Namaste

Goat Yoga more than just a craze for Springville couple and their farm

Story by Carol Pappas

Photos by Kelsey Bain

Make the turn off Springville’s Shanghai Road into CareDan Farm and it’s as if you have entered a magical world where animals rule, and the rest of us are lucky enough to be part if it – if only for a day.

The gang’s all there: Nigerian Dwarf goats Charlotte, Rose, Rosebud, twins Spur and Kid Rock and two new babies, Peanut and Cashew. There’s Rooster and Daisy, the horses, of course, and a lovable pig named Pancake. Talk about free range, the chickens meander around these parts to their hearts’ content while ducks splash playfully in a nearby puddle.

It’s just another day at the farm for them, but for those arriving by the carload, it’s an experience they won’t soon forget.

And that’s precisely the point, say Danny and Caren Davidson, who open up their Springville farm to young and old, friends, family and strangers from near and far, curious about a thing called goat yoga.

“It’s fun when people come out and do things they don’t typically do,” says Caren, who calls their fledgling business, My Farm Day, the perfect moniker, adds Danny. “Whether it’s fishing, riding horses, playing with the goats, we wanted people to have a ‘my farm day’ for them.”

Their first venture in providing that personalized farm experience is a craze sweeping the country, goat yoga. And on a summer Saturday morning, the rain didn’t seem to dampen the spirit of the day. Quite the opposite. Guests headed to the barn for shelter, where yoga mats and a menagerie of four-legged hosts awaited.

Certified yoga instructor Nancy Hunter of Springville explains her foray into today’s goat variety of this ancient practice. Caren had seen a post on Facebook about Nancy’s Yoga classes in Springville and at her studio in Oneonta.

Caren called and asked if she would be interested in teaching Yoga with goats, and Nancy said ‘Yes, I’m game. I’ll try it.’

“Caren is so amazing,” Nancy says. “These are her children,” she adds, motioning to the goats – old and new – the horses nearby, the baby chicks just introduced into the class (much to the delight of its students) and a host of other animals making up the zoo-like atmosphere.

In the beginning …

 It wasn’t always like this – a farm couple just working and sharing the land. They were from the big city.

But her grandparents had a farm in Tennessee when she was growing up. “I fell in love with the farm and the animals.” Charlotte, one of the goats, is named for her grandmother.

Danny and Caren grew up in Vestavia Hills and graduated from Vestavia High, dated at Ole Miss and married.

He served in the Army in San Antonio for a few years, and they moved back to Alabama when he finished service.

They bought property across from Matthews Manor and lived there for nine years in Argo. “I love to be outdoors,” Caren says. “He loves to build stuff. We moved in with some dogs and within a year, we added horses and a couple of more dogs. Our dream was more land and more animals.”

They found what they were looking for – the house with 69 acres bordering Little Canoe Creek – in Springville. “When we pulled in the driveway, four chicks came running out to meet us,” Caren recalls. “I thought, ‘I’m sold. This is awesome.’”

“We bought a tractor and few other things, and that’s how we got here.”

By day, Danny is about to begin a new job teaching Algebra at Moody High School. Caren is director of human resources at a Birmingham law firm.

“Because we grew up in the city, we didn’t know much about farm life. Fortunately, we’ve had some great neighbors and friends who have taught us a lot about barn and fence building, drainage, pond maintenance, etc.,” Caren explains. 

“What we didn’t learn from them, we learned from books or YouTube. Our master shower is frequently turned into an infirmary for injured chickens and ducks. We continue to learn most everything the hard way, but because it’s just the two of us, we have a lot of fun living the ‘farm life,’ which is a big departure from our ‘regular life.’” 

The Davidsons don’t have children, but they have a very close family with lots of cousins, nieces, nephews who enjoy ‘Farm Days’ at Uncle Danny and Aunt Caren’s farm, hence the name, CareDan Farm. “Farm Days,” she says, “consist of riding horses, playing in the creek, fishing, gathering eggs from the coop, riding 4-wheelers, Gator rides, canoeing, hitting floating golf balls into the pond and whatever other activities Danny dreams up. Evenings on the farm generally involve more fishing, campfires, watching football and listening to music on the back porch.”

On the farm, Danny’s job at first was that of goat wrangler. He is self-proclaimed “head goat wrangler,” and has a name tag to prove it.

He’s the one always bringing home the goats. She’s more practical. The night before this class, he brought home two more without telling her. But she couldn’t resist, it was easy to see, as she held them like babies, bottle fed them and sported a never-ending smile as they frolicked among the yoga guests in the barn.

The driving force

The genesis of this day, where smiles, laughter and squeals of excitement are quickly becoming tradition, came from an unlikely source – a tragedy involving Caren’s father, Dr. Cary Petry. He had suffered from depression and anxiety for years and sadly took his own life in 2017.

“The couple of years leading up to that event were quite stressful, as I tried to provide my dad with encouragement, support and different treatment options. After his death, I found myself just going through the motions most weeks. I’d spend all my energy during the week trying to do my job, and I’d use the weekends on our farm for quiet time in hopes of recharging for the next week. Being outdoors, surrounded by all of God’s amazing creations, was the medicine I needed, but it was still just a repetitious cycle week after week.”  

On a Sunday morning a year ago, her mother called as Danny and Caren were walking out the door to church. “She told me to turn on the news because there was a story coming on about a lady in Oregon who held goat yoga classes on her farm. I watched the story and couldn’t stop thinking about the satisfaction she had gained by sharing her farm and love for goats with others. I wondered if I could regain some happiness, and perhaps help others, by sharing my farm and animals with others.”  

When she took the next step and called Nancy, “Surprisingly, Nancy had actually participated in a goat yoga class and was eager to try teaching one. So, for my 46th birthday, I invited a few close friends and family to attend a goat yoga birthday party at the farm. I figured they wouldn’t turn me down since it was my birthday. I had never done yoga before, but I was excited to combine so many things I love into one activity – friends, family, animals, outdoors and some much-needed exercise.

“The goats kept escaping the temporary fence we had hastily put up and didn’t seem too interested in the yoga, but it was fun nonetheless.”

They experimented with two more classes that fall before deciding to get serious about it. “Well, as serious as you can get about goat yoga,” Caren adds. “I felt like goat yoga was the perfect way for me to share our farm with other people who may be in need of some laughter and a break from their stressful lives.”  

Where there’s a will …

“In January 2019, our two goat mommas, Charlotte and Rose, had three kids: Spur, Kid Rock and Rosebud. And in March, My Farm Day hosted its first official goat yoga class with our five goats.  Since then, we’ve had classes nearly every Saturday morning.”  Classes are limited to 12 people because the goat to human ratio is critical to participant’s enjoyment of the activity.  

With the emotions of her father’s passing still fresh, “I got excited about it. It was something we could focus on and find a way to let other people enjoy the farm. It’s a different concept. It’s silly. It lets you forget about all your troubles for a while. Life is tough. If you can take a few minutes to do something you don’t always do, that’s fun.”

She talks of mental health issues as an epidemic facing the country and sees the farm as a means of coping. “It’s hard to get the help you need. I want to help people laugh. That makes me happy.”

The years leading up to her father’s death “were really rough for us. Every weekend, I would be here and recharge. It made me feel better to be with the animals.”

Her father was an animal lover and when he was at the farm with his dog, Rowdy, his rare smile would appear and is a memory she savors. It is also a memory that sparked the adventure Caren and Danny are now on. And Rowdy now acts as greeter, escorting guests up and down the drive.

What’s in a name

They decided to name the business “My Farm Day” with the idea that “everyone needed ‘their’ day on the farm, just like when we had family out for impromptu farm days. We figured we’d start My Farm Day with a little goat yoga, and maybe later, expand it to include other activities like fly-fishing lessons, barnyard parties, etc.,” she explains. 

