By Michael Newman, DyeStat Illinois Editor

Chapter 1: The road to the summer of ‘78

It was 38 years ago that I began my junior year at York High School in Elmhurst. Believe it or not, it seems like it was just yesterday. It was a memorable year for me. I earned the opportunity to run in the top 7 on the varsity for the York Cross Country team. Along with six other student-athletes, we spent a full year with the quest of running for a state cross country championship.

It was a season were we learned so much about each other.

In the next couple of months, you will read what I and my teammates went through. I’ll try to keep it in real time, so to speak. For example, if it is the week of the conference meets, I will be writing about the week that I ran conference in 1978. The schedule does not change much (Thank you IHSA). You will see that the struggles and the successes that we went through are similar to what you will all go through this year with the exception that we were still in the dark ages in regards to technology. Phones still had wires connecting the receiver to the phone, stopwatches were not digital, and there were only 8 channels that we could watch on the television.

When the summer began, there were 15 runners that were in the top group vying to be in the York top seven by the end of October. Cross Country runners at York were the top dogs each fall. Other schools had football as the thing to watch. In Elmhurst, it was Cross Country even though the Football team thought they were the best thing since sliced bread. They were 1-8 my junior year. You figure it out.

The year before, we had finished second in the state meet behind that unbelievable Deerfield team. Our second place was unbelievable as well. The varsity had lost to Glenbard West three times during the year and got our lunch handed to us by Fremd at the Peoria Invitational. There were so many up and downs. It was a blessing. Even though it was a blessing, York had been without a state championship since 1973. I know, I know. There are some schools that would think it was great to just win one or even make the trip to Peoria for a run at Detweiller in November. Every York senior class had experienced the euphoria of a team winning the state championship since York won their first in 1962. It was that winning culture that Joe Newton had developed since he took over in 1960.

As we entered the summer of 1978, the seniors knew this was their last chance to win and that showed in every workout that we ran. The expectations were there because, well, we were York. But people were down playing this team because we supposedly did not have the talent coming back that the other schools had. We did not have the internet back then so we could compare teams like we do now. You had the state meet results and the Timely Times top lists. Timely Times was TFX back then. Except that you had to wait until Tuesday afternoon for it to come in your mailbox.

We knew what people were saying. We knew in our hearts what we had to do. Sometimes the heart will get you to perform the impossible. The thing was we did not think it was impossible. We knew it would be hard work. We did not realize it would be that hard.

There were three runners that had state meet experience. The leader of the team was Phil Williams. Willie was a quiet leader that would lead by example. He had finished 63^rd at state the year before and had a good track season running 4:25 for the mile. He was an honor student that would end up attending Duke. Willie’s nickname between us was Killer because his sarcastic wit had a killer twinge to it. I’ll get to that as the articles progress. Phil is now a doctor and has a son that runs at Fremd High School in Palatine. I get to see him at some meets and have wanted to come up to him and say “Hey Doctor Killer” … somehow that would not sound right.

Our number one returnee was Tim Krull who had finished 48th. His nickname was Crazy Horse. I had known Tim since junior high school. He was a free spirit and philosophy sometimes did not mix with Mr. Newton’s. Maybe not sometimes, but most of the time. People outside of the program thought his nickname was because of how he acted. It was actually from this t-shirt that he seemed to wear every day during the summer that had Crazy Horse written on it. He was talented. To make the top seven as a sophomore then, you had to be talented.

The other returnee was Pat McCarthy, who was the seventh man on the team at state. He was one of those runners that had a brother that had previously run on the team. His brother Bob was a two time all-state runner that was a member of York’s last state championship team in 1973. Mike Wagner, who also had brothers that had run for Mr. Newton, was hungry to race. Most of his junior season was injury riddled. He wanted to make sure his senior season to count. Jim Hedman was hungry as well. He had run in the top seven most of the previous season. He was nosed out by “Brother Mac” in a three mile time trial before regionals. Mac ran in the state series, Heds was an alternate.

There were five other seniors that wanted a chance to run in the top seven. Mark Lisy was the 8^th man the year before and the “Tin Man” was looking to get in the line-up. Mike Frega, Pete Schuyler, Steve Boyd, and Rob Ragusin were those typical York juniors that shined in the junior varsity just waiting for their chance to make the line-up. “Freegs” would be the heart of our team. He wanted to win so bad that he wrote a letter to Mr. Newton devoting his senior year to that purpose after the state meet in 1977.

Then there were a couple of us juniors that were hoping to get into that top seven. My best friend in high school was David Haller. We had both dramatically improved during our sophomore season. When one of us was down, the other would pick each other up. Maybe it was we hated to lose to each other. I think the main thing was that we had the same work ethic and did not mind leaving our lunch out on the track. David’s nickname was 'Henry.'' Actually, it was Henry Kissinger that got shorthened down to Henry. During one of the runs during our freshman year, there were a couple of the runners that started a fight during a run. Dave told them to stop. He even threatened to go to a house and ring a door bell. The kids stopped. That is how he got his name. He had a younger sister Kathy. Her nickname was "Henrietta." Yup. We were a cruel bunch.

