~Chapter 3: Sunshine~
Here I sit alone in my bedroom, pen in hand. Big Ju mailed this to me. I'm supposed to write about Gerry Bertier. I have to finish tonight so I can pass it on.
My girlfriend says I have a way with words, so I guess that's a good thing. I just don't know if you can put a guy like Gerry Bertier in words. He was larger than life, certainly larger than words. I would know. I was tackled by him. Alot! No, just kidding. Well, I have been tackled by him alot. But... Oh! Stupid Ronnie! Count on me to make a joke when I'm supposed to be serious. Ah! Can I scratch that remark?
Well, let me try to start over on a more serious note. I don't know if there really was a serious note in my history with Gerry Bertier.
We didn't exactly start off on the right foot. I was a late arrival at training camp. And my hair hung down to my shoulders. So Gerry called from the field, "Hey, fellas! Look at that fruitcake!"
Coach Yoast told him to get back on the field. Boone and Yoast were talking to my dad, so I decided to show Gerry what a "fruitcake" I really was. I picked up a football and made a long pass, targeted at Bertier's back. It hit him. He didn't seem to think that was too funny, but the other guys did. Especially Big Ju Campbell.
I, unfortunately, had to get my haircut. Then we went in the locker room, and Petey Jones, a runningback, named me "Sunshine."
I needed a way to get back at Bertier. Throwing a football at him was one thing, but I decided to let the punishment fit the crime. If he called me a fruitcake, I'd show him just what a fruitcake was. I went over to him, and he asked where Julius was. I told him that he was in the shower. So he asked what I wanted.
I put an "I've-got-it-bad-for-you" look on my face and said, "You know what I want." Then I gave him a big sloppy wet one on the lips. He tried to kill me, probably would have, too. But I didn't let him get his hands on me. He fell and busted his butt.
After camp, I asked him if we were cool. He gave me five and said, "Yeah, we're cool. So we became pretty good friends.
He was the only all-American on the '71 Titans team. He was a great linebacker, and he loved the game. So it was a blow to him when he found out that, because he was paralyzed, he would never play again. But I never knew anybody who could be so positive. Before he even got out of the hospital, he was planning to be in the wheelchair Olympics.
All of us were at his wedding to Emma Hoyt. That guy loved her more than anything. Except maybe his kids, three of 'em born around a year apart, boy, girl, boy. He named his youngest son after me and my best friend Petey Jones. Strangely enough, his daughter, sheryl Jean ended up being a better QB than the boy is. Even though he's named for me, a QB. Oh, well... Here I go again, talking too much. Ronnie's more of a nose tackle. And he's a heck of a nose tackle. Especially considering that he just turned 6. But here I go rambling like an old fisherman... Anyway, this was about Bertier, right?
Well, the whole '71 Titans team was there when Gerry won the gold medal in the shotput. He was so proud.
In July of '73, I moved to Columbia, SC to attend USC. The team kept up with each other, but all of us never got completely together again. Me and Bertier talked once in awhile. He even came down to South Carolina to watch me play football as the Gamecocks' starting QB. I don't know what it was, but it was like, I knew I'd made it when Bertier clapped me on the shoulder and said, "Not bad, Sunshine."
I guess it was because Bertier was so good that, if he told me I was good, I knew I was.
I moved to Greenville later to work for ABC. I really loved my job, but I missed Alexandria and my friends. I was OK, though, just knowing they were there if I needed them.
Unfortunately, a few months back, I got a call from Big Julius. He told me that Bertier was gone, and that I needed to get back to Alexandria for the funeral. I caught the first plane back home. Yeah, home. Alexandria will always be home.
Emma and the kids looked worn out. Big Ju looked old. Too old. He's only 28, but he looked, like, 50. Not physically. Just his eyes. Another thing my girlfriend likes about me. I'm very observant.
At the funeral, I felt almost like... I don't know. We lost our brother. One of our own. It felt like...Like if Gerry wasn't safe, none of us were.
When Big Ju started singing, I knew that it was the right thing to do. So I joined in, not knowing that everybody else would, too. We said our final goodbyes to Bertier. So that's it. I hope that helps, kids. But as I said, you can't put Bertier in words. You three had a Daddy to be proud of.