Goat yoga is the first real leg of that journey. And so far, the reviews have visitors coming back for more.

As the class gets under way on this particular Saturday, Caren and Danny place the newest baby goats on the backs of the participants who could hardly stifle non-stop giggles with the little ones prancing around, eventually leaping off as if the back were a high dive.

The newest goat crew will make their debut in yoga class in a few months. They are partial to crawling atop a human back or two or across their stomach as they lie motionless except for the full body stretch they are attempting.

“The older goats now are like teenagers. They have a mind of their own,” Danny said as the older goats wandered around the yoga class, going underneath, over and around outstretched bodies, occasionally pausing for a snack of hedges and vines nearby. Most did manage a snuggle or two with their human guests, enticing more than a few pets, hugs and rubs behind the ear from them.

One family arrived as part of a surprise for Jimmy Waldrop for Father’s Day. “He loves goats, but we live in the city limits (of Hueytown), and we can’t have them,” said Waldrop’s wife, Dana. He had mentioned he wanted to start yoga, and when she saw My Farm Day’s goat yoga, “it was perfect.”

Waldrop, a nurse at UAB, enjoyed his Father’s Day surprise outing. “I like getting out in a farm atmosphere, and I like goats. I don’t know why, I just do.”

Lana Clayton of Ashville is a return guest. “I fell in love with it, and I came back again and again.”

Farm living is the life for them

“Danny and I have had so much fun and met so many wonderful people during goat yoga classes.  We love it because it allows us to spend time outdoors together, with our animals, while sharing our love of nature with others,” Caren concludes. 

“People who don’t typically interact with farm animals, get a small dose of farm life, while getting in some terrific stretching and exercise. Nancy loves teaching the class because it introduces yoga to people who may not otherwise try a yoga class in a traditional setting.”  

Participants are encouraged to laugh and take pictures throughout class. “As we say, ‘It’s a little bit of yoga and a whole lot of goat.’” 

After class Caren and Danny help people pose for pictures with the goats. “Sometimes we have chickens join the class, and our pig, Pancake, has been known to shove her way in to the ‘yoga studio’ for a little attention. Every class is different, so it’s fun ‘work’ for us.”

Underneath a sign that appropriately says, Attitude is everything. Pick a good one, a table of wares displays Caren-designed goat yoga t-shirts and hats. Even the fresh eggs they sell have their own stamp on it – Laid With Love – a creation by Danny.

 “But it’s not about making money,” Caren says, “it’s about giving people an experience that’s a break from ‘normal’ life.” As one participant told her, “I found today that baby goats are the cure for nearly anything.”

So, what’s next for this farm-loving, farm-sharing couple? “It is our goal to later, when we retire, use our farm in ways to help people who are hurting,” Caren said. “Goat yoga is just our first baby step.”  

Editor’s note: More information about the farm and goat yoga is at myfarmday.com.

Ryder Carpenetti

Moody’s rising rodeo star

Story by Paul South
Submitted photos

Truth be told, the closest most of us have come to mounting a bucking bull was as a kid on the 25-cent-powered horses at the local five and dime, watching John Travolta in “Urban Cowboy” in college,  or worst-case, when  liquid courage in a shot glass convinced usually sensible adults that they could tame the mechanical bull at the neighborhood cowboy bar.

But the miniature bulls that Moody’s Ryder Carpenetti takes on in rodeos from North Carolina to Las Vegas are the real deal – 1,200 pounds of thick muscle and foul mood that are as unpredictable as it gets. These animals can with a buck, or spin or dip send their riders into the air like a rag doll, leaving them with a face full of mud, bumps and bruises – or worse.

But Carpenetti has captured three world titles riding miniature bucking horses and half-ton bulls.

He’s 4-foot-6, weighs 71 pounds and still has some of his baby teeth. And he’s only turned 12 years old in September.

As John Wayne might put it: Pilgrim, this is one tough little hombre.

It all started with a bulletin board. Ryder’s Dad, Frankie Carpenetti, remembers.

“He was 3 years old. I saw a flier at a Tractor Supply down in Sterrett, and they had ‘mutton bustin,’ you know, where they ride the sheep. I said, ‘I’ll take him down there and let him ride in that. Maybe he’ll ride in that, and then he’ll be done with it.”

Ryder won. And he wasn’t done. Turns out, the sport had lassoed the toddler. From there it was riding his first calf at 5, then steers to junior bulls to mini-bulls. In 2013, he won his first world title in mutton busting. In 2015, he captured world titles in bucking horses and mini bulls.

Watch Ryder Carpenetti on YouTube and you see a kid as cool as the backside of a pillow. He has a quick grin that gleams from beneath the long shadow cast by his big, black cowboy hat. While waiting for his next ride, he waits quietly. His demeanor seems more school play backstage than bull rider.

Once his protective gear is on – a helmet and vest mandated by the MBR (Mini Bull Riders Association) – he’s unflappable.

“He really doesn’t have any fear,” Frankie Carpenetti says.

“We have dirt bikes at the house, and he does jumps and all that. When he gets on the back of the bucking chutes, a lot of the kids are nervous. You can tell. We always have people say, ‘How’s he so calm?’ He just sits on the back of the bucking chutes and waits his turn. Nothing bothers him. He’ll find my wife in the crowd, and he’ll wave to her. The other kids, they’re back there shaking and stuff.”

Carpenetti added, “There’s times when I’m a little more nervous than he is. We go to a lot of big deals. The PBRs (Professional Bull Riders), the Built Ford Toughs (rodeos), you know. I guess I get a lot more nervous than he does sometimes. I guess my nervousness would be him getting hurt. He’s pulled the tendons out in his elbow a couple of times, aside from the normal bumps and bruises.

“But nothing bothers him. He’s in his own world right there. He’s getting ready to ride,” Frankie Carpenetti said. “He’s in his own zone. He just gets in there and rides”

Like any mother, April Carpenetti had the jitters, too. But now, her worries aren’t as great as when he plays youth football in Moody, as a running back and defensive back. On a recent Saturday, Ryder played a half day of football, then was on the road for a rodeo in Bessemer City, N.C.

“Any mom would be terrified,” she says. “But it’s just like anything. The more they do it, the more I feel comfortable. He had to move up in (weight class) in football. Right now, I worry more about him playing against bigger kids in football than I do about him rodeoing. I guess it’s just something he’s been doing so long that I’m comfortable with him doing it.”

At only 12, Carpenetti has drawn comparisons to the late Lane Frost. Frost, who won the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association (PRCA) Bull Riding World Championship in 1987 when he was just 24, was killed in the arena in 1989. To this day, long after his death, Frost casts an almost mythic shadow over the sport.

Gary Leffew, a member of the Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame and the 1970 National Finals Rodeo champion, is Carpenetti’s coach. He believes the comparison to Frost is on target.

“He’ll go wherever he wants to go,” Leffew said. “He’ll either be in the PBR or the PRCA. He’ll be in there somewhere where he’s a star. He’s like a young Lane Frost. He’s charismatic. People are going to know his name, wherever he decides to go.”

Leffew’s career offers a backstory to Ryder Carpenetti’s championship ride. Leffew is called “the rodeo guru” of positive thinking. Leffew finished 10th in the world in 1966, then hit a slump. As a new husband, soon with a baby on the way, Leffew worried more about making a paycheck than setting goals and visualizing how life could be for him and his family if he won. Worry beat down on him like a July Texas sun.

Then he read Maxwell Maltz’s 1960 bestseller – “Psycho-Cybernetics.” His thinking – and his career – took a turn

“Once I read that book, I just sat up in bed and laughed,” Leffew says. “I was 22 years old, and it was the first time anyone had explained to me how the mind works and that it can work for you or against you. (The mind) doesn’t care, it’s a piece of machinery. Whatever you program in, it will take and give it back to you. I realized I was a victim of my own thinking.”

