South Carolina’s ACC Basketball Title – Fifty Years Gone By

College Basketball: ACC Tournament: South Carolina John Roche (11) and Kevin Joyce (43) victorious after winning Championship Game vs North Carolina at Greensboro Coliseum. Greensboro, NC 3/13/1971 CREDIT: Bruce Roberts (Photo by Bruce Roberts /Sports Illustrated via Getty Images) (Set Number: X15683 TK1 R8 F15 )

(This Saturday, March 13, 2021, will mark fifty years since South Carolina won its only ACC basketball tournament championship. The following is an excerpt from the forthcoming book, “The Wilderness – University of South Carolina Athletics in the Independent Era”)

It was a Saturday evening, March 13, 1971. Temperatures were warm, in the upper 60’s. Bradford Pears, with their pungent, white blooms, were beginning to flower in Greensboro. Jessamine and Honeysuckle too perfumed the early-evening air as fans of both North and South Carolina made their way, tickets in hand, to the newly renovated Greensboro Coliseum. The air was peaceful, calm, belying the coming storms, both on and off the basketball court. Spring would officially arrive a week later, but winter had a score yet to settle.  

South Carolina finished the 1970-71 regular season second to North Carolina, and as many had predicted, the two schools would meet in the tournament finals. The Gamecocks had dispatched Maryland 71-63 in the opening round and dominated N.C. State 69-56 in the semi-final. Likewise, the Tar Heels had taken care of business, eliminating Clemson and Virginia in rounds one and two.

After a game that saw the Gamecocks struggle mightily from the floor, UNC began to edge ahead late in the second half. With a 46-40 lead at the 4:34 mark, Tar Heel Coach Dean Smith went to his signature “Four Corners” offense, which was not engineered to produce points, rather to milk clock and keep the ball out of the hands of the opposing team.

This was long before the shot clock was implemented in college basketball, and many teams used this strategy to slow down high-powered opposing offenses. Earlier in the season in a game at College Park, Maryland, the Terrapins used a similar strategy to neutralize John Roche and the Gamecocks, resulting in a 4-3 halftime score before things picked up in the second half.

With no shot clock, the Gamecocks were forced to foul. UNC needed only to hit free throws to preserve their lead and escape with a win, something Smith’s Tar Heels had nearly perfected in those years. Remarkably, UNC missed the front end of five one-on-ones down the stretch.  The Gamecocks responded, pulling within a point, 49-48 with 1:04 remaining. UNC’s Lee Dedmon and USC’s John Ribock exchanged free throws and the game was still within a point, 50-49 with 45 seconds left.

After a steal by USC’s Bob Carver resulted in a foul on Ribock’s attempted layup, Ribock made one of two free throws to knot it at 50 with 39 seconds remaining. The Gamecocks missed from the floor and the Tar Heel’s George Karl missed a one-on-one opportunity over the next 18 seconds.

The Tar Heels went up by one, 51-50, but when Karl could not connect on another one-on-one, USC’s Rick Aydlett rebounded with 20 seconds remaining and passed it off to 6’3” guard, Kevin Joyce. As Joyce drove the baseline for a shot he was tied-up by UNC’s 6’10” Dedmon, resulting in a jump ball.

Like the shot clock, the rule of alternating possessions for jump balls was years away, so the much smaller Joyce would have to jump against UNC’s big man Dedmon. To compound the mismatch, Joyce was recovering from a leg injury suffered earlier in the season. Tar Heel fans were planning their post-game celebrations. McGuire claimed he saw a UNC assistant with a pair of scissors for the post-game net cutting.

Following the jump ball, McGuire called a time out with six seconds on the clock. Given the mismatch on the jump ball, USC had no realistic expectation of controlling the tip. McGuire used the timeout to talk through strategies for stealing the ball after Dedmon controlled the tap. McGuire’s main bit of coaching advice to Joyce was to “jump to the moon, kid”.

During the timeout, tension mounted in the arena. UNC and USC pep bands alternated fight songs, filling the air with the strains of brass and a drumming battle rhythm. Confident Tar Heel fans awaited another title. Gamecock fans, agonized through the timeout, hoping for a miracle while bracing for the familiar gut punch of disappointment. Not a soul left their seats. The horn sounded and officials summoned the teams to the floor. Six seconds.

The teams came out of the timeout and took their places for the jump. Joyce could sense that Dedmon may have been a little complacent. He also noticed that, perhaps assuming Dedmon would control the tip, no UNC players lined up between the Gamecock’s 6’10” Tom Owens and the basket. As the official tossed the ball up, Joyce jumped “like he had springs in his legs”, managing to tip the ball to an unopposed Owens, who deftly wheeled around and laid the ball off the glass and into the basket, putting the Gamecocks up 52-51. As the final two seconds ticked away, UNC could not get a shot off and South Carolina held on to claim their first and only ACC Tournament Championship.

Pandemonium ensued among the Gamecock faithful. Radioman Bob Fulton, described the jubilation of the moment as the garnet-clad Gamecocks rushed the court in celebration – “…the ballgame is all over – they’re going wild on the court!” South Carolina partisans among the 15,170 inside Greensboro Coliseum were left jubilant, if emotionally drained after the dramatic finish.

South Carolina, by virtue of winning the tournament, went onto represent the ACC in the NCAA tournament, which included only 25 teams at the time. USC was slotted in the East Regional, which was played before a hostile and vocally anti-Gamecock crowd in Raleigh’s Reynolds Coliseum. The Gamecocks were matched against a powerful University of Pennsylvania team, which had won 27 straight games and was ranked 3rd in the nation.

The partisan ACC crowd cheered, not the ACC Champion, but for Penn, illustrating the bitterness that had developed between USC and the other ACC members.

Further illustrating that bitterness was end-of-season voting for ACC Coach of the Year and Player of the Year, which revealed strident anti-Gamecock sentiment among the North Carolina-dominated voting media. McGuire, in spite of winning the ACC Championship and guiding his team to an ACC-leading 6th place finish in national polls, did not factor into voting. UNC’s Smith won out, with Virginia’s Bill Gibson placing second. John Roche was denied a third straight Player of the Year recognition, as media members curiously voted 86-30 for Wake Forest’s Charlie Davis over Roche. This, despite South Carolina’s 20 and 15 point wins over Wake in the regular season.

Roche was selected a first team All-American by UPI and Basketball Weekly, among others, and was selected first team by NBA coaches for the annual College All-Star squad, while Davis was named neither first or second team.

In a disappointing NCAA tournament showing, South Carolina went into halftime down just a point, but Penn dominated the second half to win going away, 79-64. The NCAA Tournament hosted consolation games in those days, and the Gamecocks came up short in that one as well, losing a high-scoring affair to Fordham, by a score of 100-90.

The loss to Fordham was South Carolina’s final Basketball game as a member of the ACC. Though they would compete in conference play in baseball that spring, the Gamecocks would leave the ACC officially on August 15 of that year, a mere five months after their greatest triumph in Greensboro.

More from Gamecock great Jimmy Foster on life, his career, and Gamecock sports

Over the last few months, I had the opportunity to catch up with Gamecock basketball legend, Jimmy Foster about his South Carolina roots, USC career and his often complex post-basketball life. These were the first interviews he had conducted in nearly a quarter century, and he claims they will be his last.

The first two parts were published here and here on The following are additional thoughts and observations from the Gamecock legend, on Carolina sports, his career and life.

On following Gamecock sports: “I follow all South Carolina athletics – football, women’s basketball, I follow it all. I love the women’s program. What they have done is amazing. She (Coach Dawn Staley) came in with a plan and that look in her eyes, and she got them (the team) to buy into it. And wow, you know, we’re the new Connecticut. To see 18,000 pack in to see a women’s game, that’s freaking awesome.”

On the South Carolina men’s Final Four run of 2017: “There’s gotta be a little pixie dust mixed in. There’s got to be a little magic. Everything’s got to line up, you know? That was fun to watch. Thornwell… guys like that will put you on their back and that was what he did. And they’ll remember that forever.”

On his playing style: “When I played, I wore my emotions on my sleeve. Thats the way I was in every day life too, which is not always a good thing. But that was the way I played, and when I got on the court, I didn’t care who was in front of me or anything else. I was going to do whatever it took to win.”

On his notorious struggles at the free throw line: “I was better with three people hanging on me, but all of a sudden, now I gotta stop, you know, and the game stops, and that wasn’t my thing. I had to be moving. I had to keep going.” (Foster ranks 3rd all-time for free throws attempted (770), and 5th for free throws made (389), for a .505 average).

On former South Carolina basketball coach Frank McGuire: “Coach McGuire was, and still is to this day, my idol. I respected that man more than anything else in the world. I think he should have been able to stay as long as he wanted to, win, lose or draw, for what he did for the South Carolina program.”

On former South Carolina baseball coach June Raines: “I love that man to death. I used to hang out with the (baseball) team and catch pop flies. I love baseball, and was probably a better baseball player than basketball. I don’t think Raines gets enough credit for what he did with the program. Tanner took it to the next level, but Raines had the program rolling in the 1980s.

On the South Carolina, Clemson rivalry: “When we’re not playing Clemson, I pull for Clemson. That’s a South Carolina team. I hope they kick Alabama’s ass every time.”

On the thought of going back for an alumni game: “There was one time when I was a player, and they brought some of the former players back. Kevin Joyce was there and he walked out and waved and everything. And he looked at me and he said ‘I hate this shit’. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I understand it now. I don’t want to go out there unless I can do what I did then. I know I can’t, and it frustrates me to no end that I can’t do what I used to. I mean, in my mind, I still think I can.”

On living at The Roost (USC’s athletic dormitories) in the early 1980’s: “We all (athletes from different sports) hung out together. You know, I remember we all sat in the TV room and watched Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ video when it first came out – that sticks out to me for some reason. It was a real close-knit community. That was our domain – for student-athletes only. We ate there, we lived there, we all interacted with each other.”

On running workouts during his senior season: “We would run from the Coliseum down towards Olympia and back. Me and Gerald Perry, who was a freshman and also a member of the football team, we would be in the back and we would cut out at Todd & Moore Sporting Goods on Huger Street. We’d hang out there for a bit, then rejoin the run when the team came back by. And for some reason, they never caught on.”

On turning 60 in January (2021): “You know, that four years in college, you think when you first get there four years is a long time. Oh my lord, that’s just a whiff. I mean just a breath and it was gone. And now I’m gonna be 60.”

On his place in program history and legacy at South Carolina: “I didn’t realize I had any stats left. I mean, that was a long time ago. Being named among the top ten in USC Basketball history (by The State newspaper), that’s flattering. I had a good run. I was a good college player in the right place at the right time. Its flattering to know that there are still people who give a crap about Jimmy Foster. That’s nice, you know? That feels good to hear. Would I like to go back? Yeah, just once. I used to say no, but that’s not true. I’d love to go back just one time. I just want to see Frank’s old place (the Carolina Coliseum). I just want to walk around there.”

