Summer 2009 • Issue 7 • Volume 2
The Sports Chick
by Joyce Barbatti
From the Sideline
by Eric Braley
Waterloo Native Combines Love of History, Wrestling
into Lifetime Career

by Nancy Justis
Can We Really Drink Energy
by Jean Vaux
Gymnastics Keeping Kids Fit and Focused
by Matthew Rowenhorst
Gym Shorts

History of Women in Sports Timeline

The Art of Recruiting
by Joyce Barbatti
Where Are They Now?
Andy Woodley

by Nancy Justis
Organization,Research Key
to Hosting Event

by Nancy Justis
Chalk Talk
I Drew a Royal Flush
by Dick Dietl
Kidz Kamp

Kidz Korner
by Abbey Schaefer
Weekend Warrior: Biking
the World with Lisa Collins

by Joyce Barbatti
Winter 2007 Issue 1
Spring 2008 Issue 2
Summer 2008 Issue 3
Fall 2008 Issue 4
Winter 2008 Issue 5
Spring 2009 Issue 6
Summer 2009 Issue 7
Fall 2009 Issue 8
Winter 2009 Issue 9
Spring 2010 Issue 10
Summer 2010 Issue 11

Chalk Talk
I Drew A Royal Flush

by Dick Dietl, Former UNI Sports Information Direction


This is a story that began in June,1963, at the University of Northern Iowa (then State College of Iowa). It involves five head coaches.

Little did I know I was succeeding two sports information directors (SIDs) who would go on to make names for themselvesacross the nation. Harry Burrell moved on to Iowa State. While at SCI, he was one of the very first SIDs in a country that was waking up to the opportunities provided by publicity. Burrell was replaced by George Wine, who went on to Iowa. He has authored two novels, one on the Hawkeyes and the other on former UI football coach Hayden Fry.

SCI’s athletics director, Jim Witham, had put together an outstanding coaching staff - Stan Sheriff, football coach, future athletics director, and the man behind the UNI-Dome; Norm Stewart, basketball coach and innovator of the three-on-three offense; Bill Koll, wrestling coach and the toughest man I have ever met; Jack Jennett, track and field coach, who ran the second best relays (Dickinson) in the state; and Mun Whitford, baseball coach, who stayed the course and knew the game. There have been other great coaches at UNI, but I would challenge anyone for employing a better five-some at one time.

Sheriff

Stan Sheriff was a great recruiter of players, turning individuals into winning teams. He had played in the NFL after finishing his schooling at Cal Poly-San Luis Obispo. Playing for the San Francisco 49ers at linebacker, he was reportedly one of the greatest necktie tacklers ever. Necktie tackles are illegal.

We once played at Eastern Michigan, a school tucked between Ann Arbor’s University of Michigan and the city of Detroit. EMU had a crafty coach named Frosty Ferzacca. It was the first game of the season. I can’t remember the name of the little EMU freshman halfback but twice he ran kickoffs back for touchdowns. On the next kickoff he came roaring down the SCI sidelines on his way to a third score when all of a sudden, with many players chasing him on the field and sideline players standing right at the out of bounds line, he disappeared.

Players from both sides looked around because there was no doubt he was going to score. He finally got to his feet, staggered around, and headed back to his bench. There he reported to Ferzacca that a Panther coach had decked him. Ferzacca did not believe him, the referees had no idea what happened, and the few press in attendance were puzzled. The officials put the ball at the SCI 38-yardline and signaled first down for Eastern.

We lost the game by a TD. Later, I sat in the restaurant with Stan waiting for our plane and found out that he truly had made the tackle with his arm. He felt very bad about it. He called Ferzacca that night, admitting his error. One week later Ferzacca called back to let Stan know the halfback had gone home, had never registered for school, and never did return. He just didn’t want to study.

Stan, of course, was the man who almost single-handedly got the UNI-Dome built. Certainly, others were heavily involved, but everyone marched to Stan’s drum. Later, he left Cedar Falls, went back to his home in Hawaii, and became the athletics director at the University of Hawaii. Returning home from a NCAA meeting, he collapsed in the airport and died. There is a sign in the UNI-Dome naming the field in his honor. The newer Hawaii basketball arena is named after him.

Stewart

Norm Stewart was quite successful in his short stay at SCI. He had a flair for the unusual. One year he took the Panthers to Ames, starting five former Iowa State players, and beat the Cyclones badly.

For me, his biggest move at SCI was his ability to take three of his five starters and use them only on offense. The other two did not touch the ball but kept the opponent’s defenders capable of any double teaming. I can remember two years running where this scheme worked, but he was using two different sets of three players. What amazed me was getting those two players to accept that role, knowing they would be part of the threesome the next year.