Leffew also studied the style and technique of George Paul, who Leffew calls “the greatest bull rider I ever saw.” Paul, who tragically died in a plane crash in 1970, rode 79 consecutive bulls without being thrown. Paul was considered “the strongest man ever to ride bulls in professional rodeo.”

Studying Paul and diving into the workings of the subconscious mind, transformed Leffew’s career.

“That next year, I was third in the world. I rode the Bull of the Year his last ride. I came out in 1970 and won the world title and the National Finals Rodeo. Once I got into positive thinking, it took me three years to reach my goal of the world championship,” Leffew said. “During that period, I was no lower than third.”

And those who were skeptical of his positive thinking approach started to come around.

“(Early on), there was a lot of laughing. The first rodeo I went to at Denver in 1968, I was one point from the all-time record – 89 points – on a bull that had never been rode. I rode him like Patton for a dance. I was runner up for the championship. I went three months without getting thrown off. They were like, ‘This kid’s on to something’ They’d come around and ask, ‘What page was that on?’”

Now, Carpenetti is part of a stable of star pupils who have embraced Leffew’s power-of-positive-thinking approach. Leffew has mentored 19 world champions.

“What we teach is hyper body, quiet mind. Your heart will be pounding, your adrenaline will be running, which is good, but you want a quiet mind. A quiet mind operates at the speed of light. It processes a billion pieces of information per second. A hyper mind works a second at a time. You’d think a hyper mind works faster. It just screws things up. There’s no continuity, no timing, no flow. So, you have to get in a quiet mind state. You just focus much better.”

Carpenetti has that laser focus. Like other St. Clair County athletes, like Springville’s Casey Mize, the first pick in last summer’s major league baseball draft, and Odenville’s Dee Ford of the NFL’s Kansas City Chiefs, Ryder has a dream.

“He wants to do bigger things,” April Carpenetti says. “We don’t make him go to any rodeos. We’ll be in the car on Friday afternoon after school, drive 12 hours to Dallas for a Saturday rodeo and drive back on Sunday to keep his points up.”

Therein is another part of the story. No competitor in any sport reaches a high level without a support system. Last year, the Carpenettis rolled up 56,000 miles traveling the rodeo circuit. And Ryder’s sister, Harley, a student at Moody Junior High, is a competitive cheerleader on a Birmingham-based squad. It’s not unusual for Ryder and his Dad to be traveling in one direction, April and Harley, 13, off in another.

A quick note: Before taking her talent in another direction, Harley Carpenetti excelled as a barrel racer, another competitive rodeo sport.

“We’re all over the place,” Frankie Carpenetti says.

Both Leffew and Frankie Carpenetti praised the young rider’s work ethic.

“He’s got persistence. He’s got goals set. He’s got a great support system. He’s got everything he needs to be a superstar. He’s a very focused young man and he’s a talented young rider. But he’s a gentleman. That’s one of the things we try to teach our kids. You can’t be too polite,” Leffew says. “You want to think about other people. You don’t want them to just say he’s a good rider, but that he’s a good young man, a role model for everybody who comes behind you. People don’t just judge you on how good you ride, but what kind of human being you are. Integrity.”

Says Frankie Carpenetti: “He’s just a humble kid. He doesn’t boast about anything he wins. You know he can go out there and win the world championship. He’s not out there boasting. He’s just as happy for the other kid who beats him one day. He’s just as happy for the kid who won the rodeo as he would be for himself. His sportsmanship is what makes me the proudest,” he says. “A kid can be bucked off and get mad and throw their helmet or something, and he’ll go back to the back and try to figure out what he did wrong. Then a few minutes later, he’s back to himself, out playing or whatever. That’s what makes me proud. And he’s got a real good work ethic. He’s up in the morning wanting to go ride the bulls.”

That integrity, that gentlemanly spirit, has captured the attention of corporate sponsors. The Lane Frost brand, owned by the late champion’s family, backs Ryder, as does Rodeo King hats, 100X helmets, Capri Campers, Flying P Farms and of course, Carpenetti’s Pizza, owned by Ryder’s grandfather, Frank Sr., and the family.

And Ryder and his family have also won the respect of Cirildo “Junior” Leal and his wife Lilly, who along with two-time Professional Bull Riding (PBR) champion Chris Shivers, own the Mini Bull Riders.

Born in 2010, the MBR began with 120 kids in Ogden, Utah, and has grown to an international sport, attracting competitors from Brazil, Canada, Australia and the United States. Kids ages 8 to 14 compete in the events, which emphasize safety, respect, sportsmanship and building confidence. Venues have included AT&T Stadium in Dallas, the Mandalay Bay Casino in Las Vegas and elsewhere. In 2015, Professional Bull Riders became a presenting sponsor of the Miniature Bull Riders Association.

Junior Leal sports a bushy handlebar moustache and bears a striking resemblance to country singer Freddy Fender. He’s quick with a laugh. As the father of six daughters, he jokes “I’ve already got my ticket to heaven. I raised six girls.” And, it seems he and his wife Lilly have hundreds of sons – the bull riders like Ryder, who the website proclaims, are “the toughest little cowboys on the planet.”

Leffew calls MBR and its competitors “the future of the game.”

Cirildo Leal, whose day job is raising mini bulls and daily delivering feed for 200,000 head of cattle to ranchers from his home in Lockney, Texas, sees a world title or a National Finals Rodeo crown in Ryder’s future. For the Leals, Cirildo, Lilly and daughter Alysa – a family of faith – the MBR is a labor of love.

“He’ll be a PBR world champion or an NFR world champion … because he’s just got a lot of potential, and his parents really support him and take him, and the kid doesn’t give up. Sometimes he might get trampled on, but he just gets up, shakes it off and goes on. And he’s ready to ride again.”

Lilly Leal agrees. “Ryder is a super good kid. He’s always been super good. What you see with him is what you get. Ryder gets on a bull, and he’s businesslike, ‘Come on, I gotta do what I gotta do.’ ”

She adds, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ryder cry. Like I said, he’s tough, and he’s got super good parents and grandparents, all of his family.”

Ryder also has fans close to home, like Pell City steel executive John Garrison, a longtime fan of rodeo. He believes the sport is part of the “great Western experience” that helped make America great.

For Garrison, seeing young people like Ryder Carpenetti excel is an encouragement. Garrison studies different generations. Kids like Ryder give Garrison – a Baby Boomer – hope for the future. “Any time I see a young person that’s doing something special, I have a tendency to take particular notice of that young person because they’re doing something outside the norm. I think Ryder Carpenetti and Harley, his sister, are doing positive things. Ryder is making a mark in the rodeo world.”

Predictions of future greatness for Ryder are “spot on,” Garrison says.

“A young person who starts in that kind of sport, it’s remarkable that he comes from Alabama … a state not known for rodeo greats. That a young kid from Alabama can go out there and compete is just over-the-top amazing.”

He adds: “It’s a dangerous sport, and you get banged up now and then. He’s no doubt a tough kid and a hard competitor. As long as he stays healthy, I think he’s unstoppable.”

Talk to Ryder, and you hear the competitive fire of a cowboy who successfully rode all four bulls on the way to the 2015 world title at the Chris Shivers Bull Riding. But you also hear the heart of an 11-year-old kid, who likes to play Fortnite, ride dirt bikes, to play with the animals at the family home and who giggles at the names of some of the bulls he’s ridden, like “Butthead.”

 The reason he rides?

“It’s fun,” Ryder says. “I have a lot of friends that ride. When you get a good score, you win.”

And as the adults in this story have said, he is fearless.

“It’s fun to me. When I’m doing something fun, I don’t get nervous or anything.”

It’s important to note, too, that Ryder is an A-student. His lowest grade at the end of the last school year was a 96.5.