Odd Times at the Odd Fellows Tract, Part II

Additional Perspective on the Historical and Cultural Significance of William B. Umstead State Park and the Odd Fellows Tract

Last week, I reviewed the ongoing struggle over the Odd Fellows tract – 105 acres of publicly owned, forested habitat, which directly borders Old Reedy Creek Road in William B. Umstead State Park. The years-long struggle pits the RDU Airport Authority (RDUAA) and Wake Stone Corporation against preservation groups, adjacent landowners, and private citizens determined to save this forested ecosystem from an ugly fate. The purpose of this installment is not to rehash those points, which can be found here, but to further delve into the historical and cultural significance of the Odd Fellows tract, as well as Umstead State Park, which is at great risk from the proposed new quarry.

For most who have biked, hiked or run through the jewel that is Umstead State Park, the history of this land may not be front of mind. It is easy to become lost in that endorphin fueled reverie common to those of us who calibrate the miles via landmarks just as easily as through our Garmins. A bend in the trail here, water fountain there, a lake, an old family cemetery, a hill… good Lord, those hills. We know this park intimately, at least the frequently traveled parts. But not everyone is privy to the deep history of the place. The more observant visitors among us might glimpse an occasional stone chimney just off the trail through winter-bare trees, standing sentry over a long-abandoned home site. These glimpses hint at the history, but there is so much more than meets the eye.

A farming community transformed

The area now encompassesing Umstead State Park, was populated as early as 1800, as small farms sprung up in the area around Crabtree Creek in northwestern Wake County. By 1810, Anderson Page, an early entrepreneur and industrialist established a water-powered mill on Crabtree Creek, known first as Page’s Mill, then Company Mill. Other mills populated the area, including the George Lynn Mill on Sycamore Creek (1871), and a later mill on Reedy Creek.

Wake County residents traveled from miles around along Old Middle Hillsboro Road – an early precursor to present-day Highway 70 – then south along Mill Road to Crabtree Creek to ground corn and catch up on local gossip. The Company Mill was in operation until the 1920’s and then largely washed away during a great flood in the 1930’s. Portions of a dam wall built at the mill site are still visible along the southern banks of Crabtree Creek within the park.

As farms populated the area, forests of oak and pine were largely cleared for fields. Early farming was marginally successful, but poor cultivation practices led to soil depletion and erosion. Depression-era farmers made futile attempts to grow cotton in the worn-out soil around Crabtree Creek, but by the early 1930’s, landowners in the grip of financial ruin were bought out under the Resettlement Administration (RA), a federal agency created under the New Deal which relocated struggling urban and rural families to communities planned by the federal government. Through that process, in 1934 federal and state agencies combined to purchase 5,000 acres of sub-marginal land to develop a recreation area. Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) and Works Progress Administration (WPA) work crews, largely staffed by North Carolinians, built facilities including Camp Sycamore on Sycamore Lake, and other campsites.

By 1943, with World War II underway and New Deal programs winding down, the State of North Carolina purchased this area, known as Crabtree Creek Recreation Area, for $1. The area was later named Crabtree Creek State Park.

The legacy of Jim Crow

Crabtree Creek State Park was segregated from the outset, with Camp Whispering Pines designated for African Americans on a pond at Reedy Creek. By 1950, one thousand acres of Crabtree Creek State Park was designated for use by African Americans, and named Reedy Creek State Park. The white entrance to Crabtree Creek was located off of Highway 70 in the north, while the black entrance to Reedy Creek was located to the south, at the terminus of Cary’s Harrison Avenue.

The two parks were separated by the meandering Crabtree Creek which bisects the park roughly west to east. While this fixed boundary demarcated the space, fording at any number of points could easily breach the boundary. To make the separation more durable, stands of forest were often employed. Writing about improvements to the parks in 1950, the Raleigh News & Observer provided a perverse note of reassurance to white parents that a large forested buffer would separate the white and African American youth camps, stating that the two camps would be more than a mile apart at the Crabtree Creek dividing line.

Reedy Creek State Park was one of just two facilities operated by the state park system designated for African American use, the other being Jones Lake State Park in Bladen County, southeast of Fayetteville. A third park, Hammocks Beach State Park was planned for minority use after it was donated to the state in 1961 by an association of African American teachers, however the park opened to all people following the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

In 1955, Crabtree Creek State Park was renamed for late Governor William B. Umstead, an advocate of environmentally friendly legislation who had recently died in office. In 1966, the two state parks were joined under the name William B. Umstead State Park, and both sections opened to all people. To this day, there is no road connecting the former white entrance at Highway 70, and the former black entrance at Harrison Avenue – a subtle reminder of the dark history of Jim Crow.

Odd Fellows and Foxcroft Lake

Over the decades, the Odd Fellows tract and other forested lands around the borders of Umstead have been used much like the park itself, for recreation and enjoyment of the outdoors. The Fraternal Order of Odd Fellows purchased their tract of land in 1958 and made it available to local Boy Scout troops for monthly meetings and overnight camps along the shores of Foxcroft Lake.  

As Raleigh evolved from a sleepy Southern capital to a thriving metropolitan city, land use and availability became a greater concern. The Research Triangle, which was founded in 1959 and named for the three anchoring research institutions, NC State University in Raleigh, the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill and Duke University in Durham. This venture, led by politicians, university officials and business leaders, sought to transform the economy of the Piedmont region away from the traditional, yet fading industries of textiles and farming, and toward a new focus on technological innovation and development. By the mid 1960’s, these efforts picked up steam, jobs followed, and the population increased at a historic rate.

Sensing the need to secure bordering properties against the threat of incompatible industrial encroachment, North Carolina State Parks published a Master Plan for Umstead State Park in 1974. The plan contained a land acquisition strategy, which called for obtaining 916 additional acres of land in three phases along the borders of the park. The plan also called for deleting 186 acres along Turkey Creek, on the east side of Ebenezer Church Road, roughly the location of the Hamptons at Umstead neighborhood today. The net total of 730 acres proposed for acquisition included land between Umstead and I-40 where the current Wake Stone quarry sits, and the Odd Fellows tract immediately to the west.

The plan noted that most of the proposed lands need not be acquired if legally binding assurances could be made by landowners guaranteeing existing land uses would remain indefinitely. Such assurances could be secured by scenic easements that would exclude land uses incompatible with the park, including high-density residential, commercial or industrial development, or timber clear-cutting.

During this time, an expanding RDU Airport just to the west of Umstead also sought to secure its borders and acquire land for future expansion. Just two years after the publication of the Umstead Master Plan, the Fraternal Order of Odd Fellows and other landowners sold their properties along the southern border of Umstead to the four municipalities – the cities of Raleigh and Durham, and the counties of Wake and Durham. The sales were coerced, as the municipalities sought to secure land for use by the RDU Airport Authority. The landowners chose to sell in order to avoid loss of the property by eminent domain.

Even after the forced sale of Odd Fellows in 1976, the tract remained a de facto extension of Umstead, with continued use by local Boy Scout troops. With the rise of mountain biking in the 1990s and 00’s, trails were developed along this tract as well as the adjacent “286” tract. These uses were compatible with a state park, and provided enhanced access to trails and outdoor activities for Triangle residents.

East Coast Greenway

The East Coast Greenway (ECG), an ambitious 3,000 mile hiking and biking route which connects hundreds of greenway and hiking trail systems from Maine to Florida, runs through Umstead State Park along the Reedy Creek Trail, and along Old Reedy Creek Road south of the park. In a 2017 study of the economic impact of the ECG on the area, it was estimated that the Triangle region enjoys $90 million annual in total benefits from gains in health, the environment, transportation and enhanced access. The ECG runs literally within yards of the proposed new Wake Stone quarry.

If Wake Stone is approved for a new quarry pit, access to the ECG and Umstead along Old Reedy Creek Road would effectively be cut off for an extended period of time, if not permanently. 500 dump trucks a day would roll along that road while the tract is deforested, until Wake Stone’s proposed bridge is completed over Crabtree Creek. Given the noise, the danger of truck traffic, the threat of lung disorders from airborne particulate matter, and the peril of fly rock generated from such a quarry, would the ECG and it’s significant economic impact be enhanced or diminished by a new quarry?

An opportunity to get things right

The leaders of our local municipalities and regulatory bodies have a unique and fleeting opportunity to protect public land for the enjoyment of current and future generations of Triangle residents, property owners and taxpayers. They have an opportunity to enhance North Carolina’s most visited state park, and bolster the Triangle’s reputation as a legitimate destination for hiking, biking and all manner of outdoor activities.

They have an opportunity to honor generations of farming families who called this land home as far back as the early 1800’s. To memorialize the generations of African American residents who found solace in Reedy Creek State Park during the dark chapter of Jim Crow. And to commemorate the generations of Boy Scouts who developed skills, self confidence and character along the shores of Foxcroft Lake. It is a rare opportunity to protect an asset which brings tens of millions of dollars in annual benefits to this region.

This moment is much larger than the 105 acres in question. This moment will define who we are and what we value as a community, and as a society. We have an opportunity to get things right, and the choice between right and wrong has rarely been more evident.

Please contact your local city and county representatives, your legislators, Congressmen, the Governor, and members of the RDUAA and NCDEQ and let your voices be heard. Because on this Independence Day, we the people have an opportunity too.

African American Boy Scouts at Reedy Creek State Park – NC State Parks archives

For additional reading on the history of Umstead:

Odd Times at the Odd Fellows Tract

“Providing science-based environmental stewardship for the health, safety and prosperity of ALL North Carolinians.” – North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality (NCDEQ)– Mission Statement

stewardship (stoo-erd-ship): 2. the responsible overseeing and protection of something considered worth caring for or preserving –

For a regulatory body guided by such lofty ideals, it would seem a foregone conclusion that public land immediately adjacent a state park would not be suitable for a rock quarry. Certainly not if said park happened to be the most visited in the entire North Carolina State Park system, with nearly two million annual visitors. Certainly, given all the measurable deleterious environmental and public health impacts wrought by such a quarry, and the swiftly dwindling public green spaces available to Triangle residents, such a quarry would be rightly seen as a nuisance at best, and at worst, potentially ruinous to the state park system’s crown jewel. Surely, given that the quarry would compromise the health, safety, and prosperity of North Carolinians, such a circumspect regulatory body would summarily dismiss the mining permit in question.

Well, it’s complicated.

