Gabe Coombs passes the ball

Basketball at High Noon

By Terry Mosher

Editor, Sports Paper

Causal observers walking the track above peer down at the gym below as bodies slam into each other, shots clang off rims, sweat soaks shirts and skin. What they can’t see are the stories buried underneath the gray hair, the no-hair, and the long hair of the men who come at noon like swallows to San Juan Capistrano.

This is the Kitsap Family YMCA, sitting on the hill at Bremerton’s Eastpark, a lovely melting pot of quiet and peace for men and women from here and there who gather to get fit or at least pretend to.

It’s where Marvin Williams hangs out when he’s not whipping around the country earning millions during the NBA season, pounding up and down the maple woods in Atlanta, in Chicago, in Los Angeles and, at one time in Seattle, and then back to Atlanta.

This is where Joe Blow from Idaho, tossed off the maple woods in his old high school days, comes to show he does have basketball game. Mary Sue from Timbuktu, is there, testing her skill against the more physical men, standing her ground even as she is given no quarter.

Hidden beneath the squeak of sneakers that are asked to suddenly stop and then go laterally or even backward are the untold history of the men and women wearing them. They come Monday, Wednesday and Friday at noon to 1:30 p.m. – it’s open Tuesday and Thursday too but for some unexplained reason the swallows and the sorted shapes of men and women rarely show, which frustrates those at the Y who pine for them to appear – and on Saturdays 9 a.m. to 10:30 a.m. to play on teams of four in games to seven baskets

Decorum is the rule and if they could be, egos would be checked at the welcome center. No sagging shorts, no dunking, no swearing. Just play. Just have fun.

“Hey, no cracks,” yelled Allan Muyskens one recent noon. Muyskens monitors the games on Mondays and Wednesdays, assigning players to teams on the green board. “Pull up your shorts,” he yells to the offending player.

Will Maupin lost a close election for Bremerton mayor to Patty Lent. He’s here. Lent is not.

Ross Morgan brings in a group from Kitsap Mental Health and shoots around and may get in a game while his charges do their thing. He’s been coming here since, well, gosh, for several decades.

Larry Wischhoefer, 62, has his gray hair in a ponytail and plays as smooth and flexible as somebody 40 years younger. He played freshman basketball at old Bremerton East High and then the family moved to Washington, D.C. where the next season he broke his hand (his coach did it) ending his high school career but not his drive to the basket. He plays where he can as often as he can, either in the Bremerton City League, in Port Orchard or here at the Y.

John Coker is no longer here. But at one time the 7-footer from Olympic High School, Boise State and several NBA teams, used to come around between 10-day NBA contracts and flash the finesse he was famous for, knocking down 3-pointers with ease.

During the summer, many of the local collegians show up and flash their improvements on the unsuspecting, including Adam Shildmyer, who prepped at King’s West (now Crosspoint Academy) and played at Olympic College and Northwest Nazarene.

Kayla Bennett comes around. Bennett played high school at Bremerton and Central Kitsap, went off to play at North Seattle Community College and red-shirted last year at Central Washington. She is sitting out this season, getting her academics in order, and soon will be back in school and gearing up for another two seasons with the Wildcats.

“I haven’t played in a game like a year and half,” Bennett said. “It’s hard doing all the little stuff (and not playing).”

Bennett hasn’t been back in Kitsap County for some time and she hasn’t been playing much at the YMCA.

“I used to play here a lot,” she said as she waited to take the floor for a game.

You have to be 17 or older to play – the age drops to 16 on holidays – and many athletes who can still see their high school in the rear view mirror show up to keep in shape and sharpen any game they might have had in high school.

Donald Rollman, Patrick Lewis, Nate Perry and D’Andre Warren, all once played together at Bremerton High School and they make noon appearances. Warren, who graduated from Olympic High School, is back from Texas. Lewis played two years at Olympic College, and Rollman is enrolled there, but is headed next to Trinity Lutheran in Everett to play soccer on scholarship.