And as most kids will, he makes the complex – like riding a half-ton bull – a simple thing.

“You gotta stay on the front end,” he says. “Don’t lose your feet and keep your hand shut. I ride with my left hand shut and my right hand up. You can’t tell what a bull’s going to do. But when they open the gate, you have to stay on for a full eight seconds.”

When asked, he’ll talk about his world titles and the 50 bright belt buckles he’s won in competitive rodeo. And he’ll say he wants to win a PBR world title one day He says his world titles “mean a lot.”

 But while some talk about his boundless future. Ryder Carpenetti hangs his big, black hat on humility, like most kids his age would do.

“I don’t really care if I win. I’m happy if I ride for the full eight seconds.”

Somewhere, Lane Frost, the rodeo legend, is smiling. l

 

Casey Mize

Springville’s $7.5 million man

Story by Paul South
Photos by Wade Rackley – Auburn Athletics
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.
Submitted photos

In more than 40 years of covering Auburn athletics, Mark Murphy has seen arguably the best pitchers in Tiger baseball history – former Los Angeles Dodger Joe Beckwith, former American League Rookie of the Year Gregg Olson, former Oakland and Atlanta star Tim Hudson.

And Springville’s Casey Mize may be the next on the list. The Detroit Tigers think he will be. As even those with a casual interest in baseball know, Mize was the first overall pick in the June baseball draft, signing a contract with the Tigers, which includes a $7.5-million signing bonus, the second-largest in the history of the game.

With apologies to Lionel Richie, Mize’s journey from Springville to Auburn to Detroit makes him once, twice, three times a Tiger.

Like Olson and Hudson, Mize is a fierce competitor with a wicked fastball and a command of pitches that makes great hitters swing, miss and return to the dugout with astonishing frequency.

Auburn’s Plainsman Park teemed with big league scouts the past two seasons, armed with hand-held radar to clock Mize’s pitches. It looked like the baseball version of troopers on the interstate on a holiday weekend

“There were more scouts than I’ve seen in a long time,” Murphy said. But as he put it, “Guys like Casey don’t come along very often.”

Baseball is a game steeped in numbers – miles per hour, earned run and batting averages, strikeout-to-walk ratios are a few. But to be the top draft pick – The Guy – how does that happen?

Talk to his parents, coaches, sportswriters and former major leaguers, three traits rise to the top when it comes to considering what makes Casey Mize tick.

Submitted for your approval, consider the three Cs of Casey: Commitment, Command. Character.

 

Commitment

The stories of Casey Mize’s passion for the game of baseball come from every direction – from his family, from coaches, from family friends. Here are a few:

When he was 7, Mize made an announcement to his Mom, Rhonda, that he was going to go to Auburn and play baseball when he grew up.

At 11, while most of his friends were engrossed in Xboxes and PlayStations, Mize offered another word for his mother.

“He actually told his mother, ‘Mom, I’m gonna want one, but whatever you do, don’t ever buy me a PlayStation or Xbox. That’s going to take up too much of my time.’”

And in high school summers, he and his parents often made the six-hour roundtrip for him to play travel ball for Chris McRaney and Team Georgia Baseball Academy in Alpharetta. When a Springville friend’s Mom asked why he didn’t want to play with his friends locally, Mize was respectful, but matter-of fact.

“Miss Melissa, I have to look after my future,” he said.

“We’re thinking the other parents probably think we’re crazy, that we were putting this stuff into him,” Dad Jason Mize said. “But we never did. We were just the facilitators for his dreams and his goals. That’s the way we’ve looked at it. Both of our kids, whatever their dreams were, if they put in the work toward it, we provided them whatever they needed, just to make it happen.”

In fact, like other parents who had to get their kids to power down the gaming system, the Mizes had to coax their son to take a break from ball.

“There was never that burnout or anything like that. Rhonda and I would discuss it, and we had to make him stop playing. We had to make sure he got that rest time that he needed,” Jason Mize said. “But he never wanted to stop. He was passionate about it. He was always playing it. He loved even the camaraderie of it. He loved being around those likeminded kids.”

The desire carried on to Springville High, where he played for Coach Jonathan Ford. Mize was 19-2 in his Springville Tiger career. He was the first SHS player drafted since Brandon Moore (also an Auburn alum) was drafted in the early 1990s.

Like all his coaches, Ford could not have foreseen all that would transpire for his ace. But he saw something special, including the unquenchable blue flame, a drive to be great.

“He had some of the intangibles you look for in all your players. First, he had a head for the game. He really understood how to play the game. Then, the second thing he had was a desire. I mean he had a desire to be great. Third was the ability he had. When you put the three together, understanding, desire and ability, I had that expectation wherever he went, he was going to be successful.”

 

Command

ESPN college baseball analyst Ben McDonald is in a unique spot in relation to Casey Mize. Like him, McDonald was the first overall pick in the draft (1989 from LSU). McDonald pitched with Olson in Baltimore and against Hudson. On a rainy day in May before Mize’s SEC Tournament start against Texas A&M, McDonald turned to some of Mize’s stats in strikeout to walk ratio.

“[F]or the last two years, he has a 13-to-1 strikeout to walk ratio. He’s walked 19 guys in two years and punched out 242. For me, that’s what separates him from most. He’s going to be a fast climber in the big leagues.”

McDonald added, “He has command of four pitches he can throw for a strike whenever he wants to throw them. That’s what separates the minor league pitchers from big league pitchers. Can you command the stuff you have? Not only can you throw a strike, but can you throw a quality strike? Casey . . . when you watch him pitch, and he’s on his game, he never throws anything in the center part of the plate. It’s a plus fastball up to 96 (mph). He’s got a good slider, a split finger fastball, and he’s got a cut fastball which is something new that he uses. That’s what I like about him, too. He keeps evolving. Last year, he was a three-pitch pitcher and didn’t have the cut fastball. This year, he’s added a cut fastball to go with the other three pitches he has. That’s what separates him from the rest. By far, he’s the best player in the country.”

Even a month before the draft, McDonald predicted Mize would be the top pick.

“He’s so advanced. What makes him advanced is that he commands his better than Olson did. I played with Olson in Baltimore and I played against Tim Hudson. This kid to me is even better. Olson had two pitches; Hudson had three. This kid has four quality pitches. And what I like about him, too, is that he calls his own game. He’s studying hitters already. He’s got a big-league approach already, and he has a big-league workout between starts, too.”

Scott Foxhall, now the pitching coach at North Carolina State, served in the same role at Auburn and recruited Mize to the Tigers. Mize’s strength as a pitcher – that earned him All-American honors and made him a finalist for college baseball’s highest individual award, the Golden Spike – is part God-given, part blue collar work ethic.

“I think its nature and nurture. You can tell he’s born with a lot of athleticism, and he’s gifted in that sense,” Foxhall said. “You can tell he’s spent an enormous amount of time paying attention to the right way to do things and just repeating them.”

The two reconnected when Auburn traveled to Raleigh for the NCAA Regionals.

“I watched him just for fun while he was here because they were here for four days. I watched him playing catch, even when it was a casual game of catch, you could tell that it was a sense of urgency with him that he was paying attention to every little thing that he was doing and paying attention to where the ball was going and going where he wanted it to go,” Foxhall said. “He was making adjustments with every throw, just when he was paying catch in the outfield. It’s all about attention to detail and God-given ability.”

Like every great ballplayer, Mize has also invested time in learning from others. Former Auburn teammate Keegan Thompson took the young hurler under his wing as workout partner and throwing partner. Baseball requires players to be human computers, processing a barrage of information and filtering what works for them. With every pitch, hurlers must process grasp of the ball, leg lift, arm motion, location, release point and on and on.

“Keegan helped him understand about pitching,” Foxhall said. “Every great pitcher is picking everyone’s brain and has to have the right filter to figure out what – of all that information – will help him. Casey’s got the right processor in his head to find out what will help him … That might be one of his strongest qualities.”

