On the Fields of Not So Friendly Strife - The Rest of the Story

Milford Trek, New Zealand - photo by JoAnn Sturman

By Steven R. Oberst

Okay, I think Priskna missed the true meaning of the General Douglas MacArthur quote. You see, I think MacArthur was talking about using sports to learn how to give your all and to learn about the importance of teamwork. In singles handball, you can give it your all, but where is the teamwork? Of course, that’s why I’m here to share the rest of the story.

In my memory most of Priskna’s story seems correct, except for the part about him weighing 140 pounds as a Fourth Class Cadet. As a classmate of Priskna’s in the 23rd squadron, I am sure it was me that weighed 140 pounds. Priskna weighed at least 143.

As a Doolie, I remember playing handball with Priskna on the weekends. He would kick my ass so bad, that I counted it a victory if I scored more than two points in a game. You see, what Priskna failed to tell you about the thrashing of Cadet Second Class McBride, is that it was no contest. Although smaller, Priskna was pound for pound one of the best athletes I have ever been around. Handball, basketball, football, tennis, or you name it, he was the guy you wanted on your team. A kamikaze skier, Priskna had a “point the tips downhill” mentality. To him, if your nose wasn’t bleeding at the end of a day of skiing, you weren’t going fast enough. Whatever sport we played, intramural or out in the quadrangle, Priskna always gave it 100%.

After the defeat of McBride and our Fourth Class year, Priskna took his handball game up a notch, playing for the Cadet Handball Club. Our Third Class year, we became part of the new 40th squadron. Over our years together in the 40th, Priskna and I continued to play an occasional weekend game of handball. My game improved over time and I could usually manage 3 or 4 on him in a game. Try as we might to make the 40th an intramural powerhouse, we were doomed by three things. The class ahead of us had virtually no athletes in our squadron, our classmates were leaving the ‘zoo’ in droves, and the ranks of the class behind us were decimated by a scandal. It seemed like most of the guys exiting the Academy from the 40th were the best athletes. As a result, those of us left behind found it hard to field competitive intramural teams. Let’s face it, a flickerball team of Wally, Soapy and Curly Joe were never going to win a game.

During my intramural career in the 40th, the teams that Priskna and I played on were competitive and usually had winning records. We learned the value of teamwork and giving it our all. We spent hours playing or practicing sports. I probably caught more touchdowns thrown by Priskna in quadrangle pick-up games than T.O. did in a career in the NFL. Unfortunately, that meant the other seasonal sports teams were probably losing more than they won. The Cadet Squadron Athletic Officer had the responsibility of putting together intramural teams for three for four sports in each three seasons (Fall, Winter and Spring). Somehow I was assigned in my Third Class year to play on the intramural handball team for the 40th, a winter sport.

To my great delight, I discovered that there were no W.R. Priskna’s playing intramural handball. So, although relative to Priskna, I was a crappy player, I went undefeated in intramural play that year, and again the next. Finally in my First Class year, I was undefeated going into my final match with Cadet First Class Wallace of 2nd Squadron. I had never played Wallace before, but he was also undefeated in intramural play. The weekend before the big match, Priskna took time away from driving his ‘Z’ around the Springs to play some handball with me. Although, I searched for weaknesses in his game, as usual, I found none; however, I managed 7 points in one game, so I was 5 points better than 3 years earlier.

The final handball match of my intramural play was a marathon event. Wallace got me in the first match by a few points. Unlike, Priskna’s opponent McBride, Wallace had a pretty decent left hand, or so it seemed initially. During the first game with Wallace I searched in vain for a weakness. It was only in the second game that I discovered his left hand was good down low, but not up high. A ceiling shot deep to his left hand seemed to put him on the defensive. I squeaked out a victory in games 2 and 3, with each game going down to the wire. I remember being so tired that I had to crawl back up the hill to the Cadet Area. Wallace was probably a better handball player than me, but I had the “Priskna” practice advantage.

For the past 40 years I have played on countless amateur sports teams, from flag football to basketball to softball. In all those years, I kept looking for teammates who combined all the aspects of team-manship and laying it all out there like Priskna did. Some came close, but still were lacking in comparison. MacArthur of course was thinking of military battles when he spoke of “other fields.” Today, my sports battles have to do with knees and speed (the lack thereof). And so, for me it is special to recall that Priskna kid of 40 years ago, all 143 pounds of him, not only earning the meal at rest in Mitchell Hall, but setting a standard I can still look back on in awe.