DDS:CB3 Mack Jones
They tell me I gotta block out swears. Fine. Expect a lotta block outs.
I had a rough life but I worked hard and I got through everything. Never caught a break neither.
I was born 44 years ago, in 1930. My mother was a street wh*re in Chicago during the Depression. She managed to keep me for a while but when I was eight one of her Johns beat her and me up so bad that we had to be put in the hospital. Well, they reported her to child services and I was taken away from her. That began a series of hellish placements you really don’t want to hear about. The sh*t that happened to me happens to a lotta kids in that situation, prob’ly most of ‘em.
What I had going for me was I was big, wide, and not stupid. I was a bad kid in school but I could do all the work, and bad as I was I usually did it. Even got a lotta As, and just about all the rest Bs except when the teacher was a real a$$h*le. Then I got Ds and Fs cuz f*ck him, or her.
When I was a h.s. freshman in 1944 I played football. I liked hittin’ people a lot but wasn’t all that crazy about the game and the military type stuff involved. Never liked that.
The basketball coach, Spike Martin, was the gym teacher and he had took a likin’ ta me early in the year. He wanted me ta try hoops so I did. I’d never even held a basketball in my hands. Still, Coach Martin didn’t cut me. He taught me- lotsa times keepin’ me for an hour after reg’ler practice. I played strictly j.v. my first year and committed about a foul a minute, but he kept workin’, and stayed positive. He was really the first guy that ever treated me right. I didn’t know how ta handle that. I had learned ta be cautious because sooner or later everybody turned on me, usually beat me up, raped me, or both until I got big enough ta fight 'em off. And hey, if ya can’t handle ugly truth it’s prob’ly best if you don’t read this.
Anyway Coach was smart enough ta never say anythin’ like, “Trust me.” I guess he knew I’d a run away from him if he did. But he never changed, never stopped bein’ patient, never stopped bein’ the best thing in my life. By my soph’more year I was not foulin’ as much but still too much but I was playin’ pretty good D, and reboundin’ even better. I knew how ta get inside position an’ I was so strong nobody could move me outta that position.
I couldn’t shoot an’ never really learned but I could make lay ups, esp. on put backs. Coach worked that for about a million hours. That’s all the scorin’ I needed.
Toward the end of that year I was playin’ a little varsity an’ holdin’ my own. Coach told me at the end of the season that I would be his startin’ varsity PF junior year. I kept my grades up an’ put up with a real a$$h*le history teacher name Trevani. He was a cut off, arrogant squirt, and he had that little man thing where he hated big guys an’ really went after ’em. Back in them days they could get away with that. He even had fist fights with a couple a the big football players. If you was big he hated you. An’ he was quick an’ a good fighter.
I didn’t do nothin’ to set him off an’ when he tried ta get me to, an’ man did he know how, I didn’t go for it, just said, “Yes sir” in my politest voice. I got through the class with nothing’ ugly happenin’. He gave me a C for doin’ A work an’ I just shut up and took it. Coach was helpin’ me stay cool all through this and when the class was over he told me how proud he was of me. That meant a lot even if I couldn’t deal with compliments.
I had found a decent family ta live with in high school. They didn’t really treat me bad at all compared to just about all the others and they told me they wanted ta keep me all the way through h.s. cuz they knew that was a good situation for me. I actu’lly still see them an’ they go to lotsa my games. I’m sure they will again in the new job, I'm glad it's right near 'em, an’ they’ll never pay fer a ticket. So okay maybe I did catch a couple breaks at that.
Junior year I did start at PF an’ I guess I done okay. I was named third team all state even only scorin’ 5.8 a game. I got 9.5 RBs though.
Senior year I done real good, 14.2 RBs, 9.8 points, and made the all state first team. I’ll always keep that trophy in my office.
University of Illinois and some other places scouted me. I got offers for full scholarships from a bunch a schools but I wanted ta stay not so far from Peoria so I went ta U. of Illinois. Plus, the head coach there I liked more than the other head coaches. My grades were good but they wanted me ta take two courses in the summer so I did. They said it would be a big adjustment an’ it was, but varsity athletes had mandatory study hall- I woulda studied anyways, an’ tutors, an’ all a that really helped me a lot. I figgered I’d wind up a gym teacher/coach like Coach Martin if I was lucky.
Oh, my mom. They let me see her from time ta time after they took me away but she had a real tough time. She wound up on heroin, and she died when I was a junior in h.s. But don’t never say nothin’ against her. She was still my mom an’ she loved me- more’n anybody else ever did. She just couldn’t do nothin’ for me cuz her life was so f*cked up. Never a clue who my father was, an’ she didn’t have any other kids so I don’t have a family.
So college was good. I ain’t the friendly type. They made me see head docs all the way through high school an’ they said I had trust issues- no sh*t! I wasn’t unfriendly but I went my own way. I was okay with college roommates but I didn’t hang out with ‘em. I just said, “Don’t give me sh*t I won’t give you sh*t.” It worked out. The last two years I roomed with the startin’ C for the team an’ he was a loner too.
I played a little as a soph, an’ started as a junior an’ senior. Never made any all star teams but I did okay.
I graduated an’ got a job teachin’ P.E. at Morton h.s. back in Peoria. I was way better with kids than grown ups an’ it was good. Stayed 10 years, won a lot a games, had a lot a kids that liked me an’ lots a them confided in me. I always made time. Let’s see, that brings us to 1962 an’ I was 32. That year Coach Jake Snow took me on as his assistant at Chicago. I stayed there for 12 years until I got the job I’m about ta tell ya about.
Oh, girls. Well, there were a few but I didn’t know how ta act an’ nothin’ ever lasted very long. I could never go ta a wh*re, because a my mom, so- well, enough about that. I lived alone all these years. It’s okay. It’s safe an’ it’s easy. I cook a little but mostly eat out, an’ my apartment’s a mess but I seen worse.
Okay, after 5 years at Chicago I was ready ta be a head coach an’ I shoulda been one WAY before now. Maybe because I’m so rough around the edges I didn’t impress nobody in interviews but d*mmit they shoulda seen how good I was with kids an’ how well I knew the game, and how good my references were. I got rejected for over 100 head coaching jobs I applied for.
Finally, in March Peoria fired their coach. I actu’lly got an interview. It was down ta two of us. I got the second interview. I read the next day that the other guy accepted a job at another school. I waited a whole week before Peoria finally called.
The A. D., Harry Bates, said, “Mack, if ya still want the job come on down and sign a contract.”
Great! Sounded like he was sorry. I found out he wanted ta reopen the search but the university said they spent enough. Just hire me. If I didn’t work out they’d dump me after the first year even though I signed for 3, at a salary that seemed huge to me.
It wasn’t, they got me on the cheap, but it was way more than I needed, an’ I knew I’d save most of it. I’m real serious about that. I don’t ever want ta end up a bum. As soon as it makes sense I’ll buy a little house somewhere cuz that’s the way ta have somethin’. I look inta stocks an’ bonds an’ stuff an’ put money there too.
Okay, here I am. I’ll tell it right from day one, May 1.