Slats

Teammates are special.  There is something magical and unexplainable about friendships forged in our common experiences that take place on the courts and on the fields.  Sports like football, where tests of toughness are passed during sweaty two-a-day practices in August.  Or, the common experience of running endless sprints on the basketball court after a long practice, with your lungs on fire, with your coach smugly watching his stopwatch.  Or the pace of baseball that encourages long conversations about anything and everything while shagging flies in the outfield or on long bus rides late into the night.  Disappointments or victories are much better when shared.  You truly are impelled to trust each other.

My friend and high school teammate, Terry “Slats” Slattery passed away on April 8, 2020 after a long hard battle with brain cancer. Because of all the precautions we are taking in the pandemic, many of us have been unable to properly say goodbye to our friend. There was a (delayed) memorial service on August 1, 2020 in Cape Girardeau, which I regretfully missed. Terry was a great family man, devoted husband to Annette, and raised two fine sons, Patrick and Blake.

As many of you know, Terry was long-time manager/owner of Howard’s Sporting Goods in Cape Girardeau.  His soft-spoken nature and welcoming personality made this an outstanding fit-perfect, really.  His wit was stealthy and razor sharp.  After our family moved away from Cape for the second time in 1998, his presence at Howard’s became an important touchstone for me when returning to Cape in the ensuing years.  By that I mean as you naturally grow more distant from even your closest friends as the years pass, it becomes harder and harder to keep those friendships close and tight.  Wish it wasn’t so.  Unless you have ever had to move away from your home town, this may be hard to understand. 

But Terry was always there.  Howard’s was the epicenter of local sports for several generations.  I would make it a point to swing by Howard’s on many of my trips to Cape.  Here, Terry would always greet me warmly, and we could casually discuss the latest local news (mostly Central High and Southeast sports).  Terry was one of those rare individuals that could give you these updates (OK, gossip included!), and stay true to his kind nature, which meant he was never critical of anyone, whether deserving or not.

Slats was a fellow 1972 CHS grad, and football teammate.  He was an outstanding, albeit under-utilized tight end with deceptive speed.  Terry didn’t really run, he glided.  His effortless, smooth running style was a gift, and he never looked like he was trying all that hard, but you knew he was.   One game in particular comes to mind that happened in our senior year.

We had beaten Festus in game one, and were facing the Carbondale Terriers in game two.  At the time, I was the starting QB, and we were tied 0-0 late in the first half on our own 20-yard line, when I called a bootleg pass called the 46 Blast Pass.  This play was a fake of one of our most often-used off tackle running plays. When it worked, the tight end would get behind the defenders on a deep post pattern.  I faked to the tailback, put the ball on my hip and trotted back, looking over my left shoulder.  I looked up, and there was Terry, streaking down the middle of the field, with no Terrier within twenty yards of him.  In my excitement, I almost blew it.  I pulled up short, spun to my left, and threw a hurried, adrenalin-inspired, flat, fluttering pass “in Terry’s direction”.  It was by definition, a ‘catchable ball’, but only because Terry was somehow able to catch it.  He stopped in full stride, reached down and plucked the ball headed for his ankles, and streaked down the field ahead of the defenders. I can picture it so vividly in my head as if it happened 5 minutes ago. It may be one of the ugliest 80 yard touchdown passes in history. We would go on to win 28-0, and Slats caught another TD pass (this one was prettier) from me later in the game.  It was my best football game, and Terry played a large role. 

This was a good day, a special one that Terry and I would on occasion have a good chuckle about. Thanks, Slats for this memory, and for all those other times. That (fall) 1971 season would turn out to be an outstanding one for Central (8-1), but a personal disappointment for me, in general.  A story for a different time.

Terry would go on to an outstanding career at Southeast as a clutch receiver, catching passes for the (then) Indians.  We lost a good one, folks. Slats was a class act all the way, and done too soon.

 I miss him.