How we got here

The Odd Fellows tract as it is known, is a 105-acre parcel of land immediately adjacent to William B. Umstead State Park, along Reedy Creek trail. The parcel is bordered roughly by Umstead Park to the north, I-40 to the south, Lake Crabtree County Park to the west, and the current Wake Stone Corporation quarry to the east. This tract of public land was deeded to four local governments – Wake County, Durham County, the City of Raleigh and the City of Durham, in a July, 1976 transfer from the Sir Raleigh Lodge 411 of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows to those governmental entities.

RDU Airport Authority (RDUAA) manages this land on behalf of the owning municipalities under legislation passed by the North Carolina General Assembly following that 1976 sale. NC General Statute 63.56(f), states:

“no real property and no airport, other air navigation facility, or air protection privilege, owned jointly, shall be disposed of by the board (i.e. RDUAA), by sale, or otherwise, except by authority of the appointed governing bodies, but the board may lease space, area or improvements and grant concessions on airports for aeronautical purposes or purposes incidental thereto.”

This 105 acre parcel of land has been the focus of a years-long struggle between a private corporation bent on expanding operations and private citizens organizing to save not just the 105 acres, but the sanctity of Umstead State Park, and the rights of impacted landowners. This struggle unfolds in fits and starts while the governing bodies that own this public land sit strangely quiet.

In 1980, Wake Stone Corporation initially submitted an application for a mining permit for a tract just east of Odd Fellows, where their current mine is now in operation. That original permit was initially denied by the NCDEQ, which cited the “combined effects of noise, sedimentation, dust, traffic and blasting vibration associated with the proposed quarry and the impacts upon William B. Umstead State Park.”

What followed was an appeal by Wake Stone and a series of reviews by various state agencies, including NCDEQ and North Carolina State Parks. Ultimately, the mining permit was approved in 1981 with a few caveats, including a substantial buffer between the quarry pit and Umstead, a donation to the State Park system, and a clause in the permit which would effectively sunset mining operations within 50 years, or ten years after active mining ceases, whichever of those comes sooner.

The “sooner” verbiage in that 50 Year Sunset Clause would effectively halt operations by Wake Stone in 2031 at the latest, at which time the land would be turned over to the State of North Carolina.

Over the next 37 years, Wake Stone filed numerous renewals for this mining permit with no alteration to the 50 Year Sunset Clause. However, in March 2018, Wake Stone filed a mining permit modification, which substituted the “sooner” language with “later”, effectively negating the 50 Year Sunset Clause, and enabling mining and possibly even expansion into perpetuity. This modification was completed by NCDEQ staff under the supervision of an Interim DEQ Director, William “Toby” Vinson without the requisite Permit Modification Application or fees. Neither North Carolina State Parks, nor affected landowners and businesses were consulted about the change. 

Subsequently, RDUAA entered into a mineral lease with Wake Stone Corporation on Friday, March 1, 2019 with 48 hours of public notice. The “lease” would allow Wake Stone to create a new rock quarry pit within the 105-acre publicly owned Odd Fellows tract. This lease was completed without the consultation or approval of the owning municipalities, and with little to no window for public comment.

Make no mistake, this agreement is not a lease in any realistic sense of the word. Imagine leasing a car, and returning it to the dealer at the end of the lease period with the wheels, seats, engine and dashboard removed. Moreover, imagine the dealer agreeing to the removal of those items at the outset of the lease. It is unimaginable because that is not how leases work. Such is the jaded and farcical nature of RDUAA’s agreement with Wake Stone.

The Public Responds

Following the RDUAA/Wake Stone lease, the Umstead Coalition and Triangle Off-Road Cyclists, as well as adjacent landowners Randy and Tamara Dunn and Wake County resident Bill Doucette filed a lawsuit against the RDUAA and Wake Stone Corporation with the following requests:

  • Municipalities must provide approval for disposal of their mineral rights – this approval has not been obtained.
  • The RDUAA has exceeded their authority granted by the State Legislature.
  • The signed lease of March 1, 2019 is not valid, and therefore should be nullified until the governing bodies approve the sale of their mineral rights.

Meanwhile, The Conservation Fund, a non-profit environmental preservation group based in Arlington, VA, offered $6.46 million to purchase the Odd Fellows tract and donate the land to William B. Umstead State Park. RDUAA declined this offer, citing the wildly optimistic potential for $24 million in revenue from the Wake Stone lease over two decades. However, that amount is not stipulated in the lease. Wake Stone only guarantees $8.5 million in back-loaded payments, and the present value of the lease is $4.6 million.

What could explain RDUAA’s decision to 1) enter into an unlawful lease – and 2) decline a $6.46 million lump sum sale in lieu of a lease valued at $4.6 million to be paid in installments over 20 years? Can you say good ole boy politics?

John Bratton, the founder of Wake Stone Corporation, as well as his sons, John, Jr (Vice Chairman of the Board of Wake Stone), Theodore Bratton (CEO) and Samuel Bratton (President), have made tens of thousands of dollars in political donations to various campaigns, both Democratic and Republican over the decades. It would appear those donations have purchased the silence of the owning municipalities, run by politicians who have been the beneficiaries of Bratton largesse over the years. The Brattons are now calling in those favors in an effort to expand their quarry operations onto public land.

Where we are, and next steps

In April 2020, Wake Stone Corporation filed a mining permit application for the Odd Fellows tract. A public hearing was held by the NCDEQ on Tuesday, June 23, 2020, which included over 570 virtual attendees and 78 speakers over the course of several hours, all of whom used their allotted two minutes to speak out against the expanded quarry, with the lone exception of Wake Stone’s Samuel Bratton. The attendance was so great that the hearing was adjourned after 10pm and an overflow hearing was scheduled for July 7, 2020.

From the standpoint of environmental impact and quality of life for Triangle area residents, the idea of a quarry expansion onto the Odd Fellows tract should be a non-starter.

Wake Stone seeks to cart away 105 acres of forested habitat, topsoil and stone at a rate of up to 500 truckloads per day in an area immediately adjacent to William B. Umstead State Park. Visitors to the park would not only be subjected to the nerve-jangling cacophony of 500 dump trucks rolling daily along Old Reedy Creek Road, but to airborne particulate matter, including silicate, which, when inhaled can lead to silicosis – a permanent scarring of the lungs. There is no Federal regulation limiting non-workplace exposure to silica. Mine workers would be equipped with PPE. Runners, mountain bikers and other unwitting park users? They would be on their own and highly vulnerable.

There is also the peril of fly rock, which are rock fragments from blasting which fly beyond the blast site, potentially causing injury and property damage. With virtually no buffer zone between the proposed quarry expansion and Umstead State Park, this would present a potentially lethal peril. Seismic damage from blasts can and do cause damage to nearby homes as well. There is a reason for land use restrictions and zoning, which typically prevent incompatible commercial and industrial operations like mining from locating next to state parks.

And then there is the long-term impact of an expanded quarry. Wake Stone has attempted to paint a rosy picture of a public lake which would be left in the aftermath of mining operations decades from now. In reality, the Odd Fellows tract – currently forested habitat supporting a thriving ecosystem – would be a 400-foot hole in the ground. The pit would not flush itself naturally as would a normal body of water, which would result in a fetid pool of runoff water, stagnant and inaccessible to the public due to the vertical nature of the rock face. No beach, no public use, just a nuisance and a liability which would need to be permanently cordoned off and monitored at great expense to the owning municipalities long after the rapacious Brattons have made off with their millions from the destruction of publicly owned land.

The NCDEQ has an opportunity to stop this environmental and ethical catastrophe in the making. The history of Odd Fellows is being recorded day by day, and the legacies of the NCDEQ board will be inextricably tied to that history. Will those legacies speak to the principled preservation of public land and upholding the lofty ideals of their mission statement? Or will they speak to feckless catering to moneyed interests and a 400-foot hole in the ground?

For additional reading and viewing:

Attend the July 7, 2020 public hearing!

Foxcroft Lake on the Odd Fellows tract

Any Port in a Storm – South Carolina and the Metro Conference Experiment

“The Metro is not merely the best option for the moment, it is the only one.”

 Herman Helms – Sports Editor, The State


Almost from the moment USC left the Atlantic Coast Conference in August 1971, there was a push from Frank McGuire for a return to conference affiliation. The preference was an all-sports conference – namely a return to the Atlantic Coast Conference, or the Southeastern Conference. Given South Carolina’s history as a founding member of the ACC, and the geographical proximity to member institutions in both conferences, those two options made sense on paper, and certainly from an aspirational standpoint. But when Georgia Tech accepted an invitation to membership in the ACC in 1978, the door effectively closed on South Carolina’s chances of a return to the ACC. The SEC meanwhile was content and stable with ten members. A withdrawal of any team from either conference seemed highly unlikely.

Yet, the University of South Carolina increasingly found its Major Independent status a hindrance in all sports other than football. Men’s basketball particularly suffered from decreased fan interest and attendance, as well as prospects for future invitations to the NCAA Tournament. USC sorely needed a conference home.

In the early 1970s, St. Louis University Athletic Director Larry Albus envisioned the formation of a new athletic conference – one focused on basketball – whose membership would be comprised of schools from large metropolitan cities across the upper South. By June 1975, Albus’ vision had become a reality with the formation of the Metropolitan Athletic Conference. Founding members included Cincinnati, Georgia Tech, Louisville, Memphis State (now Memphis), St. Louis and Tulane. The fledgling conference was known less formally as the “Metro Six.”

Florida State joined the Metro in 1976, becoming the seventh member. When Georgia Tech left to join the ACC two years later, the Metro promptly returned to seven members with the addition of Virginia Tech. Founding member St. Louis withdrew its membership in 1982, but the league was once again restored to seven members with the addition of Southern Mississippi later that year. Indeed, the geographical footprint of the conference was expanding, and the movement of member institutions foreshadowed a more widespread fluctuation in NCAA conference affiliation in the decades to come.

The University of South Carolina seemed a highly desirable fit from Albus’ perspective, upon being named the conference’s first commissioner in 1975. Albus pursued USC through informal conversations, and by August 1979 he extended a formal solicitation for USC to consider joining the league. In an August 3, 1979 interview with United Press International, Albus stated: “We have always had a strong interest in South Carolina since the inception of the conference. We’ve talked quite a bit with the basketball office and they seem interested. I sent a formal request for them to consider the conference and contact me if interested.” Albus’ reference to “the basketball office” could mean nothing other than McGuire himself.

There was strong and vocal interest from some segments of Gamecock Nation. The Columbia Tipoff Club – a USC Basketball booster club unaffiliated with the University but closely associated with Coach Frank McGuire was the most vocal. On Sunday, August 5, 1979, the Tipoff Club placed a full page ad in The State with the bold headline ‘ATTENTION: GAMECOCK SUPPORTERS’ – the ad went on to state that the club endorsed USC’s affiliation with the “Metro 7 Conference”, and urged fans to let their “…feelings be known immediately to the USC Board of Trustees” before an upcoming BOT meeting on Thursday of that week.