“I come just to stay in shape,” says Rollman, adding its fun to play with all his friends.

Jason Simmons used to come here. Simmons was discovered while playing, and encouraged to try Olympic College. He did, starred there and took his game from there to Northwest Nazarene (2006-07).

It’s the long-timers that make it interesting. Glen Godfrey, executive director of the Y, started playing in the early 1970s when the Y was located downtown where the ferry terminal is now. After three surgeries on his Achilles and both knees, he retired to his office four years ago.

“But I sure had fun,” he says with a big grin.

Maupin and Bob LaFountaine, who has climbed and continues to climb some of the highest mountains in the world, along with Tom Clark, a no show for the last six months, and Clarke Whitney, sidelined with a bad hip, are the longest tenured players now that Godfrey no longer goes skins.

Whitney, who owns Clark Whitney CPA, has been around the Y since forever. The year he was born his father Howard Whitney, a legendary handball player in these parts, came north from San Diego to become executive director of the downtown Y.

It wasn’t until he was in his 20s that Whitney finally took to basketball, but he remembers the early days when shipyard workers would pour out of the main downtown gate at noon and head to the Y to play basketball.

“I wanted to play for the exercise,” he says. “I joined in the pickup games at noon and just loved it. I developed a lot of friends through it.”

He’s been coaching, playing and sponsoring a team in the Bremerton City League for over 20 years. His city league team has won four Washington Recreation Basketball Federation state championships.

It was about three months ago that Whitney’s basketball playing days took a hit. He was up at Crystal Mountain skiing with his son and raced home that night because he was coaching his team in the city league. When he got to the gym he discovered his team only had four players. So he had to suit up.

“I played the whole game and we won by 20 points,” he said. “The next day I could barely walk. It ended my career.”

He has an arthritic hip that needs to be replaced, and until that happens he’s out at the Y. But if he has it done, he will be back.

While Whitney is out, Gabe Coombs is in.

Don’t try to keep up with Coombs during his heavy weight-lifting workout at the Y’s weight room. The guy is chiseled like the youthful Charles Atlas, with tattoos making him stand out among the fitness group.

He’s not bad on the court, either. Just don’t get in a pushing match with him in the paint because you will lose.

Of course, anybody who is black and growing up in a Montana High School has his work cut out for him. There were just he and Claudine Washington at Missoula’s Hellgate High School.

“She was a pretty black girl,” says Coombs. “Just her and me. It was very racial. It’s redneck country. Its Montana; lots of cowboys.”

Coombs was born in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and was adopted by a white mother who lived in Montana.

“I feel fortunate (to be adopted),” Coombs says. “A black guy and a white girl decided to have a kid in 1972. That was very looked down upon back then. So I grew up in Missoula. I have a sister three years older than me. She’s also black. Mom, a white lady, adopted two black kids – in Montana.”

His life was made easier because he was an athlete. Coombs competed in track and field and played basketball.

“(But) you better be good, and you better be strong,” Coombs said with a laugh. “You better be strong and not get caught in the wrong spot at the wrong time. It was a good experience, though. We grew up bucking (hay) bales for 10 cents a bale.”

He did a lot of that cowboy-on-a-ranch thing – changing pipes in the field, digging trenches, pulling calves, and chopping wood.

“There aren’t many of us black country boys,” Coombs said. “But that’s the way we grew up.”

He says he never wore a cowboy hat.

“I had a pair of s--t kickers,” he said, laughing. “When I moved I got rid of them. No more memories. I’m done with them. Absolutely done.”

Coombs remembers a summer when he was still in high school and had been on a trip that took him through Idaho. He had to stop for gas and the attendant didn’t even look up at him when he issued a warning.

“It was just a little town in Idaho,” Coombs said. “He just said, ‘You need to fill up your car and go.’ He said it, really just kind of subtle, letting me know that it probably was in my best interest not to hang around. I guess I appreciated it.”

Now, of course, he can hang around as long and as many times as he wants. And he does, showing swift moves around the hoop as defenders clear room for this muscular guy.