Auburn’s Butch Thompson has sent seven pitchers to the major leagues. From the first day he met Casey Mize, he saw something special.

“I knew he had talent. I knew he had a future. But I don’t think anybody would have expected this.”

As a freshman, Mize had a solid fastball and a good slider and worked out of the bullpen and as a spot starter for the Tigers. The next year, he added a split-finger changeup to his repertoire of pitches. There, the young hurler began to blossom.

“The biggest thing year two was his commitment to shove the ball into the strike zone. He was trying to end the at-bat on every pitch, so his command between his freshman and sophomore year grew like crazy, and he added a third pitch. The third thing that helped was Keegan Thompson (the Tigers Friday night starter).”

“(On Friday nights), Casey would sit, chart and watch the game that Keegan was pitching, and I think Keegan was such a professional, Casey watched, and they built an unbelievable relationship. I think Casey’s work ethic picked up, his command picked up, and he didn’t just pick up a split change, he picked up arguably the best pitch in college baseball,” Coach Thompson said. “Keegan was a huge piece.”

The sophomore season was a turning point.

“He had the opportunity to represent our country and pitched seven innings of shutout ball. I think heading into year three, he said to himself, ‘I know my body, I know how to work. I need to galvanize my own routine. I’m going to really figure out how to take care of my body and get my arm in the best shape of its life.’ He did that.”

And in January of 2018, Mize unveiled a fourth pitch, the cut fastball, that he could throw 90-plus mph.

“When he came with that fourth pitch, it scared me to death. I wondered, ‘Why does he need a fourth pitch?’, Coach Thompson said. “He just cares about his craft. He started thinking, ‘I’ve got a future at this’. . .He’s just a lifelong learner.”

 

Character

Mize’s first start of the 2018 SEC Tournament was tough, a 4-2 loss to Texas A&M on a sticky-humid night in Hoover. After the game, he was asked if there was anything good he could take from the game.

“Nothing,” he said, “I didn’t pitch well.”

When asked about the Tigers’ struggle to produce runs, Mize again shouldered the blame.

“They did the best they could against a great pitcher,” Mize said. “I didn’t do my job.”

Those quick quotes speak volumes. In an ESPN age that has created the “Me” athlete, Mize puts team, family and friends first.

“That’s what attracted me the most to him when I met him and during the short recruiting process – that I didn’t think I was missing on character,” Foxhall said. “I knew I couldn’t miss on character. When you have character, and you have talent, those are the guys who have a chance to be elite. That’s what he is.”

Coach Thompson agrees. He has seen that high character time and time again. And as Keegan Thompson mentored him, Mize mentored young Tiger Tanner Burns, who in early July was named to the USA Baseball Collegiate National Team, following in his mentor’s footsteps.

“You can’t be the first overall pick unless you have a certain level of skill,” Coach Thompson said. “But (Casey’s) really learned how to work. He learned how to focus on his craft. He’s a great teammate. He gives others credit. You know he told his Mom when he was seven years old he wanted to be an Auburn Tiger. And then he winds up doing everything he sought after. Casey, he’s only going to be part of our team for three years. But he’ll always be part of Auburn, he’s going to give back to Auburn, and Auburn is going to have its doors open to him for the rest of his life.”

When Coach Thompson assumed the reigns of Auburn baseball, the program was in shambles. By 2018, the Tigers were nationally ranked, within an eyelash of the College World Series

“You can have a good team when your best players have your best character, your best work ethic. That goes a long way,” he said. “You know, we have a rule: You’re not allowed to pass the buck, and when your best players have that kind of character and when your best player has an off night and doesn’t pass the buck, that resonates with the entire organization. When it comes from your best player, it means more.

“Whatever we were trying to teach, (Casey) put it into practice. That molded everybody else to be wired the same.”

Talk to those who know Casey Mize, and they talk about how he has friends from all walks of life, jocks and computer wizards, folks who eat, sleep and breathe baseball to those who don’t know how many innings are in a game. It’s been that way since Springville.

“Some people have the gift to be really likeable,” Coach Thompson said. “And when you value everybody, it doesn’t matter whether they’re at the top of the food chain or at the bottom or in the middle.

“When you respect everybody from every walk of life,” he explained, “that allows you to connect with many. Casey’s got that tool, where he values every single person he comes in contact with. That makes you pretty likeable, and that allows you to connect with a lot of people. And that means when you do something really special, that means that a lot of people are going to give you a lot of respect and are going to pull for you.”

Mark Murphy recounted a story that proves the coach’s point. In right field at Plainsman Park, there is a spot known as ‘the K-Corner.” For years, diehard Auburn baseball fans mark each Tiger pitcher’s strikeout with a bright, bold, orange “K,” scorebook language for a strikeout.

At the end of each senior pitcher’s Auburn career, he’s awarded one of the “K”s, a simple honor, but a powerful symbol of gratitude.

On a warm spring day when Casey Mize fanned school record 15 Vanderbilt hitters, the K-Corner broke with tradition.

“They gave Casey a “K”, even though he was only a junior,” Murphy said. “That was pretty cool.”

Mize’s caring for others runs deep, Coach Thompson said.

“He cares about others a ton. That’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. He’s going to be an unbelievable leader. He’s going to be an unbelievable teammate. I believe that’s going to make him an unbelievable husband and father, because he cares about others so much. But he takes so much on himself because he doesn’t want to disappoint his family, his coaches, teammates and friends.”

Jason Mize summed up his son’s approach to life.

“It’s simple. He’s not one of those kids who wants to be in the spotlight, or put himself out there. He loves baseball and wants to do his job. But he’s not one seeking attention. He’s a good guy, very, very humble. He’s unbelievably driven. I’ve never seen that kind of drive in a kid his age. I’ve never seen that kind of focus in a kid his age, and I know they’re out there who are right there with him at that level. It’s a rarity for me to see the kind of person he is. I don’t think we can take all credit for that as parents, a lot of that is in him.”

Murphy, the reporter who watched Tiger baseball superstars Olson, Hudson, Frank Thomas and Bo Jackson, called Mize “a superstar who doesn’t expect superstar treatment.”

At the heart of all this, beyond statistics and signing bonuses, people sometimes forget that Casey Mize is a kid, who still hangs out with his Springville pals like Nick Rayburn and likes to play “Fortnight” on the gaming system he finally got this year, as a birthday gift from his roommates. While top pro draftees in other sports may celebrate with black limousines and bottles of champagne, Mize celebrated with family, friends, teammates and coaches over burgers and pizza at Baumhower’s Victory Grille in Auburn.

Maybe a single piece of paper written in Springville years ago gives a clue to Casey Mize’s ultimate ambition.

Coach Jonathan Ford asked his players to write down their goals for the season. Some wrote they wanted to make it to the big leagues. Others wrote they wanted to hit .350.

Then, only a freshman, Mize wrote one sentence.

“I want to be a leader.”

Lady Panthers Basketball 1988

Thirty years after remarkable state championship basketball run,
Lady Panthers still winning – at life

Story by Paul South
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.
and Melissa Purvis McClain

When Larry Slater arrived at Pell City High School from Lawrence County in 1987, the Lady Panthers were mired in a girls’ basketball backwater.

“They had a token program at best,” Slater said. “I think they had only played like 10 games the year before. They had a team just to meet the requirements of Title IX – barely.”

In a single season, all that changed. Slater and a group of young ladies with a blue-collar work ethic that mirrored their hometown transformed the Lady Panthers from patsy to powerhouse.

You could call it the “Mill Town Miracle.”

Thirty years later, the 1988 5A State Champions are still winning, as successful in life as they were on the court.

