I have been going through dad's albums and scrapbooks and found interesting clippings about some of his experiences. His freshman year at Mullin the school started sixman. Dad played End on both sides of the ball. They won one game. The next year they doubled the victories. His senior year they were undefeated heading into the playoffs. Their first round opponent---Copperas Cove.
I haven't found anything about his junior season yet, but he claimed many times to have played Jack Pardee at Christoval. Dad said he was a big, strong player who carried the ball almost every down. He was hard to bring down mainly because of his immense size. The Mullin boys dressed out an average of 130 lbs. and Jack was listed 190 and very mobile.
At the funeral I spoke with one of dad's running mates during high school, Bill Lindsey. Bill chuckled as he described many events dad and he participated in, and they always involved girls, or were spawned from the desire to find girls. Apparently most of the Mullin dads could see (smell might be more accurate) them approaching from far away. Bill remembered one thing about the Christoval game he still laughs about. Sometime in the early stages of the game while in the defensive huddle dad told his teammates the best way to tackle Pardee was to throw yourself between his piston-like legs so that they would stop churning long enough for help to arrive and finish the tackle. After one such attempt Bill leaned over to help dad up from the bottom of the pile and congratulated dad's fine leg tackle. He said all dad did was rub his maskless helmet and ask where the "momma bull was that ran through the garden".
Bet Harley and Jack are playing a game of football right now. I wonder who got Gabriel.
It's a struggle to accept that dad is never coming home again. Or maybe he really has. Rest In Peace Daddy.
I haven't found anything about his junior season yet, but he claimed many times to have played Jack Pardee at Christoval. Dad said he was a big, strong player who carried the ball almost every down. He was hard to bring down mainly because of his immense size. The Mullin boys dressed out an average of 130 lbs. and Jack was listed 190 and very mobile.
At the funeral I spoke with one of dad's running mates during high school, Bill Lindsey. Bill chuckled as he described many events dad and he participated in, and they always involved girls, or were spawned from the desire to find girls. Apparently most of the Mullin dads could see (smell might be more accurate) them approaching from far away. Bill remembered one thing about the Christoval game he still laughs about. Sometime in the early stages of the game while in the defensive huddle dad told his teammates the best way to tackle Pardee was to throw yourself between his piston-like legs so that they would stop churning long enough for help to arrive and finish the tackle. After one such attempt Bill leaned over to help dad up from the bottom of the pile and congratulated dad's fine leg tackle. He said all dad did was rub his maskless helmet and ask where the "momma bull was that ran through the garden".
Bet Harley and Jack are playing a game of football right now. I wonder who got Gabriel.
It's a struggle to accept that dad is never coming home again. Or maybe he really has. Rest In Peace Daddy.
