March 15 The Butcher of Martin County

I remember being a freshman in high school, sitting in Study Hall, doing a total Napoleon Dynamite. I was sitting there drawing pictures in my notebook of Mr. Clean. I felt like Mr. Clean was the funniest looking person in all of television advertising. He was bald and muscular, that meant he was a badass, he wore a white t-shirt and white pants that meant he was either a massuese or a janitor, and he had a gold loop earring that meant he was gay. Pete Bruner was sitting across from me, chewing about 7 clods of bazooka bubblegum. He blew a bubble so large it engulfed his entire head and then popped. He had wads of gum on his face and in his hair. I laughed. The next thing I knew the study hall teacher, who was also the basketball coach had me by the arm and drug me and Pete to his private office. Pete's crime had been blowing bubbles in study hall, and my heinous crime was.... laughing at Pete being a dumbass. He told us to turn around and bend over and not to look back. He began giving us a speech about how normal people are to behave in this world, becoming more agitated as he spoke. I didn't turn around, but I could see his distorted reflection in a gold drawer handle. I won't say he was masturbating, but I did detect rapid, rhythmic motions coming from his direction. His voice got louder, and then he took a large wooden paddle, with air holes (for speed), and swatted Pete with a loud crack. Pete started crying like a little girl, I felt so ashamed of him. Satisfied that he had hurt Pete enough, he turned his attention to me. He whacked me five times before he stopped, and I turned around and smiled at him. He swatted me again, this time above the kneecap. He told me that it was only a "Love Tap" and it should be a valuable lesson for me. I noticed a wadded up towel behind him on his desk.

Jack Butcher is the winningest high school basketball coach ever. They erected a sign in his honor in my home town of Loogootee, Indiana. They have similar looking signs here in Chicago, but they say things like "No Turn on Red." Recently I heard that he wrote a book about his experiences in life. Initially, I thought I heard that he had Read a book, which I would find even more astonishing. The basic difference is, I know that you can always have a book written "for" you. (see Jose Canseco) I decided that I needed to get my own copy, just to see if he could provide any insight to me on his behavior. I tried all the internet sites, but the answer came that the book was a "Vanity" book and was unavailable for purchase, he had paid for the publication out of his own pocket. What publishing firm in it's right mind would not leap to publish the biography of the winningest coach in high school basketball history?

In my small town there were two schools, a public, and a Catholic. The summer before my Junior year it became apparent that the Catholic school had some top-notch players on it's basketball team. The public school, coached by Butcher, was ok, but it could've been really good with the Catholics on board. Fate took a hand. Just weeks before the start of the school year, the Catholic school burned to the ground. It was decided that the schools be merged, and one great basketball team was born. The Loogootee Lions were unstoppable, they were a juggernaut. That year the little Cinderella team from a Podunk town in the hills of Martin County went all the way to the State Finals! It was just like in the movie "Hoosiers" only with arson.

The next year, I had another run-in with Coach. I had defied his plan to make the Senior boys sit in the back bleachers of the stadium for the ensuing season of basketball. We put together an anti-cheering squad that bought a block of seats on the opposing side of the gym. Every game, when they announced his name "And the coach for the Loogootee Lions, Jack Butcher!" We as a block would scream in unison "SUCKS!" We would then all sing the Mexican hat dance song, singing Tawna wanna wanana banana, while making the motions of 150 boys jerking off. By the time half the season was over the school staff had figured out what we were doing, and I was called into the office to be warned on behalf of the entire unit. As I stood there in his office, he looked small and weak, with his flat top haircut, and his corn yellow teeth. He told me again about the proper behavior a person needs to follow to be a success in life. Frankly, I mentally slept through the conversation. I nodded my head agreeably, shook his hand, and headed for the door. His paddle was nailed to the wall over his transom, now against school policy to be used. I couldn't help but notice the fur-lined jock strap hanging on the coat rack. I looked down at my hand, it was damp and sticky, "where did that come from?" I wondered. I began to whistle the Mexican hat dance song, and walked on down the hall.

I remain bitter and sad about, not only my run ins with the Coach, but with the non-existent level of education at Loogootee High. One thing I can take away from those pathetic 4 years is..Mr. Clean cleans up dirt and grime in only just a minute, Mr. Clean cleans your house and home and everything that's in it!