And looking back, some call it “amazing,” others compare it to a fairy tale. But Tonya Tice Peoples, who came to Pell City from Lawrence County when her Dad, Mike Tice, became Pell City’s head football coach and hired Slater as the girls’ hoops coach, puts it more simply:

“… There were no individuals. That’s why the bond is what it is. You can be on a team but not really experience team. If you are ever on a team, and you experience team, you’ll never forget it.”

“There’s a difference, being on a team and actually being able to experience experiencing team. That’s when you don’t have people who are so individual and want to make it about themselves. That’s what I’d want people to know about our team,” she said.

There is so much more to know. From the first day Slater came to Pell City, his new players learned quickly that there was a new sheriff in town. And Slater learned something about his players. He had coached Tice Peoples and Danielle Fields Frye in AAU summer leagues, but everything else was unknown.

“I knew going in that I had two really good ballplayers – Danielle and Tonya – and then the rest was just astonishing, as far as the girls and their hunger for basketball and willingness to work, and everything was amazing.”

And his girls from the blue-collar town were ready to work. Slater, who began as a teacher at the middle school, found that out right away.

 “The Pell City kids would come from the high school to the middle school where I was, and the kids would yell, ‘Hey Coach, are you going to open the gym tonight? ‘And I thought, “Man, I’ve died and gone to heaven. That’s how it started.”

The gates to Slater’s basketball heaven opened earlier. The preceding summer, he opened the gym daily, so the girls could shoot. The road to a state title began there. In those grueling practices, in summer and throughout the season, the light began to come on for the Lady Panthers, said Melissa Purvis McClain.

“To be honest, it was Coach Slater. We were all like sponges when it came to him and his instruction and his philosophy and his game plan. We began to see that if we execute his game plan we will do this. I think for a lot of the players who had already been there, they finally had someone who believed in them and who pushed them. I was not only learning his ways and his philosophy, I was learning the game of basketball at the same time,” Purvis McClain said.

The gym would be open, and players would stay late, working on their game. It was a demanding regimen, executing a run-and-gun Loyola-Marymount-style offense and a relentlessly-pressing Big 10-style defense. But from day one, the players – starving to win – embraced the new coach and his style.

“It was all about making us better people and better players. A lot of it was him. He was hard on us. He demanded excellence, and if you didn’t deliver it, we ran for it. It was just gradually building confidence that we could go out there and win games.”

And win games they did, a new sensation for the Lady Panthers, said Danielle Fields Frye. She had played in two of the lean seasons before Slater’s arrival

“Pell City Girls Basketball had never had a winning season, to the point where what our team did,” Frye said. “We had a few wins here or there, but no one ever considered us much of a threat. We came from nowhere.”

At that time, the universe of prep girls’ basketball in Alabama consisted of Hartselle, Sylacauga, Athens, schools in the big cities like Birmingham, Mobile, Montgomery and Huntsville.

“For us, we literally came from out of nowhere,” Frye said. ‘It was like (the movie) Hoosiers.”

By the numbers, the Lady Panthers went 26-1 in 1987-88, including three wins over rival Sylacauga, the Aggies only losses of the year.

And the greatest win, the one grown folks still talk about in Pell City, came over a girls’ basketball machine, the nationally-ranked Hartselle Lady Tigers in the state title game. Hartselle had won 62 straight games from 1984-86. Compounding the drama: Slater’s daughter Jeanice was a starter for Hartselle.

“The publicity was unreal as far as Jeanice and I playing against each other in the championship game,” Slater said. “It was packed for the first time ever.”

Panther fans had an admonition for their coach, because of his family tie.

“Some of ‘em would say, ‘Now Coach, we know you love your little girl, but you have an obligation to these girls,’” Slater said with a laugh.

And as hard as the Lady Panthers worked, there was also a team chemistry that went beyond the gym – trips to KFC, movie nights, and so on. The team was a unit. And, they also possessed a twinkle of mischief.

A few days before the Final Four, an unhappy Slater bounced his starters from practice.

“We went and got some toilet paper and started rolling Coach’s car,” Tice Peoples remembered. “A police officer came up. We got scared, but she told us we weren’t doing it right. She helped us roll the car.”

That was just one example of a town’s embrace of a team. Townspeople raised money to support the team and bought team gear. Lady Panther Basketball sweatshirts were a hot item in shops where storefronts were painted black and gold. It was that way all the way to the finals.

 

The Championship Game

The Lady Panthers trailed by two and had the ball. As Tice Peoples moved up the floor, she looked to the sidelines to get Slater’s instruction. The arena at Calhoun Community College in Decatur was jammed with a standing-room-only crowd. Even 30 years on, Slater and his players recalled the breathtaking details of those closing seconds.

A Hartselle defender knocked the ball away from behind but was quickly fouled by Pell City’s April Hughes with 8.3 seconds left. The Tiger player had entered the game with 1:38 left, replacing Jeanice Slater, who had fouled out. Pell City’s coach called a time out to ice the shooter, who went to the line to shoot a one and one.

Slater then called a familiar play: “Sideline break, make or miss, with Tonya shooting the three.” It was a play the Lady Panthers practiced nearly every day.

The Hartselle shooter missed. And Danielle Fields Frye grabbed the rebound.

“I really didn’t have to fight for it,” Frye said of her big board. She passed the ball quickly to Tice Peoples. Hartselle crowded the lane, expecting the talented guard to drive to the basket. Instead, she stopped to the right of the key, outside the three-point line and drilled the shot, giving Pell City the lead with four seconds left.

A stunned Tiger team failed to call a time out. Precious seconds drained from the clock. And the Panthers’ astonishing run was complete. Final score: 77-76, Lady Panthers. Keep in mind, Pell City trailed by 15 in the third quarter.

Thirty years later, Tice Peoples’ only remembered emotion heading into the game-winning bucket was anger at giving up a turnover.

“He looks right at me and says, ‘You’re going to shoot the three. You’re going to take the shot,’” she said. “I wasn’t nervous, because I was still mad about what had happened.” So, I was ready to make a play mentally. I just was hoping she didn’t make the shot. Everybody just did their job. We had practiced it. Everybody was underneath in case I did miss it, and it goes in.”

History made. The Pell City High School Lady Panthers were champions, the school’s first state title team in the history of the AHSAA playoff format in any sport. But Slater believes the upset win meant more than a championship for one school. It was a landmark win in the history of girls’ prep sports in Alabama, a state that at one-time prohibited girls’ sports.

“Some people don’t like for me to say it, but I’m going to say it anyway,” Slater said. “It really helped launch girls’ basketball in the state of Alabama.”

 

Still Winners

The years have flown like a Lady Panther fast break. Some of the Lady Panthers went on to play college basketball at Auburn, Alabama, Troy, the University of Montevallo and Columbus College. Slater went on after two sparkling years at Pell City to become a successful junior college coach at Wallace-Hanceville, recruiting some of his former Pell City stars along the way.

Like Slater, Tonya Tice Peoples became a teacher and coach. After working in NASCAR, Danielle Fields Frye is director of community engagement for the United States Auto Club (USAC) and lives with her husband and two daughters outside Indianapolis. Melissa Purvis McClain is an engineer. Erica Collins Johnson, like McClain, is still in Pell City. Alicia Moss Ogletree and Kathy Vaughn – a distinguished military veteran — are still in the area as well. April Hughes is in the fashion industry in New York.

Sadly, one beloved teammate, Nikki Golden, passed away a few years after the fairy tale season. Collins-Johnson’s Mom Alice, one of the team’s most devoted fans, died a few months after the championship.

Slater has kept up with them all. And they with him. Many of his former players say he was “a second Dad.” He’s followed them through their lives and now keeps up with their children. If he had to sum up his team after 30 years, he said, it’s about more than basketball. And that’s the way he wanted it all along.