These noon games started as a way for businessmen to get away from the office and shake off some of the frustrations of their jobs, but in recent years it’s turned more into a melting pot of players, black, white, all different nationalities, old, young, middle age, slim and trim to heavy and fat.

Stocky Merv Killoran started playing at the old downtown YMCA about 1980 and has been showing for noon showdown at the gym since.

Killoran was an all-conference fullback at Grays Harbor Community College where he played two years (1965-66) for Cactus Jack Elway (who earlier coached at Port Angeles and is father of John Elway).

“Elway went to Montana (with new head coach Jack Swarthout) and I got mad at Jack for some reason and I went to Montana State out of spite,” Killoran said. “We got 10 guys who got rides (scholarships) to Montana, one to Oklahoma State and me to Montana State. Twelve out of our starting 22 had full rides to four-year schools.”

“Another Montana boy,” yells Coombs of Killoran so everybody can hear on the basketball floor.

Killoran, though, only played spring ball for Montana State, which was coached by Jim Sweeney (the quarterback was Dennis Erickson) just before he left to take the head job at Washington State. He grew up in Vancouver, B.C., and played for Vancouver College (a Catholic K-12 school). His coach there was CFL Hall-of Famer Cal Murphy and when Murphy became an assistant coach for Dave Holmes at Eastern Washington, Killoran transferred to Eastern, redshirting his first year and then playing the next two seasons.

Later, Killoran, who now works commercial real estate for Reid Realty in Silverdale, played for the British Columbia Lions of the Canadian Football League.

Killoran, who became a U.S. citizen in 2003, looks like a fullback on the basketball court. Looks are deceiving, though, and Killoran will drill a jump shot if he is taken too lightly. He plays because he loves it.

“I play so I can keep eating,” says Killoran. “I have fun with the guys. I’m 62 and they keep me young.”

He’s got some nicks and bruises over the years, and some stitches.

“I’ve gotten stitches twice over the years playing down there,” he says. “An elbow, or something. It’s always over the eyes.”

As Killoran speaks, some hard fouls lead to angry words exchanged. Before it gets out of control, Muyskens steps in to calm things down. Swearing isn’t supposed to be done, but on occasion some no-no words slip out. Muyskens is quick to put a halt to that, also.

“Let’s clean it up,” he says. “Play regular basketball. It’s fun. Let’s go.”

The combatants return to their game and the tension quickly dissipates.

Patrick “Red” Boyle, also from Reid Realty, watches the action from behind the wall. He once was a regular but injuries have put him on the permanent reserved injury list.

“I had a lot of fun playing noon ball,” says Boyle, who retired from the Navy in 1978. Before retiring he played basketball and coached soccer in San Diego. “I used to play almost every day for a long time. Then I cut it down to three times a week. It would take that long for my knees to quit hurting.”

Boyle, 72, has an accent related to his growing up about 180 miles south of Chicago in the heart of Illinois. He looks in good enough shape to be out on the floor, but his balky knees constantly remind him to stay put.

“It’s a great game,” Boyle says. “I love the team aspect of the game. I can’t stand the way some of these kids play nowadays. It’s all one-on-one. One guy gets a hold of the ball and you never see it again.”

Greg Dunn. 46. Recently quit smoking and playing at noon is a way to lose weight and get in shape. It’s tough on him because most of the players are at least a generation younger.

“They foul a lot,” Dunn says. “They play pretty tough, and they are younger than me. But I try. I’ll keep getting fatter if I don’t try.”

Moments later, Dunn put up a shot along the baseline and misses by 10 feet. But, hey, that’s ok, he’s out there trying and that’s all what counts.

Killoran wears a mouth guard when he plays. He had his two front teeth knocked out playing college football and just recently had them replaced with implants that cost $10,000.

“That’s why I’m wearing this,” Killoran says, taking the mouth guard of his mouth. “I don’t want to pay another 10 grand.”