What followed in fine print was an elaborate series of questions and answers designed to inform the public and place pressure on the BOT to consider the Metro Conference invitation. It included quotes supporting conference affiliation from USC head coaches, including women’s basketball coach Pam Parsons and Baseball Coach June Raines. Also included were quotes from various Metro coaches extolling the virtues of the conference and expressing heartfelt wishes for South Carolina’s addition.

The ad ended with a final plea: “The Time Is Urgent – If we cannot get the Board of Trustees to look into the Metro 7 on Thursday, the opportunity may be gone for this year and for many years to come.” At the bottom of the ad was a cut out petition titled Our Plea to the Board, which could be signed and mailed into the Tipoff Club.

McGuire’s desire for Metro membership was pragmatic. With more attractive options momentarily out of reach, the Metro provided the opportunity to shore up his ailing basketball program with the establishment of new rivalries. “I don’t say that games with Metro teams will be as exciting to our fans in the beginning as games with North Carolina, Duke or N.C. State,” McGuire said, “but I believe we could cultivate good rivalries with some of the outstanding Metro teams over a period of years.” Indeed, the conference boasted two elite basketball programs in Louisville and Memphis State. A McGuire-led USC, even half a decade removed from its prime, would only add excitement and prestige to the Metro.

McGuire was not alone in his advocacy for Metro affiliation. Baseball coach June Raines said he liked “…the idea of being able to play for a conference championship”, and “…especially like the advantage which conference affiliation gives a school for the playoffs.” Indeed, the NCAA Tournament selection process in recent years had shifted toward awarding bids to conference-affiliated teams rather than independents with better records. USC swimming coach Scott Woodburn added: “Conference membership would give more incentive to our athletes. It would add some identification to the program. I’m in favor of conference affiliation.” Woodburn went on to say, with a hint of resignation, “The Metro 7 would be fine, but only because there is no alternative. By that, I mean I would prefer the ACC or the Southeastern Conference.”

During the summer of 1979 some speculation swirled that Vanderbilt was considering a withdrawal from the SEC, given its struggles to compete in football. This gave some Gamecock fans a glimmer of hope for membership there, and created a short-lived buzz on local sports talk shows. During an interview with a Columbia radio station in August, 1979, SEC Commissioner Hootie Ingram put those rumors to rest, citing Vanderbilt’s competitiveness in basketball, and its ability to consistently sell out its 15,000-seat arena despite an enrollment of just 7,000. “I can’t imagine the Commodores wanting to end relations with the SEC rivals who help them fill all those seats.” Ingram said, and Vandy withdrawal talk quickly faded.

The talk of conference affiliation had exacerbated the rift between athletic director and head football coach Jim Carlen and McGuire. Carlen was most comfortable as an Independent, and that feeling was not unique to his tenure at South Carolina. Carlen was instrumental in leading West Virginia University out of the Southern Conference into Major Independent status in 1968, during his tenure as head football coach there. Carlen then left WVU following the 1969 season for Texas Tech.

Since Metro affiliation did not include competition in football, proponents argued, membership in that conference was a win-win for the entire athletic department. Football could remain an Independent, while the other programs, most notably basketball, would most certainly benefit from conference affiliation.

There were other arguments articulated by proponents, which highlighted Metro 7 benefits. Given the energy crisis of the late 1970s, travel costs were a major source of concern for athletic departments across the country. Conference play in the Metro would serve to decrease travel costs, as teams would most certainly travel less than they had as independents. Scheduling would also be much easier, with 12 regular-season contests against conference competition each season. The trouble with the Metro 7, according to The State’s sports editor Herman Helms was that “…a move into the conference seems so logical that the wishy-washy Board of Trustees may not make it.”

University President James Holderman commented in an August 22, 1979 interview with The State that the USC Board of Trustees desired to see the Gamecocks in a conference, which has both athletic and academic quality. Further, Holderman expressed the belief that the BOT wanted Carolina to be in a full and comprehensive conference, meaning an “all-sports” conference. Holderman, elaborated that the Metro Conference did not enjoy that status at that time, and predicted that it would be some time before it did.

In an effort to control the narrative, Metro Commissioner Albus released comments a few days later, stating while the door was still open for expansion, it was too late for USC to join the conference for the 1979-80 school year due to scheduling difficulties. Thus ended the initial round of talks between the Metro Conference and South Carolina. It would not be the last.


Earlier Efforts to Rejoin ACC Stumble Out of the Gate

 Talk of a South Carolina/ACC détente sputtered along in fits and starts between 1971 and 1978, when the ACC invited Georgia Tech rather than USC to become its eigth member. In May of 1975, the USC Board of Trustees authorized University President James Patterson to engage in negotiations with ACC Commissioner Bob James. Talk picked up momentum in January, 1976, and the topic of reunification appeared to be on the verge of serious consideration by the ACC. President Patterson noted in an article in The Gamecock student newspaper that USC would apply for readmission prior to the ACC’s winter meeting February 10-12 in Greensboro. However, in a follow-up article in The Gamecock, Patterson reversed field, noting, “enthusiasm had begun to wane for us getting back into the ACC.” Patterson went on to state that although the matter would not be taken up during the ACC’s February meetings, the possibility remained that it would be addressed during meetings in May, by which time the ACC’s expansion committee would have made a determination on its plans. “We are not going to submit a formal application until we can see what definite plans the ACC has for expansion, Patterson said.

By April, it had become painfully obvious that ACC re-entry for South Carolina would be a long shot. In an April 8, 1976 Associated Press article, a number of conference athletic directors gave tepid commentary on the topic of expansion in general, and South Carolina in particular. USC, or any school, would need affirmative votes from five of the seven schools to attain ACC membership. By this time, both South Carolina and Virginia Tech had expressed strong interest in joining the league. East Carolina University, too, in an effort to bolster its athletic profile, had announced plans to leave the Southern Conference and apply for admission in the ACC. While South Carolina received support from Clemson and N.C. State, and Virginia Tech received support from Virginia, other member schools demurred.

“We have no burning desire for expansion,” Wake Forest’s Gene Hooks was quoted as saying. “I believe the membership is satisfied right now with seven (members), said Bill Cobey of North Carolina. Jim Kehoe of Maryland expressed a desire for better “geographic balance” within the league, which would make entry from any North or South Carolina school a non-starter in his perspective. Duke’s Carl James noted concerns with further diluting distribution of coveted ACC Basketball Tournament tickets by the addition of an eighth member. Notably, James mentioned that Georgia Tech would be “a better addition than any other school.”

Indeed, on May 19, 1976, during their meeting in Myrtle Beach, ACC athletic directors established criteria for any school seeking entry into the ACC. While specifics were not released immediately, ACC officials were clear that entry into the league would require an “equity payment,” in addition to meeting other criteria both academic and athletic. Said Commissioner James, “Quite frankly, the terms we set for admission might not be acceptable to certain schools seeking admission.”

Indeed, South Carolina did find those terms a non-starter. The substantial equity payment, which was as high as $400,000 (1.5 million), was viewed as a particularly ungracious approach. Other perceived slights included a questionnaire sent to USC President Patterson, which included generic questions about USC’s student enrollment, sports programs and the City of Columbia. Five years removed from its status as a founding member of the ACC, many at South Carolina found this galling.

This period also marked the nadir of political and institutional stability within the athletic department. Following Paul Dietzel’s resignation as head football coach and athletic director in 1974, the board of trustees expressed its intention to separate those two posts. At the same time, supporters of Frank McGuire lobbied the board to hire him as athletic director. In an effort to maneuver around the delicate egos within the athletic department, the board created a tangled web of administration, in which President Patterson essentially functioned as athletic director. New head football coach Carlen and McGuire were named associate athletic directors, and were given total control over their programs. Harold “Bo” Hagen, a department administrator and Gamecock football letterman, was given the official title of athletic director, although he had no authority over football or basketball – only the “minor” or non-revenue sports. It was this unorthodox arrangement with no strong AD to unify the department, which sowed unprecedented dysfunction. Carolina had created a three-headed administrative monster. Relations between Carlen and McGuire eventually deteriorated to the point where the two men did not speak.

Adding to the general dysfunction was a Board of Trustees with members sharply divided along pro-ACC and anti-ACC ideologies. Students and fans were divided as well, with Carlen backers and McGuire backers firmly entrenched respectively in “for” or “against” camps. Ultimately, the anti-ACC faction within the board won out. Their obstinacy was bolstered to a large degree by the by the ungracious approach of the ACC, which served to open old wounds. Board Chairman T. Eston Marchant lamented that his “greatest mistake” was allowing Dietzel to lead the University out of the ACC. He believed the split had hurt USC’s reputation, and the chaotic environment within the athletic department made that point inarguable.

Despite sporadic revivals of ACC talk in the media and among fans, any hope of membership had all but evaporated by the late 1970s. When Georgia Tech joined the ACC in 1978, bringing with it the burgeoning Atlanta television market, the ACC soon signed a lucrative media contract which guaranteed each school $1.5 million annually. Whatever marginal support USC may have enjoyed within the ACC all but evaporated, as member institutions did not wish to dilute that money. Carolina found itself tossed about in a sea of institutional and administrative upheaval, a once proud basketball program on the decline, and with no safe (or acceptable) port in sight.


Friends Come And Go, But Enemies Accumulate

Despite the Board of Trustees stated intentions to separate the positions of head football coach and athletic director, politics still held sway. By 1976, in an effort to streamline the bewildering complex of athletic administration, the board named Carlen athletic director, giving him control over all sports except the basketball program. McGuire kept his associate athletic director title and control over basketball. Bo Hagan’s responsibilities shifted from the athletic department to the newly formed alumni association. Streamlined, yes. Simplified, no. The new arrangement still left the University president in charge of coordinating the athletic program and managing the egos of both Carlen and McGuire.

By this time, McGuire’s relations with Sol Blott, Sr. and Jr. – onetime McGuire allies – had soured. Though the Blatts were no longer Speaker of the House or on the Board of Trustees, respectively, they still maintained an outsized influence over University affairs generally and Gamecock athletics specifically. The Blatts had aligned themselves with Carlen, compounding the deleterious effects of a declining basketball program and waning attendance. Though still wildly popular and influential with fans and students, McGuire’s stock had declined significantly with the power brokers at USC, and it seemed his days as basketball headman were numbered. Dislodging McGuire, however, would fall to a new president.

When James B. Holderman was appointed University president in 1977, he publicly proposed that McGuire’s duties as basketball coach would cease following the 1977-78 season. Holderman further proposed that McGuire would assume the position of athletic director for the University’s branch campuses, with headquarters on the campus of USC-Coastal in Conway. McGuire roundly rejected the proposal, stating that he only wanted to coach basketball, and proposing that he be allowed to complete his contract which expired following the 1979-80 season. Media and the student body ardently supported McGuire, and the optics were not good for Holderman. Amid rising pressure, Holderman retracted his proposal.