“They were not to be denied,” he said. “They wanted to play the game. And they wanted to be good at the game. I think that last ballgame just showed the sheer determination of that team. Not just one person. It was April Hughes committing the foul. It was Danielle getting the rebound on the missed free throw. Tonya making the shot. It’s unreal what the kids accomplished – then and now.”

A Century of Panther Football

Story by Paul South
Photos by Mike Callahan
Submitted Photos

In the 1970s, like generations of little boys before and after him, David Gulledge lived for fall Friday nights and Pell City High School Panther football.

Growing up in Avondale’s Mill Village, the gleam of the stadium lights was for Gulledge and his pals, the stuff of hopes and heroes. And joy could come from something as simple as a shred of fabric from Panther running back Wayne McCoy or quarterback Jay Grogan, or future Florida State All-American Ken Roe.

“When I was a kid growing up, that was back when they had tear-away jerseys,” Gulledge said. “I remember looking up and admiring all those folks. I was one of those little kids standing by the fence waiting to get a piece of one of those tear-away jerseys.

“If we were fortunate, we’d get the whole jersey, tie it into a ball and go play football up on the hill,” Gulledge added with a laugh. “Friday nights, as in most towns, mean the town shuts down and comes together.”

Gulledge would grow up to be one of those Pell City Friday night warriors, a three-year starter at quarterback who would later play at Jacksonville State and in the NFL. His is just one of the many stories that course through the 100 years of Pell City High School football.

Friday Night Lights

The impact of Panther football reaches from some not-so-auspicious beginnings – like a 95-7 loss to Anniston Presbyterian in 1921 – to undefeated seasons and to pro football’s biggest stage. Pell City lore includes Bobby Skelton, who quarterbacked Coach Paul “Bear” Bryant’s first bowl team at Alabama. Skelton would later become an SEC and NFL official, part of the crew for one the most exciting Super Bowls, San Francisco’s win over Cincinnati. Grogan would also play for the Tide, part of a host of Panthers who would go on to play college football.

Pell City teams would endure the trials of losing seasons and the triumphs of winning ones. But every game night, the town would come together to cheer the sons of millworkers and merchants, lawyers and doctors.

“Friday night, it’s like the town closes down and everyone is there to support the program and it just kind of brought the community together,” Gulledge said.

Retired attorney Bill Scott knows Pell City football as well as just about anyone. For 25 years, Scott, a former Panther player, helped haul the sideline chains at Pete Rich-Alumni Stadium. Chat with him long enough and he’ll talk about Coach Will Glover, Pell City’s winningest all-time coach, (81-39-6), a mythical state title in 1951 and a tradition of great teams, players and coaches.

The 1951 team, led by All-State end Bobby Golden went 10-0 and allowed only 63 points for the season. The Birmingham News tabbed the Panthers the Class A state champions in the days before the statewide playoff system.

The Panthers made their first playoff appearance in 1974 and captured their first playoff win and region championship the same year. In 1986, Gulledge helped lead the team to its first 11-win season. And in 1993, Pell City earned its first 12-win campaign. Across its history, Pell City has won eight area or region titles, according to ahsfhs.org

Glory Days

Glover led the Panthers in what many consider the golden age of Pell City football. Scott, along with former Panther star Charlie Gray, even helped Glover by scouting the next week’s opponents. Gray “thought the world” of Glover, a beloved Panther head coach, who helped build the stadium with his own hands.

Glover was a fiery competitor, a fever that sometimes spilled into the crowd.

 “We are a country town, but especially back then,” Scott remembered. “People in the neighborhood liked to take a nip or two. And some of them would come to the ball games. Four or five would hang on the fence around the field. Will would get excited, and there’d be some skirmishes on the field. And some of those people on the fence would get a little too inebriated and crawl the fence.

 “I just happened to be the City Recorder (now city judge). A couple of (the fans) got excited and got arrested. They’d come before me and I’d tell ‘em. ‘You tell all your buddies – you know who they are – the next one of them that crawls the fence and gets on that football field, tell ‘em to bring their clothes for six months, because that’s how long I can put ‘em in jail. The next one of you guys that crawls the fence at a football game, you’re going to spend six months in the city jail.’ I didn’t have another one crawl the fence.”

Panther fans had reason to be excited in the Glover era. The 1954 team went without a loss, the only blemish on a spectacular year was a 13-13 tie at Cleburne County. And in 1955, led by senior all-state quarterback Bobby Skelton, the Panthers went 8-1-1.

The World War II generation also played a role in Panther football glory. Some veterans who hadn’t completed high school were able to return to the high school to play football and graduate. The 1946 team under Coach Bill Friedman went 8-1 and defeated rivals Oxford, Leeds and Lincoln along the way.

“I was a scrub on that team,” Scott said. “It was a great team.”

The 1948 team was also memorable, helping establish Pell City’s tradition for great defense. The Panthers shut out Cordova 12-0 in the first game of the season and did not allow a first down until the second half of the second game, Scott recalled.

Defense has been a common thread throughout Panther history, said Scott Adamson, former sports editor at The Daily Home in Talladega. Adamson covered the Panthers for nearly two decades beginning in the late 1980s.

“The one thing I do remember, they always had a good defense, even when they didn’t necessarily have a good season. During the time I was there, they had quite a few losing seasons, but it was very rare when they weren’t competitive,” Adamson said. “And even in their down years, it seems like it was usually the defense that carried the day for them.”

Along with championship seasons and all-star players, Bill Scott tells tales of colorful moments in Panther football, of missed weddings and Scandinavian kickers.

Scott knows the wedding story firsthand. It was his sister Martha’s. And he was the guest who missed the Friday afternoon ceremony. Even brides have to understand the importance of football.

“One of the first games I got to play in, we played Lincoln. My sister Martha got married that afternoon in Tuscaloosa, and I didn’t go to the wedding because I went to the football game and got to play a little bit. She was pretty understanding, I think. She never mentioned that I didn’t go.”

And then, there is the story of Vidar Lunde, the exchange student-turned-kicker. Scott doesn’t remember the opponent, but he remembers Lunde’s kick after a Panther touchdown.

“The ball hit the cross bar. It bounced straight up. The officials under the cross bar apparently ducked their heads. The ball went straight up about 10 yards in the air. It came down on the other side of the crossbar. It was good. But both officials under the crossbar signaled no good. Pell City didn’t get credit for the point.”

From sidelines to gridiron

And Gulledge, who grew from the little mill-village kid clamoring for a scrap from a tear-away jersey into a prep All-America quarterback, college star and NFL draft pick, has a colorful story of his own. Fittingly, it’s about a jersey.

Bill Scott, 1948

“We’re playing at Gardendale, both ranked, in the playoffs, and we go out and warm up in our white away jerseys,” Gulledge recalled. “We come in after we warm up and they’ve got probably the ugliest gold jerseys you’ve ever seen in your life to go with the gold pants we had. The atmosphere in the locker room, just because of the change of the jerseys… it created a lot of excitement and a lot of buzz, and we went on to win the game. But those kinds of memories and the plays that individuals made during high school, those are the things we cherish.”

One-hundred years of precious memories do linger. But more than championships captured and games won, there are generations of lives touched and a community unified. Regardless of the state of the world, color of skin, or station in life, Pell City could always come together to cheer for the Black and Gold. Those were the only colors that mattered.

“I think the main thing is that you’re a part of Pell City football ,whether you are a player or coach, or go to school there or just root for them,” Adamson said. “It is such an integral part of the community. That’s true of a lot of high schools, especially in smaller towns. But it seems for a lot of years, Pell City football was the focus of the community. Even out of football season, people were still talking about it. It was such a legacy situation. You would go to a game, and there were players and fathers and grandfathers who played for them.