Norm’s best team finished third in the nation in the college division bracket - the first year of that three-on-three gimmick. After that successful season I asked him who he wanted to feature on the cover of the next year’s press book. He said he wanted his picture on the cover, explaining it would help him get his new job at his alma mater, the University of Missouri. The next year after another winning season, Norm was hired at Missouri as the head basketball coach.

Why not? He was a Missouri all-American athlete in his own right in both basketball and baseball. He had married the homecoming queen. His name now is printed on the basketball court in UM’s arena - Norm Stewart Court. He had a distinguished career there stretching nearly 25 years.

Koll

The first coach I met was Bill Koll. I walked into his office and was overcome by two things. First, he was dressed to trot onto the wrestling mat and go seven tough minutes with anybody. Secondly, it was apparent he was a very intelligent person. I also found out he was as tough as nails.

He was unbeaten in high school and college, pinning most of the wrestlers he faced. Bill went on to win three NCAA titles at 145 pounds. He lost one time in his life when he pinned himself in the Olympic semifinals. That’s right, he pinned himself. He hated the Olympics after that. Its rule is different from the NCAA’s. He had control of the Turkish wrestler he was going against, stretching him over his own legs. As he was putting the pressure on for the pin, he reached back for strength and his own shoulders touched the mat. There was the pin. Had he won, he would’ve been going for the Gold medal the next evening.

One story I won’t forget. Bill went to the hospital to have his appendix removed on a Monday. On Tuesday afternoon, he was spotted trotting down the street pushing his baby’s stroller. So much for recovery time. He went on to coach at Penn State with distinction.

Jennett

Jack Jennett had a wonderful career with the Panthers in an era when Drake was one of the top track and field schools in the country. Its relays ranked in the top four with Texas, Kansas and the Penn Relays.

Few would know the stress Jack had in combating that and the successes being gathered by Sheriff, Stewart and Koll. His teams, however, were at the top of the list in his conference. I only recall him making one major error in the seven years that I knew him.

That error was with his desire to make his runners’ presence known in Cedar Falls and Waterloo. He wanted them to be a part of the athletics scene. So, during cross country running in the fall, he went to the cheerleaders and convinced them to cheer on the Panthers as they ran against Wartburg.

What Jack did not do was explain to the cheerleaders the cross country scoring system. The cheerleaders cheered with all their might as the race went on and when the final score was announced, they broke into happy delirium, screaming on the Panthers. The score was something like Wartburg 18, SCI 42. I don’t know the exact score but I do know low score wins. The cheerleaders didn’t know that and Jack was so embarrassed. They did not appear at the next race.

Whitford

Mun Whitfordwas older than the rest of us, had been around SCI forever, and could coach baseball. It didn’t really matter to him what the weather was like. He was ready to play two games. He always seemed to be happy but never more so than during the spring. Many a day I froze my toes off announcing the next batter and writing down the next hit or out. It must have felt like 85 degrees to Mun.

I would always sit on the bench with the players, keeping score for Mun at road games. Every time there was a call against the Panthers, or at least against Mun, deserved or not, out would come his dentures. He would calmly put them in his pocket very carefully, pull his jacket down and start sprinting out after the official who had obviously made the wrong call. Mun would purposely forget some of the rules such as kicking the bag so that the dust would fly toward the umpire, or he would let his feet pass over the white foul lines until you could no longer see them. Rarely was he ejected in those last years, I think because of the respect the umpires had for what he had done for the game of baseball.

Why was he so careful with the dentures? “My wife can be very mean with me if I don’t take care of them. Nothing but hard meat to eat. I hate gumming my food,” he said.

No fledgling writer, I couldn’t have found a better school to start working at as the one I found in Cedar Falls.

I must relate o ne more story that has pleased me since it happened in 1969. Sheriff became involved in a unique television opportunity. He had a very successful season in football and his coach’s show was doing well on KWWL. The suits at the station offered him a chance to do the sportscasts during the summer months on Sunday nights.

The price was right and Stan accepted the challenge, bringing me along as the unpaid script writer. After all, I did that for his coach’s show during the fall. I would gather the scores of the day, write the script for the show while Stan lounged nearby talking to the other TV mouths. When the show started he was fine as he was introduced by the anchor man. Twenty-five minutes went by and finally it was time for sports.

The camera opened on Stan, who had his head down briefly. Then he looked up into the camera and saw the little red light go on. The sweat popped out on his forehead, his eyes widened, and he started reading the copy. The second page was all about golf and the third page turned to tennis. Stan was fine through the golf, turned the page over for the finish of that story and in mid-sentence he was talking about baseball. Pages three and four had stuck together because of his sweat dropping on the paper.

I still have no idea how he finished that five minutes, but I swear he had more energy left after a football game than he did after those five minutes.

I left SCI in 1970 to continue my 37 years in college athletics by taking over the same position at Drake, but those years couldn’t compare with Sheriff, Stewart, Koll, Jennett and Whitford.

I had drawn a royal flush!