Biography
A First Memory of Beloit College
Jerry Gustafson, ‘63
It must have been the spring of 1957 when my older brother David, then in his third year at Beloit, told me I had to see a Beloit basketball game. It was Dolph Stanley’s last year.
Dave said the Buc’s played in a recycled airplane hanger the coach had brought up, post-war, from St. Louis. I had heard of this old field house before; I had read in the papers that Duke Ellington had appeared there, and Bob Hope, and a touring group of jazz greats from Birdland in New York. It was hard to imagine an old rebuilt Quonset hut could feature a series of such stars. But it was famous for Bucs basketball. Stanley had taken the team to Madison Square Garden! Just a few years back, the Bucs blew out DePaul!
I can’t remember how I got to Beloit from Rockford. I was a month or so short of 16 so I could not have driven. Dave must have picked me up. He was at the game that night, playing in the stage band. Anyway, I was alone.
The excitement hit me as soon as I hit the door. The band was warming up on some up tempo tune as I wove my way through the concession area and found my seat – in temporary bleachers set up all along under the East basket. Bleachers were similarly placed on the West side with the band occupying at least three rows at the end toward the visitors dressing room.
The place was jammed to the rafters. Stragglers were struggling up through the people massed on the sides, bleachers in front and actual, lovely chairs in the overlooking decks! I noticed the South deck and bleachers were filled mainly with townspeople out for their evenings entertainment. Suddenly, the band stopped. Then a sound system filled the house with Sweet Georgia Brown. And on came the Bucs!
The warm up drills started with the players around the circle, the ball flew around and through bodies, arms, and legs, all the fancy passing in tempo with the music. Then came the lay-ups: some passes behind backs, some tricky lobs, running, leaping, fakey looks-
and always running. The Bucs were doing the Harlem Globe Trotters’ act!
Obviously, the visiting team was warming up on the same floor at the same time. Neither I nor anyone else noticed them. It must have been annoying to have to warm up at a tempo of the 170 beats per minute or so at which Sweet Georgia was moving.
This was quite a show. The crowd-pleasing stopped suddenly as the energy had reached its peak. Some lights switched off and in the darkened arena an overhead spotlight dramatically lit a flag. We sang our anthem accompanied by that great band. Then, the tip-off and we were off to the races.
I knew Stanley teams were famous for the fast break. After every rebound the ball came down the floor as rapidly as passible, flying from passer to passer, always seeking the open man, intent upon getting the ball as close to the basket as possible, ideally for a fast lay-up. Stanley also was known for a few standard plays such as “pick and roll” where the motion of players creates a continuous weaving pattern, with players constantly breaking to get open as they head toward the basket. Never before had I seen such play executed exactly as drawn on a blackboard. It was obvious the Bucs were as disciplined as they were fast.
This style of play is designed to get shots off quickly. Hence games tend to be high scoring. That is doubly true when both plan to use that style. As I watched, it seemed impossible that as the Bucs scored quick baskets, one after another, they were not pulling ahead.
I do not recall the opposing team. I have always remembered it as Augustana but no such game against Beloit in 1957 seems to have happened. It was not a conference game, for sure, for Beloit had not yet returned to the Midwest Conference. That was why Dolph was leaving. Whoever was the visitor, by half-time it was clear the game would be a barn-burner.
But so, it turned out, was half-time. The last whistle had hardly blown when the band exploded. Jack Farina, ’57, still in Beloit and more famous for the big bands he has lead here for sixty years, was the drummer. Two fantastic trumpeters, one a transfer from the famous jazz-oriented Berklee School could blow the roof off. Dennis Wik, ‘60, played alto like Paul Desmond and led the sax section. The band did not merely add to the festive air. The music was big-time, professional level entertainment.
The second half was on. The scoring commenced, the lead changing hands every couple of minutes. The whole crowd, including the townspeople, was going nuts. I do not recall the names of the players. I shall look them up after I have finished this impression. But by now, I had picked my favorite, the play-making, shooting guard, Gerry Whitlow. He never seemed to slow down, let alone stop. I was panicky as the time was running down; I had no more patience to watch the play execution. All I wanted was for Whitlow to shoot. What a shame guys like Whitlow did not have the three-point shot.
I was really into it when the opponents pulled away. They won. In my memory, they scored over 100 points. But in my memory, Beloit did also, even while losing. That could not possibly be, could it? I’ll check later but it makes no difference now. This is my impression: it was a whale of a game.
The massive crowd was grumbling about the loss. As I filed out with them I thought instead that I had seen more than a game: it was a great show, an excellent production. The talent, the quality of performance, all was top-notch. This fabulous event said “Beloit College is big time.” If Beloit does everything at this level of quality, I thought, maybe I should come here.
Two years later, I did. I have been a Bucs fan for many years. The field house has become my temple. Over Bill Knapton’s career, I watched hundreds of games and some championship teams both there and in the Flood arena. But no game I ever saw made a bigger impression on me than that first one, in Dolph’s last season at Beloit.