“That’s true of a lot of places, but for me as a sportswriter and as someone who lived there, there was no escaping Pell City football. It permeated everything. You learned about the Black and Gold. You learned about the Panthers. It was the pride of the city. Even when the teams didn’t play that well, they still showed up. They still cheered them on. And those kids were looked at like, ‘You’re carrying on a tradition. You may not have the wins that other teams have had, but this is something you’re going to carry with you for the rest of your life.’”

Gulledge, who many regard as the greatest player in Pell City history, gets emotional when remembering his Pell City days. He remembers earning a Pell City letterman’s jacket as a privilege. Lessons learned on the playing field at Rich Alumni stadium serve him to this day as a regional executive for Coca-Cola. He is quick to point out that football, like life, is a team sport.

“(Football) is bigger than one person,” he said. “I’ve been blessed to be surrounded by really talented players, really good teams, really good coaches, through high school, through college and to the NFL at Washington. Now in my professional life, the Lord has really blessed me and shown me favor by putting great people around me.”

When he talks about Panther football’s impact, Gulledge’s voice cracks with emotion.

“As a mill-village kid growing up, there was a time when we were having family challenges and struggles. I was headed down a road of no good. Football was my avenue to get away from those things. Fortunately for me, Coach (Pete) Rich and Coach (Lyle) Darnell and the coaches who invested in me personally and into those other kids in that community and the community as well, for me is what high school football is all about.

“What high school football did for me is give me an opportunity to keep my nose clean and stay out of trouble. It was an avenue that gave me a platform to compete in life. “

Ask Bill Scott about the meaning of Panther football, and he thinks of the nights standing near the concession stand as he readied for another game on the chain gang. The autumn Friday night air was perfumed with the aroma of buttered popcorn, roasted peanuts and steamed hot dogs.

“I’ve told many a person, there’s no place I would rather be in the world at 7 o’clock than right here at the Pell City High School football field on Friday night.”

Wrestler and more

wrestler-chief-thunderhorse

Wrestler, sawmill operator, Dad – Answering the call

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Michael Callahan

Cliff Horsley waits behind the curtain while the ring announcer pumps up the audience. He thinks about the wrestling matches he watched on television and at Birmingham’s Boutwell Auditorium when he was growing up. He thinks about his Mohawk/Cherokee heritage, and starts slipping into character as Chief Thunderhorse, the Silent Giant with the Hands of Stone, who stands for what’s right and good.

Wearing a headdress, arm bands and coordinating black-and-yellow tights, he listens to the fans chanting, “Chief! Chief! Chief!” and hears their whoops and war cries. He holds his head up high, stiffens his back, and slips into the role he will play tonight. Once the introductory music starts, and Horsley walks into the spotlight and crawls under the ring ropes, the transformation is complete. He is no longer Cliff Horsley, Springville resident, sawmill operator, single father of four. He is Chief Thunderhorse, Oklahoma native, representative of the Cherokee Nation, the Real American.

“In the ring, you get to step out and be the character you dreamed of being as a kid,” says Horsley. “It’s the satisfaction of knowing you’ve accomplished what you’ve always dreamed about growing up and watching it, saying, ‘One day I’ll do that.’ It’s knowing you’ve accomplished that, with a lot of hard work and perseverance.”

Being a wrestler was all Cliff Horsley ever wanted. He wrestled at Pinson High School, where he also played football, then turned professional at the age of 22. For the first few years, he used his own name as he wrestled for various entities at the Pell City Civic Center and other Southeastern venues. One day, the head of Global Championship Wrestling told him he needed an Indian and dubbed him Chief Thunderhorse, a part ready-made for Horsley, who fashions arrowhead necklaces for friends. So for the next 10 years, he played the part, while living a gypsy life in a motorhome that he could move any time he wanted to.

wrestler-chief-thunderhorse-2He pushed through his injuries, like the wrist that was broken twice and never healed, the ribs he popped out of his sternum, and the hernia he developed in his lower belly. “The match has to go on,” he says. But it wasn’t the body slams, the scorpion leg locks, the bad-guy punches or the cross-body drops as his opponents fell on him that finally took their toll and pulled him away from the wrestling ring. It was the kids he had never really known.

“In 1996, when they were one-and-a-half years old and newborn, their mom left with them,” he says of his oldest son and daughter. “For 15 years, I did not know their whereabouts. I had no money for a private detective.” To add insult to injury, the man their mother married took on Cliff’s identity, with the aid of one of Cliff’s old driver’s licenses that she had kept.

Then one day, out of the blue, the Chilton County Department of Human Resources (DHR) called. “They said here’s your kids, now you need a stable income,” Horsley says. “They started demanding structure and order.”

He didn’t have to think twice.

“My kids were teenagers, they demanded my time,” he says.

He was already supplementing his income with a portable sawmill, but he had to sell it to keep his head above water for a while. “I had to make child support payments, which went to DHR because the kids had been in their custody for two years.”

His grandfather had been a sawyer and cabinet maker, so working with wood was in his blood. It was something he knew he could do without his children having “a broke-up daddy and no paycheck,” he explains.

He admits that it was tough making the transition from his bachelor lifestyle and the role of Chief Thunderhorse to the role of Daddy and the restrictions that came with it. “But I knew what it was gonna take, me walking away from that business to focus on them, that’d I’d have to give my children the 110% I was giving to wrestling.”

For the past five years, Cliff has spent his time cutting lumber and raising four children — he adopted his biological offsprings’ half-brother and later, a friend’s daughter. He started Cliff’s Mill, buying a 100-year-old sawmill from a retired teacher whose husband had built it, then died before using it. He moved it from Wattsville to its present site in Pell City one piece at a time. It took him about a year. The engine and other parts had rusted out, so he converted a 1968 Ford engine and gas tank to power the mill. “I hand-built everything down to the drive shaft,” he says. “I always was a jack-of-all-trades.”

It was a gasoline-powered mill, and as fuel costs rose, it became too expensive to operate. So he bought a more modern mill. “It got to the point that $20 would not have cut five logs, and the belts were expensive, too,” he says of the antique mill. “But $40 will last a week on the newer one.”

He still uses the old mill when someone wants a time-period cut, because it makes old-fashioned kerfs in the wood. People who are restoring an old house, for example, might prefer those circular grooves to the straight-line kerfs of modern saws. He turns pine and hardwood trees into 2x4s, 2x6s, framing lumber, siding, wood shingles, trailer blocks for mobile homes and occasionally flooring. In the winter, when business is normally slow, he sells firewood.

He will cut to any size, but believes in a true cut. “My 2x4s are 2x4s and not 1-5/8 x 3-1/2s,” he says. He charges by the board foot, averages 200,000 feet a year, and no job is too big or too small. “It’s a small, entry-level sawmill,” he says. “But it’s not a hobby mill. There’s lots of maintenance involved, too.” It’s a physically demanding job, wrestling 1,300-pound trees onto the mill’s conveyor belt. He has one helper, a man named Roy Odom.

Raising teenagers hasn’t been easy either, but Cliff doesn’t regret a minute of it. For the first few years after he got his kids back, he would take a match four or five times a year. That’s a far cry from the two or three per weekend he was accustomed to. His two oldest children grew up and moved out, but he still has a daughter and son at home. While he enjoys being a dad, he also looks forward to getting back into the ring on a regular basis.

“I miss the lifestyle, the physicality of it,” he says. “There’s more to it than just jumping out there and wrestling. You have to watch what you eat, work out between matches. I don’t watch what I eat as much and don’t get the cardio I used to, but I still work out.”

It has been two years since he last heard that intro music and the chanting of the crowds. He recently started eating right again, trying to lose some of the weight he gained during his time out of the ring, itching to get back to the business. But it’s tough.

Yet when asked what he finds tougher, wrestling 300-pound men, 1,300-pound logs or 100-pound teenagers, Cliff doesn’t miss a beat. “Wrestling children,” he shoots back.

The smile in his voice says they’re worth it.