-Ronnie Bass
"Sunshine" #12
Here I sit alone in my bedroom, pen in hand. Big Ju mailed this to me. I'm supposed to write about Gerry Bertier. I have to finish tonight so I can pass it on.
My girlfriend says I have a way with words, so I guess that's a good thing. I just don't know if you can put a guy like Gerry Bertier in words. He was larger than life, certainly larger than words. I would know. I was tackled by him. Alot! No, just kidding. Well, I have been tackled by him alot. But... Oh! Stupid Ronnie! Count on me to make a joke when I'm supposed to be serious. Ah! Can I scratch that remark?
Well, let me try to start over on a more serious note. I don't know if there really was a serious note in my history with Gerry Bertier.
We didn't exactly start off on the right foot. I was a late arrival at training camp. And my hair hung down to my shoulders. So Gerry called from the field, "Hey, fellas! Look at that fruitcake!"
Coach Yoast told him to get back on the field. Boone and Yoast were talking to my dad, so I decided to show Gerry what a "fruitcake" I really was. I picked up a football and made a long pass, targeted at Bertier's back. It hit him. He didn't seem to think that was too funny, but the other guys did. Especially Big Ju Campbell.
I, unfortunately, had to get my haircut. Then we went in the locker room, and Petey Jones, a runningback, named me "Sunshine."
I needed a way to get back at Bertier. Throwing a football at him was one thing, but I decided to let the punishment fit the crime. If he called me a fruitcake, I'd show him just what a fruitcake was. I went over to him, and he asked where Julius was. I told him that he was in the shower. So he asked what I wanted.
I put an "I've-got-it-bad-for-you" look on my face and said, "You know what I want." Then I gave him a big sloppy wet one on the lips. He tried to kill me, probably would have, too. But I didn't let him get his hands on me. He fell and busted his butt.
After camp, I asked him if we were cool. He gave me five and said, "Yeah, we're cool. So we became pretty good friends.
He was the only all-American on the '71 Titans team. He was a great linebacker, and he loved the game. So it was a blow to him when he found out that, because he was paralyzed, he would never play again. But I never knew anybody who could be so positive. Before he even got out of the hospital, he was planning to be in the wheelchair Olympics.
All of us were at his wedding to Emma Hoyt. That guy loved her more than anything. Except maybe his kids, three of 'em born around a year apart, boy, girl, boy. He named his youngest son after me and my best friend Petey Jones. Strangely enough, his daughter, sheryl Jean ended up being a better QB than the boy is. Even though he's named for me, a QB. Oh, well... Here I go again, talking too much. Ronnie's more of a nose tackle. And he's a heck of a nose tackle. Especially considering that he just turned 6. But here I go rambling like an old fisherman... Anyway, this was about Bertier, right?
Well, the whole '71 Titans team was there when Gerry won the gold medal in the shotput. He was so proud.
In July of '73, I moved to Columbia, SC to attend USC. The team kept up with each other, but all of us never got completely together again. Me and Bertier talked once in awhile. He even came down to South Carolina to watch me play football as the Gamecocks' starting QB. I don't know what it was, but it was like, I knew I'd made it when Bertier clapped me on the shoulder and said, "Not bad, Sunshine."
I guess it was because Bertier was so good that, if he told me I was good, I knew I was.
I moved to Greenville later to work for ABC. I really loved my job, but I missed Alexandria and my friends. I was OK, though, just knowing they were there if I needed them.
Unfortunately, a few months back, I got a call from Big Julius. He told me that Bertier was gone, and that I needed to get back to Alexandria for the funeral. I caught the first plane back home. Yeah, home. Alexandria will always be home.
Emma and the kids looked worn out. Big Ju looked old. Too old. He's only 28, but he looked, like, 50. Not physically. Just his eyes. Another thing my girlfriend likes about me. I'm very observant.
At the funeral, I felt almost like... I don't know. We lost our brother. One of our own. It felt like...Like if Gerry wasn't safe, none of us were.
When Big Ju started singing, I knew that it was the right thing to do. So I joined in, not knowing that everybody else would, too. We said our final goodbyes to Bertier. So that's it. I hope that helps, kids. But as I said, you can't put Bertier in words. You three had a Daddy to be proud of.
-Ronnie Bass
"Sunshine" #12