In short order, Holderman and the Board of Trustees tried to oust McGuire once again by enforcing a newly changed retirement age, which the board had recently lowered from 70 to 65. This would force McGuire out after the ’78 campaign. Once again, fans and the media rallied with highly vocal support for McGuire and condemnation for Holderman and the board. Several faculty members challenged the legality of the new retirement rule in court. Stinging from criticism and still working to establish credibility as president, Holderman discovered truth in the old adage that there is rarely an education in the second kick of a mule. He would not risk a third. McGuire would be allowed to coach the final two seasons of his contract.

Controversy would continue to trouble the athletic department and Holderman’s fledgling presidency over the next year. When Holderman appointed James A. Morris, a former dean of the College of Business Administration at USC and one time vice president of the ACC, to the newly created position of vice president of athletic affairs, the move initially seemed a stroke of genius. Morris could take the burden of athletic department oversight off of Holderman’s full plate and bring some stability to the scene. Morris was also a McGuire ally who would bring balance to Carlen’s growing power and influence in athletic affairs.

The move backfired when Carlen hired an attorney and threatened legal action over a breach of his contract, as he felt his powers of administration were being usurped. The Gamecock Club, led by USC football letterman Ed Pitts, sided with Carlen and publicly disputed Morris’ authority over its considerable funds, even threatening to sue the University. Morris eventually resigned, and the position of vice president for athletic affairs was allowed to lapse, handing Carlen a significant victory. In the midst of this, the University suffered yet another embarrassment when the State Law Enforcement Division began an investigation into alleged misappropriation of $95,000 ($385,000 adjusted) in concession funds by the athletic department.

Holderman found his presidency increasingly threatened by the chaos and even corruption within the athletic department. In a few months on the job, he had alienated both Carlen and McGuire, as well as Gamecock Club leaders, fans and the student body.

Carlen and McGuire continued their entrenchment, each working to solidify his power and influence within the University and among fans. Carlen donated $200,000 ($810,000 adjusted) of athletic department profits to the University’s academic funds. Later, wealthy supporters threw a lavish roast for Carlen, attended by Vice President Gerald Ford. McGuire, meanwhile, held a VIP cocktail party for influential boosters, and wealthy Tip-off Club and Gamecock Club members following the final Carolina Classic basketball tournament in 1978. Before one home game, fans were asked to wear green if they supported McGuire, and the Coliseum was awash in verdant hues. USC athletics had become a garish, partisan spectacle.

The Board of Trustees determined that if South Carolina ever had a chance of joining an all-sports conference, it would have to set the University’s athletic house in order. The Board developed a two-pronged approach, which included permanently separating the positions of head football coach and athletic director, and convincing Frank McGuire to step down. Setting the plan in motion, the board informed Carlen that his contract as USC athletic director would not be renewed at expiration in 1982. McGuire, meanwhile, eventually agreed to step down following the 1979-80 season, and received a settlement of $400,000 ($1.6 million).

These moves resulted in predictable backlash by Carlen, who gave a blistering interview in the September 17, 1979 issue of Sports Illustrated, where he criticized the board as “foolish,” and portrayed Holderman as “this little ole president we have,” who, rather than expressing gratitude for the $200,000 athletic department donation, simply asked if he could expect that every year. Likewise, McGuire backers protested loudly at his ouster. Players threatened to quit. Nearly 500 students gathered on the Horseshoe in front of the President’s House to protest the decision. But McGuire had agreed to the deal, and the board had reached an important, if clumsily executed achievement.

With McGuire’s exit determined, and Carlen’s athletic directorship due to expire at the end of his contract in 1982, it appeared that Carolina’s path was set for a move to a unified athletic department. Though the Board of Trustees would succumb to political pressure from Carlen backers and extend his athletic director and head football coach contracts to 1986 following consecutive eight-win seasons in 1979 and 1980, it would ultimately return to its stated intention of separating those two posts. Following a disappointing 6-6 campaign in 1981, which ended with three straight losses, including a 23-21 defeat at home to lowly Pacific, the board found the impetus it needed to oust Carlen. After a dismal 33-10 defeat in the season’s final game at Aloha Stadium against Hawaii, rumors swirled about Carlen’s future. On Friday, December 11, the Board of Trustees met in a contentious hours-long meeting, during which they voted “overwhelmingly” to fire Carlen. Holderman communicated the decision to Carlen by telephone that evening. The board declined comment on the reasons for the decision, but few were surprised, given Carlen’s combative relationship with President Holderman, the board, some prominent Gamecock boosters and local media.

On January 2, 1982, USC introduced its new athletic director, Bob Marcum, who formerly held the same position at the University of Kansas. Marcum’s arrival marked the first time in 20 years the athletic director was someone other than the head football coach. Rex Enright served as athletic director after turning over football duties to Warren Giese in the 1950s. When Enright passed away, Giese took on both positions. He continued to serve as AD for one year after the arrival of new football coach Marvin Bass, but in 1962 the two positions were combined again under Bass, and the jobs had remained combined over the next two decades under Bass, then Dietzel, and finally Carlen. As college athletics became big business over that twenty-year period, nearly all Division I universities had long since moved to a strong athletic director format. USC’s athletic department had suffered for its failure to evolve, and progress had been stymied by a lack of accountability and a toxic cult of personality.

That failure was most glaring when Dietzel led the charge to pull USC out of the Atlantic Coast Conference over football-related concerns. But the instability and dysfunction had only worsened in the intervening years. Marcum’s hiring marked a positive change of direction. The State’s Herman Helms wrote that Marcum’s hiring would mark an end to a system, which had “…caused so much divisiveness. Coaches will no longer wage a contest for the AD post and control over other coaches. Coaches will coach and administrators will administrate. USC will be one school again, a whole institution, and that’s worth cheering about.” Indeed, Marcum’s first order of business would be to hire a new head football coach not named Bob Marcum. A new day had dawned at USC.

Aside from the search for a head football coach, the new AD soon turned his attention to the matter of conference affiliation. He noted in an early press conference the obvious benefits of affiliation with a strong conference, and his positive experience with the Big Eight as Kansas AD certainly would have guided his thinking. After hiring former Carlen top assistant Richard Bell to coach the football team, Marcum would spend a good portion of the next two years exploring conference possibilities.


New Leadership, NCAA Snub Propel USC Toward Metro

Almost as soon as McGuire announced his retirement at USC, rumors connected Duke’s Bill Foster to the South Carolina job. Foster, a Pennsylvania native, had established a name for himself as a builder of programs during stints at Bloomsburg State, Rutgers, Utah and then Duke. South Carolina’s program needed rebuilding, and Foster soon became its number one target.


Foster’s credentials were sparkling. One of the most respected coaches in all of College Basketball, he had served as president of the National Association of Basketball Coaches in 1975-76, and in 1978, guided his Blue Devils team to the National Final, before losing in the championship game to Kentucky. Foster masterfully rebuilt a proud Duke program that had suffered a dramatic reversal of fortunes in the post Vic Bubas era, compiling a pedestrian 73-61 record under Bucky Waters and Neill McGeachy, including a 10-16 record in McGeachy’s lone season.

Foster came to Duke in 1974, following a successful three-year stint at Utah, including a 22-9 record in 1973-74 and a runner-up finish in that season’s National Invitational Tournament. He quickly set about rebuilding Duke’s fortunes. Following three rebuilding seasons which hovered around the .500 mark, Foster’s Blue Devils broke out in 1977-78 with a 27-7 record, including a second-place regular-season finish in the ACC, an ACC Tournament championship, and a surprising run to the NCAA Tournament final. Foster saw continued success over the next two seasons, his Duke teams hovering at or near No. 1 in the weekly rankings for portions of both seasons. Foster’s Blue Devils won a share of the regular-season ACC Championship in 1978-79, and made it to the second round of that season’s NCAA Tournament, finishing with a 28-8 overall record. His 1979-80 team finished a disappointing 7-7 in ACC play, but went 24-9 overall, winning the ACC Tournament and making it to the Elite Eight in NCAA Tournament play.

Despite Foster’s success at Duke, he felt increasingly frustrated and out of his element in Durham. There were perceived slights by Duke athletic director Tom Butters, which included failure to pave the coaches parking lot behind Cameron Indoor Stadium, and the frustration of being overshadowed by UNC’s Dean Smith, who had become something of a deity in North Carolina since taking over for Frank McGuire in 1961. There was also a general unease – a sense that he did not fit in culturally at the school and was not appreciated by the Duke people – that they perhaps thought he was lucky to be at such a prestigious institution, given his Elizabethtown College (PA) pedigree.

By his sixth and final season in Durham, with South Carolina rumors swirling and criticism mounting as ACC losses accumulated, Foster had become reclusive, speaking infrequently to reporters and refusing to address the South Carolina rumors, which only added to the speculation. By the end of the regular season, Foster had reached a verbal agreement with South Carolina, becoming Jim Carlen’s final hire as USC athletic director. The deal done, Foster’s Duke team played angry during the ACC Tournament and went on an improbable tear, beating NC State, UNC and Maryland to win the ACC Tournament and wrap up an automatic bid to the NCAA Tournament. Twenty-four hours after beating Maryland for the ACC Championship, Foster found himself at The Roost athletic dorm in Columbia, standing alongside AD Carlen and University President Holderman at a press conference, where he was introduced as the new Head Basketball Coach at the University of South Carolina. He had tendered his resignation to Duke AD Butters effective at the end of NCAA Tournament play. Following an emotional third round loss to Purdue, Foster’s Duke tenure ended and his South Carolina tenure began. Ten days later, Duke would hire a 33-year old Bobby Knight protégé named Krzyzewski.

Foster called rebuilding the USC program “maybe my biggest challenge” during his introductory press conference on November 3, 1980. It would prove to be challenging indeed, though there were early signs Foster would work his rebuilding magic at South Carolina just as he had in his previous stops. He inherited four returning players from McGuire’s final squad, three of whom would figure prominently in Foster’s first Gamecock team – rising seniors Zam Fredrick and Kevin Dunleavy, and rising sophomore Kevin Darmody. A fourth returnee was an academic casualty. Foster quipped upon seeing the numbers, “it takes at least five to play.”