Maupin started playing ball at the old YMCA in 1970. He went to work in the shipyard on a 13th and two days later he went to the Y at lunchtime and continued to do that every noon afterward. He ran into Bob LaFountaine, who had already been playing, and continues to play when he’s not climbing mountains somewhere in the world.

“He’s probably the longest one who is left,” says Maupin, who says playing basketball at the Y has become a habit he can’t kick. “I love basketball. It’s a great game. I know how to play the game, even though physically I’m not able to play it very well anymore.”

Maupin came out of Aberdeen High School, where he was on the track and field and swimming teams. He didn’t play much basketball until he walked into the Y. Then he expanded it to Bremerton City League, shipyard league, Navy League.

“Sometimes I played three leagues in one season,” he says. “I would play two games in one night – lots of times.”

His many games in many nights didn’t affect his marriage to Karen, daughter of the late Whitey Domstad, former Bremerton mayor and a longtime boxing referee.

“He (Whitey) and I used to come down to the Y together all the time,” Maupin said. “He didn’t play basketball. He played racquetball. He refereed two world (boxing) championships. I quit going to boxing to watch him when I went and sat in the front row and got splattered with blood.”

Domstad died in 1991.

Vicky Grettenberger is a mail carrier out of the West Hills Post Office and is a single mom with three daughters who play the game. She came here in 1998 from San Diego when she got divorced to get help raising her children from her family living here.

Grettenberger, 44, played two years at San Diego State and comes to the Y on her off-days to knock around with the noon players. She more than holds here own.

Her daughter Candace played at Bremerton and is starting sophomore guard at North Seattle Community College. A second daughter – Latonya – is in California. “She just made me a grandma,” Grettenberger said.

The youngest daughter is Sharnaee, a sophomore on the girls basketball team at Bremerton High School.

Grettenberger has been coming to the Y for a little over five years to show the talent that led her to star at Patrick Henry High School in San Diego and then play at San Diego State. And like many of the noon participants, she comes for the exercise.

“You got to keep it going with the cardio,” she says, adding, “ I’ve seen a lot of these guys grow up. A lot of them stay away from me, too. They know I play aggressively.”

Former Olympic High School top scorer, Joey Johnston is a regular noon guy. The fourth of six boys who were crowded into a two-bedroom house led him to move out on his own and get a job and try to make it on his own. That effort took him away from playing at OC, but he wants to give it a try next season.

He plans on going to OC this month. He has gone to open gyms at OC and has held his own.

“I’m so excited to start in March,” Johnston says. “I miss school. I want to be successful and I know I can’t without college.”

Rashad Greene, who also played at Olympic High School, played football at Liberty University in Virginia for one year as wide receiver and safety, but had to return home to help out the family. He plans on going to Portland State this fall for football, and for now stays in shape by taking it strong to the rack in these noon games.

Kellen Alley, who played football at Bremerton and Western Washington, is an assistant football coach at Bremerton. He works on Bainbridge Island, but with flexible hours is able to get on the floor every so often at the Y.

He graduated from 2007 from Western and plays with the Bremerton Alumni team in the Bremerton City League.

‘It’s just fun to play. I love to compete,” says Alley, who lives in Bremerton. “ My New Year’s resolution is to get my muscle memory back.”

Whischhoefer has his muscle memory, but at his age could lose it fairly quick. So he keeps on going.

“I’m too old to stop. If I stopped playing, I wouldn’t be able to get started again. That’s the way I figure,” says Whischhoefer, an MIT graduate who plays year around. “You got to keep doing it or you are done.”

So Y basketball keeps on going. It’s been that way for over 50 years now and shows no sign of slowing down. New bodies turn into middle age into sunset age. And as one slips out the door, several others move on in.

Up above, on the track, people walk, jog and run. Most of them ignore the organized chaos below that is beginning to take shape. They have their own little thing to do.

Meanwhile, the clock above them slaps its hands together at 12 and below, game is on, just as it always has been, and maybe always will be.