For me, it was just an adventure getting to his point where I was in the position to challenge for the top seven. As long as I could remember, sports were in my veins and part of my DNA. When I was in third grade, I was a little slower than everyone else (not in the running sense) which concerned my parents. They decided to take me to a doctor to have me examined. The doctor told my parents afterwards that sports would never be a part of my life. For an eight year old kid, I did not know what that meant. Do you mean I would not be able to compete or not be good? I found it out the hard way as I was not the best baseball, basketball, or football. In eighth grade, I did find my niche when my math teacher Don Collins started a cross country club. He figured since York had a “good” team that the junior high should have a team. There were eight boys on the team. I was the sixth man. At least I was not eighth. But through all my failures in the other sports, I found that the perserverance that I had would suit me the best in running.

I went out for cross country at York and felt that I belonged there. Mr. Newton was a tough coach, but he made everyone feel that they were a part of the team. My freshman year could be summed up by one word: “inconsistency.” During the fall, I was the fourth man at the county meet. At our conference meet, I went out too fast and finished 83^rd in the freshman race. The same thing happened to me during the track season. I did run 10:23 early during the outdoor season but my times in the 2-mile were all over the place. I was just out there running. I guess I had not figured out the purpose of running and doing it the right way.

For every runner, there is a moment that the switch flips on and you get what running is all about. My moment came on a Monday afternoon in October during my sophomore year. Half the season I had shin splints and could not race. I did finish the season as the third man on the sophomore team. We had a 3-mile time trial to decide the runners that would run at districts and also the alternate runners that would accompany the team to the state meet. I ran a PR of 16:11. It was more than a minute better than what I ran the year before. In the last 100 meters, I was passed by Dave Garcia and Rob Ragusin. I found out afterwards that I was the 13^th man. Mr. Newton only took 12 runners to state.

I went down with my parents. I watched the team warm-up. I watched Tom Graves hold on for dear life as Jim Spivey tried to run him down the final straight. I watched from the upper part of the bleachers at Peoria High School, where the award ceremony was, and watched as the York team in their tuxedos accepted the second place trophy. All I could remember thinking was that I went through a season where I was injured and I just missed being down there. If I had actually trained through that, I could have been down there. I corrected my thoughts. I SHOULD be down there.

I decided then and there that's where I wanted to be in one year.

I put in some hard miles during that track season. My times started to drop. The main thing I was not all over the place performance wise. Mr. Newton would give out an AAU patch that we could put on our uniform if we broke 10:00 for 2 miles. It was a big thing to do that back then. At my indoor conference meet, I finished second. My time was 10:00.01. It was hand timed so that .01 became 10:00.1. I was hoping that he would give me the patch. Nope. I had to go under 10:00. It did not happen which meant I had to make it happen outdoors. My times were close outdoors but not under.

At a sophomore meet at Evanston the week before conference, I ran 9:15.3 for 3000 meters tying with Crazy Horse for the win. I converted that it came up 9:59.6 for 2 miles. I thought I had my patch. It had to be for 2 miles I thought. I was not going to ask Mr. Newton if there was some metric clause to all of this. The varsity ran horrible that weekend and we had a two hour meeting in our pit of an indoor track. Thirtheen laps to the mile and we sat there on the concrete track that was underneath our gym.  It is one of those character defining meetings. That is what I liked to call it.

It finally happened at conference where I ran 9:58.9 to get fourth in the race. All I remember after that race was how blistered my feet were to the point where I could not walk. My spikes of choice back then was a pair of adidas Avantis. No padding but for a beginning runner, they worked. After my parents saw my feet they decided it was time to invest in new spikes.

After conference, I thought my season was over. My mind moved to cross country. That week I put in extra miles, more than I usually did thinking that I would not be racing for a while so why not get a head start. The Friday before districts Mr. Newton called me into his office. The day before a meet it was tradition (and a team rule) that the entire team wears a nice shirt and tie to school. The thing was that Tim Krull did not and he was supposed to run in the 2 mile.

Getting called in to Newton’s office was a novelty for me at that stage of my career. I did not know what to think. He explained what the situation was and told me that I was running tomorrow. I nodded and thanked him for letting me run. I did not want to tell him that my legs were so tired from the extra miles that I put in. I just went into the race with the idea of doing the best I could.

I was dead last at the mile of the 2 mile fast heat. 5:08 and Newton was not saying a thing to me. There was three things that could happen in a race. He could yell at you telling you that you were doing great. He could yell at me telling me to pick it up. Or … he could say nothing. He did the third thing. Oh crap.

My legs felt better in the last mile and started to move. Boy did I move. The last mile was 4:51. I finished in 9:59 and was seventh beating some varsity runners I had no business beating. Afterwards, Mr. Newton called me over and asked what had happened. He told me I looked great the last mile but wanted to know about the first mile. I explained to him about the miles. He looked at me for a second and then shook my hand. “Good moose,” he said. That was a good thing. It was the first of many times that he would do that. That race gave me the confidence that I could compete at the next level.

Some moments in your life define who you will be. This was the one for me. It showed if I put in the work required to succeed, I could achieve getting the most out of my ability.

The pre-season letter with the workouts was handed out the following day. He would always list the runners that he thought would be towards the front. My name was there. I had made the list but I still had work to do. So did everyone else on the team as we transitioned from track to summer workouts that would take us to what we were dreaming of.