So, the new head coach and his assistants, Bob Wenzel, Ray Jones and Steve Steinwedel, all of whom had followed Foster from Duke, hit the recruiting trail quickly. Foster and staff signed six freshmen and one junior college transfer, and added three “run-ons,” Foster’s spin on the traditional “walk-on”. The incoming freshmen included Jimmy Foster (no relation) – a scrappy 6’8” power forward from Greenville, South Carolina; 6’8” forward Brad Jergenson from Manitowoc, Wisconsin; 6-5 shooting forward Kenny Holmes from Savannah, Georgia; and 6’3” guard Scott Sanderson of Tuscaloosa, Alabama (son of University of Alabama coach Wimp Sanderson). Joining this talented group of freshmen was 6’0” point guard Gerald Peacock, a junior transfer from Brevard Junior College in Florida. These five newcomers plus the returning nucleus of Fredrick, Dunleavy and Darmody played the lion’s share of minutes in 1980-81.

Foster’s first USC team far exceeded expectations, winning 17 of 24 games after an 0-3 start to finish a respectable 17-10. The season was highlighted by wins over Texas, Florida State, Penn State, and a thrilling two-point win in Milwaukee versus high-powered Marquette in a nationally televised game.

Throughout the season, and particularly over the final 13-game stretch, senior Zam Fredrick distinguished himself as a prolific scorer. He finished the season with a 28.9 ppg average to take the national scoring championship. He secured that title with a 43-point performance in a season-ending home win versus Georgia Southern. Fredrick had been mostly a role player under McGuire, but flourished in Foster’s system.

Another pleasant surprise was hard-nosed rebound machine Jimmy Foster, a promising prospect, who had been out of organized basketball for two years prior to signing with the Gamecocks. The rationale for Foster’s missing senior season at Wade Hampton High School was described as “personal reasons.” It would not be the last basketball he would miss, or the end of his personal struggles. Foster was a blue-collar scrapper who quickly became a fan favorite for his all-out, aggressive style of play. He started 26 of 27 games, led USC in rebounding, and was second on the squad in scoring behind Fredrick.

Disappointingly, the 1980-81 Gamecocks did not receive an NIT bid, but the new coach and his young squad had brought a new energy back to the Gamecock program, and notched the program’s 15th consecutive winning season.

The 1981-82 Gamecocks would be a disappointment. Foster’s second team was still one of the younger squads in the country, with five incoming freshmen, five sophomores and only two juniors who would log significant minutes. There were no seniors. The Gamecocks missed the firepower of Fredrick, who by then was playing professionally in Europe. Top returning scorer and rebounder Jimmy Foster was also missing during the season’s first eight games, a period which saw the Gamecocks go 3-5, including ugly losses to Chaminade and Hawaii during a week-long junket in which the men’s and women’s basketball teams and the football team all traveled to Honolulu for sightseeing and competition.

USC finished 14-15, the program’s first losing season since 1966. Despite that outcome, the Gamecocks finished on a strong note, winning their final three contests, versus Florida State in Tallahassee, The Citadel and a talented UNLV team in Columbia. The encouraging finish, plus the return of Foster’s entire roster bode well for his third season in 1982-83.

Foster’s third season in Columbia marked the 75th season of varsity competition for USC basketball. It would be a season of milestones, dramatic wins, and a serious health scare for Foster, which sidelined him for 17 games. Following a dramatic six-point win versus 15th ranked Purdue in early December, Foster was taken to the hospital after collapsing in the locker room. He was diagnosed with a “moderate” heart attack and underwent quadruple coronary by-pass surgery four days later. Assistant Coach Steinwedel took charge of the team in Foster’s absence, and coached USC to 12 wins and 5 losses. The Gamecocks notched a win over a strong Vanderbilt team, and a split in two games with Clemson during this stretch, as well as an eight-point win against Georgia Tech, spoiling Coach Bobby Cremins’ highly emotional homecoming.

Foster returned to the bench for a game versus Holy Cross on February 19, and led the inspired Gamecocks to a lopsided win, as well as four wins in their last five regular season games, including thrilling final-second wins versus power programs Marquette and DePaul. The Gamecocks finished with 20 wins for the first time in nine seasons, and had high hopes for an NCAA Tournament bid.

Despite a solid resume, the Gamecocks were on the outside looking in when NCAA bids were awarded, and settled for an NIT bid. It was a bitter pill to swallow for Coach Foster and his team, as well as new Athletic Director Bob Marcum, and highlighted the need for conference affiliation. USC’s twelve seasons of Major Independent status had produced a frustrating array of troubles for both McGuire and Foster. A vast majority of colleges across the country were members of conferences and focused their efforts primarily on conference play, which created increased difficulty in scheduling quality opponents. Sub-par schedules with little to no regional interest led in turn to decreased ticket sales and attendance.

To complicate matters, the NCAA had also begun shifting from awarding post-season bids to Independent programs with comparable records to conference-affiliated teams. There was also the promise of an automatic bid with a conference tournament championship, a goal to which Independent teams could not aspire. North Carolina State, the eventual winner of that season’s national championship had ended their regular season a pedestrian 17-10, but achieved an automatic bid after an improbable run and championship in the ACC Tournament. The Wolfpack entered NCAA play with an identical win total to South Carolina’s regular season 20 wins.

Another factor had entered the equation by the early 1980s – television contracts. The ACC had just inked a lucrative new contract for its television games with Raycom Sports, guaranteeing each of its members $1.6 million ($4 million) in television revenue from basketball during the 1982-83 season. Other conferences were negotiating similar deals. There was no such financial opportunity for Major Independent schools.

The Gamecocks achieved two wins in that season’s NIT, versus Old Dominion and Virginia Tech, both played before home crowds in Columbia. The third round game was a disappointing, lopsided loss on the road to former ACC foe, Wake Forest, which left the Gamecocks one win shy of a semifinal trip to Madison Square Garden. It would prove to be the final contest for USC as a Major Independent.

Just two weeks later the USC Board of Trustees accepted an invitation from the Metro Conference, becoming its eighth member. Athletic Director Marcum moved decisively to guide USC toward the Metro in the days following the basketball team’s failure to secure an NCAA Tournament bid. It had become increasingly clear that Major Independent status was a unsustainable model in the modern world of collegiate athletics. With more appealing “all-sports” options in the ACC and SEC closed for the time being, the Metro proved to be the best, and for all practical purposes, the only option for South Carolina in 1983. The timing allowed Gamecock men’s and women’s basketball teams and baseball team among others, to begin conference competition with the 1983-84 academic year. The football team, meanwhile, would retain its Independent status.

South Carolina had now taken major steps toward putting its athletic affairs in order, in the hiring of a strong athletic director, and gaining conference membership within the Metro. Coaches McGuire and Carlen had also departed, taking with them the poisonous and partisan atmosphere, which destabilized the University’s athletic affairs and kept USC from Metro affiliation in 1979. These events, while producing mixed results in the win-loss column, cumulatively provided the stability and respectability the athletic department and University sorely needed. Moreover, they set USC along the path toward bigger and better things.

Paul Dietzel and the Modernization of South Carolina Athletics

“He’s quite the salesman. Before Paul came we used to have to beg money from the canteen and book shop for athletics.”

-USC Board of Trustees Chairman T. Eston Merchant


Of the challenges Paul Dietzel took on upon accepting the job of head football coach and athletic director in 1966, the most significant and pressing, was the need to upgrade facilities. The most glaring inadequacy was the old field house – USC’s basketball facility, with a capacity of 3,200, provided only enough seating for around one third of the student body and a few paying fans. By the time Dietzel took the helm, the University was accepting bids from contractors for construction of what was called “Memorial Coliseum” in conceptual drawings.

Built at a cost of $9.2 million ($62.8 million), the Coliseum more than answered the call for an upgraded basketball facility. In an epic case of “one-upmanship,” McGuire specified the seating capacity should be 12,401 – exactly one more seat than the 12,400-seat Reynolds Coliseum at N.C. State – then the largest arena in the ACC and the entire Southeast. USC’s new building would also house the University’s Journalism and General Studies programs in underground classroom space. It opened in grand fashion on November 30, 1968 with a thrilling 51-49 victory over Auburn in that season’s first game. Sophomore John Roche drilled the deciding jumper in his first varsity game before a raucous, capacity crowd.

The construction timeline of the Coliseum advanced rapidly when a fire destroyed the old field house shortly after the completion of the 1967-68 season, leaving the Gamecocks only one option for home games in 1968-69. The cause of the fire was never determined, and stories have swirled over the years that McGuire, sensing a lack of urgency in construction, may have had a hand in the fire.

On February 22, 1967, USC accepted a bid of $6.88 million from McDevitt & Street Co. of Charlotte. The originally scheduled opening date was December 1, 1968, which was considered wildly optimistic by the contractor. The firm’s contractual obligation was to have the facility completed by March 9, 1969, at the end of the ’68-’69 basketball season.

Despite that, McGuire had recruited an outstanding 1967 signing class which included Roche, Tom Owens, John Ribock and Billy Walsh, promising them all that the new coliseum would be ready for the start of their sophomore season. After a season of playing on the freshman team in the old field house, those rising sophomores were eager to put the antiquated facility in the rear-view mirror.

Carolina Field House was built at the corner of Greene and Sumter Streets, across the street from Longstreet Theater, in 1927 at a cost of $28,000 ($400,000 adjusted). In addition to providing a home court for basketball, it housed coaches’ offices and was a venue for concerts and dances. With a post World War II enrollment boom, USC’s student body surpassed the building’s capacity by the early 1950s.

The facility, obsolescent though it was, provided a compelling home court advantage for Gamecock basketball teams. The playing floor was sunken several feet below ground level and the bleachers created a cantilevered effect, seeming to hang over top of the floor. A three-foot brick wall rimmed the court, topped by a metal railing, which separated fans from players, coaches and officials. Rowdy students would lean over the rails, shouting all manner of “encouragement,” which created a deafening wall of noise. In a 2015 article for The State (Columbia), columnist Ron Morris interviewed former Gamecock great Ronnie Collins about that home court advantage. Collins said that with a packed house, “it sounded like an atomic bomb going off, and it was always full, I don’t care what our record was.”

The conditions were less than pleasant for visiting teams, with opposing coaches characterizing it as a “snake pit,” among other less-than-glowing reviews. The pep band, which was always positioned directly behind the visitor’s bench, wreaked havoc. Playing boisterously during time outs, they often drowned out the instructions of the opposing coach. During a 1963 game between the Gamecocks and Duke, the trombone player kept moving his slide past the head of Duke’s Jay Buckley, which the normally mild-mannered Buckley found so maddening that he grabbed the trombone and tossed it onto the playing floor. Duke coach Vic Bubas asked the officials if he could move his team to mid-court during timeouts, and when he did, the Carolina cheerleaders surrounded the Blue Devils in a raucous “war dance.”

