing waiting there for either of them. He knew poverty was no stranger in both their homes.

Of course, what he didn’t know, was that one wouldn’t make it out of his twenties. Tragically, he would fall in Viet Nam. The other?……..  became a football coach.