While demand for student tickets was always strong, by the time of McGuire’s arrival it was clear that the Field House had outlived its usefulness. While McGuire’s acceptance of the USC job was based upon a gentleman’s agreement that a modern arena would be built, there was the matter of fund-raising and planning to navigate, which would take several years. The old field house had a few more seasons left, and would see unprecedented excitement in those final campaigns. In 1965, USC beat fifth-ranked Duke – McGuire’s first signature win at Carolina. In 1967, USC handed fourth-ranked UNC an upset. UNC would go on to win the ACC and make it to the Final Four that year. It was evident that McGuire was building a program that could compete for ACC titles. As the basketball program rose to prominence, the cramped confines of the field house became more pronounced.

By the end of the 1967-68 season, what would be the final one in Carolina Field House, it became evident that construction was running weeks behind at the new Coliseum. Poor weather in January of ‘68 added significantly to the delays. McDevitt executives pointed to their contractual obligation of March,1969. McGuire chafed under the delays.

Just before midnight on Sunday, March 24, 1968, Columbia firefighters responded to a fire at the Field House, sending four pumpers and a ladder truck to battle the blaze. Hundreds of students volunteered to work alongside firemen into the night, many of whom formed a human chain, salvaging trophies and furniture from the burning building. Columbia Fire Chief Edward F. Broome said the fire “may have started around a breaker box,” but could not comment conclusively as the investigation by arson experts with the State Law Enforcement Division (SLED) was ongoing.

Chief Broome noted the next day that the fire destroyed everything but the roof and walls, and estimated that the damage would approach $200,000 ($1.4 million). Equipment and supply losses were estimated at $15,900 and included two scoreboards, 18 Spalding basketballs, uniforms and 14 cartons of Camel cigarettes from the concession stand. University President Jones noted that despite a $375,000 insurance policy on the building, razing it might make the most sense, as spending $200,000 to rebuild an already inadequate building might not be the wisest option.

The matter was put to rest a few weeks later, when on Saturday, April 13, 1968 a second fire destroyed what remained of the Field House. Fire officials noted that the second blaze was intentionally set, but withheld further comment pending investigation. An unnamed man quoted in an article in The State two days later said he had been walking by the Field House that Saturday when he “saw a ‘poof’ explosion and then saw fire raging at the north end of the building.”

Columbia was in the midst of a weeklong curfew, imposed in response to outbreaks of violence across the nation following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. just nine days prior. Due to the curfew, National Guardsmen and State Highway Patrolmen on duty across the city descended upon the site of the fire to provide security. In contrast to the earlier fire, the campus was mostly deserted with many away for Easter, and few onlookers showed to view the spectacle. Three Columbia firefighters were injured by falling debris while fighting the blaze.

While it is tempting to engage in speculation about McGuire’s possible involvement in the Field House fire as a means to advance construction timelines at the new Coliseum, that scenario is doubtful. A June 15, 1968 article in The State reported a fifth suspicious fire at the University within a period of four months. The latest, which fire officials said was intentionally set at the gymnasium behind Longstreet Theater, was the second at that that location within a period of days. Longstreet was just a stone’s throw across Sumter Street from the ruins of Carolina Fieldhouse where the two earlier fires had been set. In April of that year, a fire was set in a classroom near the USC Naval Armory, which did $1,800 ($13,000 adjusted) in damage. Beyond that, USC assistant basketball coach Buck Freeman, who coached the freshman team and had been McGuire’s college coach at St. Johns University, had developed a well-known affection for the Field House, and had become its main caretaker. Lastly, a vigorous arson investigation followed the Field House fires, something a man of McGuire’s intelligence would have foreseen.

Results of the arson investigations were inconclusive, which, no doubt, advanced the urban legend of McGuire’s involvement. However, no credible evidence exists that the coach engaged in arson for hire. The arsons were crimes which resulted in the destruction of a University building, injured several firefighters, and if discovered, would have resulted in criminal charges, public humiliation, and possibly incarceration. Even granting McGuire’s possible motivations in the Field House fires, he would have had no such motivation in the other three campus fires. It is clear that an arsonist was loose at the University in 1968, but his name was most certainly not McGuire.

With the Field House in ruins, all attention turned to the construction of the new Coliseum. McDevitt & Street stepped up its efforts with crews working six days per week, ten hours per day throughout the summer and early fall. USC made no contingency plans for the first game, perhaps adding additional motivation for all involved to ensure the building would be ready for basketball on November 30.

The House That Frank Built

The morning of November 30, 1968 dawned with fair skies, temperatures in the low 50’s and highs forecast in the mid 60’s. Somnolent in the midst of a long Thanksgiving weekend, Columbia residents shuffled out to retrieve their morning papers while construction workers labored feverishly at the Coliseum.

McGuire’s Gamecocks would, in fact, tip off the 1968-69 season in their new home, though what greeted fans arriving before the 8p.m. tip was still an active construction site. Fans walked blocks to get to the new building, as parking facilities had not been completed in time for the game. All energy and focus had gone into completion of the playing arena itself. The arena, in fact, was the only portion of the building anywhere near completion. Surrounding offices and classroom space would not be completed for months.

Fans navigated mounds of clay, kicked at wooden planks forming concrete walkways poured just days before, gawked at construction equipment still warm from use, and stared inquisitively at blocked stairways. Exterior lights high above on the building’s massive soffit only worked on two sides. One scoreboard was not installed; the other did not work. Many of the large garnet double doors leading from the concourse to the arena leaned against walls, unattached. Workers had finished installing the last of the 12,401 seats just hours before tipoff.

Yet, upon entering the playing arena, fans were amazed at the immensity and the luxury of the place. It felt massive, cavernous, in comparison to the more familiar 3,200-seat Carolina Fieldhouse. The chair back theater-style seats were lavishly upholstered in Gamecock garnet, with the exception of black upholstered seats on both sides of the arena arranged to spell out “U S C.”. Ushers were stationed throughout the arena, directing fans to their seats. Those with tickets in the higher rows encountered a vigorous workout as they climbed the steeply ascending steps. The precipitous incline of the seating was designed to keep fans as close to the action as possible. The space-frame roof of the building was held aloft by 44 massive exterior columns, which eliminated the need for interior columns and provided unobstructed views throughout the arena. It was the largest space-frame building in the world, and the largest arena in the Southeast.*

On that opening night, sophomore John Roche would provide the heroics to secure a thrilling, last-second victory over Auburn. It was a brilliant start to a varsity career, which would end three years later with his name atop the all-time scoring list in program history. Roche’s late jumper also provided an apt beginning to the Coliseum’s storied history. Setting off on a torrid start, the Gamecocks played their remaining three seasons as ACC members in the plush new digs, compiling a 29-3 home record, before rollicking, sellout crowds.

* The Omni Coliseum in Atlanta would surpass Carolina’s new arena by several thousand seats when it opened four years later. Meanwhile, as USC opened the Carolina Coliseum, Clemson debuted its own sparkling new arena on the same night, with a 76-72 victory over Georgia Tech in the 11,000-seat Littlejohn Coliseum. A few days later, Clemson would record its first sellout crowd, which witnessed a heartbreaking 86-85 loss for the Tigers against Louisiana State. LSU’s “Pistol” Pete Maravich led all scorers with 36 points in a homecoming of sorts. Maravich’s father, Press Maravich, had coached Clemson for six seasons during Pete’s youth, before moving onto North Carolina State, and ultimately to LSU.


Gamecocks Find A New Home At “The Roost”

As the Basketball Gamecocks lavished in their new arena, construction crews were busy in other parts of campus as well. A new five-unit complex at the corner of Heyward and South Marion Streets, set to open in the spring of 1969, included dedicated athletic dorms, a cafeteria and lounge, a varsity tennis complex and a new baseball diamond. The 30-acre complex was named for former football coach and athletic director Rex Enright. The dormitory, cafeteria and lounge areas were were affectionately dubbed “The Roost.”

Coach Dietzel, in his duties as athletic director, was the driving force behind the creation of this new home for Gamecock athletes, and it was a major priority from the outset of his tenure. Deitzel and University business manager Dean H. Brunton visited various athletic facilities at universities across the country, incorporating many of the ideas they gathered into the planning of the new Roost complex. Brunton, in an interview with The State described the “total concept” philosophy of the complex. “The University is heading toward a total housing complex, including a study area, lounge, play and dining facility. Along with this we are trying to produce the home environment.” Dietzel emphasized the importance of having a special facility designed with the college athlete in mind. “The college athlete is on a different schedule from most students. His time is taken up a great deal in the late afternoon with practice and training when other students can study. Academically, the greatest thing we can do is to give the athlete an opportunity to graduate, and we should do everything possible to help his study habits.”

On March 17, 1969, the baseball Gamecocks, under third-year Coach Jack Powers, played the inaugural game at the new diamond. It was a disappointing start to a season which would prove to be Powers’ final one at Carolina. Virginia Tech’s hurlers held Gamecock batters to an anemic five hits on the day en route to handing USC an opening day loss of 6-1. A sparse crowd of 250 spectators took in that first game at the facility. That opening loss set the tone for a frustrating season in which the Gamecocks compiled a 12-21-1* record, and were outscored 111-148.

* The one tie was 4-4 against ACC-leading Clemson on April 16. The game was played a day later than originally scheduled due to rain, and was called after 13 innings due to darkness. The teams met on the campus of the Veterans Hospital in Columbia due to soggy conditions at their new home field. USC played many of its home games at the Veterans Hospital field prior to the opening of their new spring sports complex.

That ’69 season came to an unceremonious ending with a 9-0 thumping at the hands of Virginia in Charlottesville on May 13. That game ushered in the “modern era” of Gamecock baseball, with the hiring of New York Yankee legend Bobby Richardson as its new head coach.


Carolina Stadium becomes Williams-Brice

 On the afternoon of Monday, December 8, 1969, University President Jones and Athletic Director Dietzel, along with other department heads held a press conference at the newly completed Capstone Building, an 18-story residence hall on campus. Jones outlined a proposed $112 million expansion and construction program for the University. The program included a new library, a new college of business administration, a new school of nursing, two new residence halls, a parking garage and a central administration building at 901 Sumter St, across from the University’s original campus, the stately and iconic Horseshoe.

Also outlined in the plans was a multi-phase expansion of Carolina Stadium. An article that afternoon in The Columbia Record, included an artist rendering of the proposed expansion, including a first phase addition of an upper west deck, and a second phase addition of an upper east deck. The two phases would expand seating capacity at the stadium from 42,338 to a projected 70,000 seats. All projects would be completed over the course of five years, and would require $97 million in state funds, with the stadium project costing $7.6 million ($48.6 million adjusted).

Carolina Stadium was originally known as Columbia Municipal Stadium and was built as a project of the Works Progress Administration (WPA) in 1934. The stadium replaced the wooden grandstands of Melton Field*, where Gamecock teams originally played their home games. The original structure, comprised of east and west grandstands, sat 17,600. The stadium was officially dedicated on October 6, 1934, during a gray, drizzly afternoon, which saw the Gamecocks defeat Virginia Military by a score of 22-6. The City of Columbia deeded the stadium to USC in 1935 and in 1941 it was officially renamed Carolina Stadium.

In 1948, seating was nearly doubled to 33,000 with the addition of south end zone seating, which formed a horseshoe. By 1959, another expansion in the north end zone completed a bowl and brought capacity to 43,212. In 1966, field level seats were replaced by armchair-type seats, which reduced capacity to 42,338, where it remained on the eve of the 1969 expansion proposal.

State funding for the stadium project in particular faced tough sledding in 1969. Governor Robert E. McNair said that the proposal was not number one on the university’s building priority list. State Senator Edgar A. Brown spoke in more definitive terms, stating “…any new building is out of the question.” McNair and Brown, as well as other legislators cited a tough budget year. Also, President Nixon had recently asked state governments to place a hold on new building to combat inflation. McNair intended to honor the President’s request. The university, meanwhile, pledged to fund the project itself, if it had to, with gate receipts and booster funding – a dubious proposal given the scale and cost of the project. However, construction would begin on the new west upper deck in less than a year, at the conclusion of the 1970 football season thanks to a generous gift.

In a January 1971 announcement, attorneys representing the estate of Mrs. Martha Williams Brice announced the intent, outlined in Mrs. Brice’s will, to bequeath a $3.5 million gift to the University ($18 million). The funds were to benefit various building projects on the Columbia campus and at Coastal Carolina – then a USC satellite campus in Conway, South Carolina. On the Columbia campus, funds would go to the College of Nursing as well as the ongoing building project at Carolina Stadium, with $2.75 million of the gift going to the USC Athletic Department. University President Jones noted it was the single largest monetary gift to an institution of higher learning in the history of the state. The University announced plans to place the Williams-Brice name on the new Nursing building and the stadium in accordance with the directives outlined in Mrs. Brice’s will.

Mrs. Brice was the daughter of Sumter furniture magnate O.L. Williams, and the widow of Thomas H. Brice, President of Southern Coatings and Chemical Co. and Williams-Georgia Pacific Furniture Co. Her interest in Carolina athletics went back decades, and her husband had been a football letterman at USC. Mrs. Brice’s will further directed $250,000 gifts each to Trinity United Methodist Church of Sumter and Epworth Children’s Home in Columbia.

By the 1970s the area surrounding USC’s football stadium was a sprawling industrial district. Between Shop Road to the east and Bluff Road to the west, the stadium lay at the northern edge of an industrial corridor, surrounded by warehouses and machine shops. To the north, across Stadium Street (now George Rogers Boulevard) lay the State Fairgrounds, which provided row upon row of ample, if dusty parking for Gamecock Club members. Further north beyond the Fairgrounds was Olympia Mill, the then still-functioning textile mill built in 1899, and the surrounding village. To the west, across Bluff Road lay the State Farmers Market, an assemblage of low-slung cinder block and corrugated metal buildings, bustling with produce vendors from across the state. Still further west beyond that flowed the slowly churning Congaree River. The stadium itself was ringed by asphalt parking areas for big donors. It was a gritty backdrop, particularly in contrast to the stately and verdant heart of campus – the USC Horseshoe, two miles north. But the off-campus location ensured ample parking and easy tailgating, where, since 1934, generations of Gamecock faithfully converged on autumn Saturdays.

The stadium was renamed officially during a brief dedication ceremony on September 9, 1972, during halftime of that season’s opening game. Attending the ceremony were University President Jones, U.S. Sentators Strom Thurmond and Ernest F. Hollings, and Bill and Tom Edwards, nephews of Mrs. Brice, among other dignitaries. The game resulted in a 24-16 Virginia win, putting a damper on the festivities. 

* Melton Field sat roughly at the site of today’s Russell House Student Union building. The field was a former parade ground for General Tecumseh Sherman’s troops during the Union occupation of Columbia in 1865. Davis Field, the former baseball diamond, lay immediately to the west along Greene Street, between Melton Field and Longstreet Theater, roughly at the site of the Thomas Cooper Library reflecting pool. The first recorded baseball games in Columbia took place on Davis Field between Union solders and local teams. 


Dietzel’s Legacy

Though it would be 1981 before the matching east-upper deck would be added, the newly christened Williams-Brice Stadium brought USC football into the modern age, and continued an impressive effort to modernize facilities across the Columbia campus. Williams-Brice, along with The Roost athletic dorms, the Rex Enright Spring Sports Complex, and the Carolina Coliseum had all been completed within a span of three years. It was a giant leap forward and brought Carolina to the forefront of national competitiveness and respectability in terms of facilities.

During these years, Dietzel had also changed the school’s fight song and introduced a new logo – the now familiar Gamecock, sans Block-C (this would come later). Dietzel’s Gamecock included a flowing banner with the words “Scholarship-Leadership” clutched in the bird’s lower claw. The banner would disappear in 1975 with the addition of the Block-C, completing the updated logo, which is still in use today.

Dietzel was profoundly more impactful as an athletic director than coach at USC, and resigned under pressure during the 1974 season, leaving at the end of that campaign. In nine seasons, he compiled a total record of 42-53-1 (43%). His 1969 team did provide the University with its first, and to this day, only outright conference football championship. This was the highlight of his coaching tenure at Carolina. But his influence and legacy go well beyond that.

From leading the charge to exit the ACC and desegregating the athletic department; to massive facility upgrades; to penning the new fight song and directing the creation of a new Gamecock logo (both still in use today); to the hiring of baseball coach Bobby Richardson, which vaulted that program into national prominence, the Dietzel era brought revolutionary change to Carolina athletics.

Dietzel, perhaps more than any individual, is responsible for the look and feel of USC athletics over the course of several decades. In many respects, his influence lingers even today.

America, We’re Better Than This

America, we’re better than this. We’ve allowed ourselves to be lied to. We’ve been willingly herded into ideological corrals based upon which news channel we watch or which newspaper we read, or in many cases, whether we choose to read a newspaper at all. We’ve accepted the rhetoric of angry demagogues who have labeled us and arrested our ability to think critically about the world. We have accepted those labels and segregated ourselves along false political lines.

We exchange angry messages with strangers of different political tribes on social media, but we no longer talk with our family at the dinner table about important issues because we have lost the ability to think with complexity, to speak rationally, to consider ideas which do not fit the talking points we’ve embraced. We have entrenched ourselves in safe, comfortable spaces, where our assumptions are no longer challenged, and the information we receive is thoughtfully curated to reinforce what we have already decided is true, and to make us feel secure in the political tribe we’ve chosen.

We have allowed ourselves to forget that we are a kind and generous people, which is a virtue and a strength. It does not make us “suckers”, rather it reveals our essential goodness. We are a nation of immigrants who have built this republic into the single greatest country in the history of the world. We too often view our nation’s history through a lens of either mindless patriotism, or damning critique of past sins – there is no middle ground, no room for complex thought. “Kinder and gentler” is a punch line these days.

America, we’re better than this.

Fifty years ago, we landed a man on the moon. It was the culmination of a bold idea and an audacious challenge to do big things, great things, in the name of advancing science and technology, and for the sake of challenging ourselves as a people to be better and to strive. Twenty years prior, an entire generation of soldiers, sailors and Marines came home from the battlegrounds of Europe, having soundly defeated the evil of totalitarianism, liberating an entire race from the ovens of a demented racist. They came back with a voracious energy and a single-minded drive to get on with their lives. The GI Bill sent them to college, and they spent the next several decades transforming our country into the single greatest economy the world has ever witnessed.

America, it’s time to get back to doing big things. It’s time to get back to talking with one another, exchanging thoughtful ideas, turning off the talking heads and rolling up our sleeves to do meaningful work in our communities and beyond. We must embrace our national heritage of leadership on the world stage.

It’s time to reengage with our allies and partners across the globe, to embrace once again the alliances, which have fostered peace and stability across the world for over seventy years. Its time to reject the false pretense of isolationism, and move once again with great urgency and energy into the world, to lend a voice for individual freedom and liberty at a time when totalitarianism seeks a second act.

It’s time cast off the shackles of hyper-partisanship, and to reject the dimwitted ramblings of political provocateurs. It’s time to peer over the fence and shake hands and have conversations. It’s time to strip ourselves of labels and engage in the exchange of ideas, to open ourselves up to intellectual challenge, and to be unafraid of “the other”.

We have painted ourselves into ideological corners, but it doesn’t have to be that way. It’s time to be complex thinkers, not adherents to the orthodoxy of “red” or “blue”. We can walk and chew gum at the same time. Principled compromise, not scorched-earth politics, is the bedrock of democracy. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.

We can support our police forces, honoring the vital and noble work they do in our communities, yet hold them unapologetically to standards of excellence and professionalism. We can support our military, yet demand of our leaders that armed force is used sparingly and intelligently. We can embrace the mantle of world leadership without being the world’s policeman.

We can embrace the words from “New Colossus” inscribed at the base of the Statue of Liberty – “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore” – we can embrace the energy and vitality of the immigrant which has made our country unique in the history of the world – we can show kindness and compassion – yet still develop common sense immigration policy.

We can embrace the Second Amendment, yet enact common sense gun legislation, and seek to address the underlying causes of gun violence. We can be proactive and not reactive in providing meaningful treatment for mental illness.

We can move boldly toward sustainable and clean energy by investing in science and technology. We can and should look toward solutions to protect our environment with all the urgency of a moonshot.

We should expect excellence of ourselves and our fellow citizens, yet provide meaningful assistance to those who fall behind. We can help without judging, hold accountable without dehumanizing, and find ways not to punish, but to rehabilitate, and to reintegrate into society in meaningful ways, with full rights of citizenship for those who earn it.

We can do all of these things and more if we are not afraid to think and strive and accept nothing less from ourselves and our elected leaders. And to quote our 35th President, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, we can do these things, “not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win”.

America, we’re better than this. Now what are we going to do about it?

An Evening in the Westfjords

Sunday, August 13, 2017 – Melanes, Iceland

We eased into the cool morning with a camp breakfast of rye bread from the bakery in town, peanut butter, and coffee. After, we packed and were on our way, leaving the charming seaside town of Isafjordur (the capital of the Westfjords) behind and driving south, along the coast on dirt and gravel roads that likely voided the insurance contract on our rental.

Around each bend the views were beyond spectacular. Vistas of mountains and sea more breathtaking than I have ever seen. The Westfjords are unmatched in their ability to inspire awe. The drive at times was downright scary. Hairpin turns at 12 degree slopes on gravel roads make for some white-knuckle moments. A 4×4 would have been more appropriate, but the van carried us through the day.

We stopped for a soak in one of the many thermal baths of this region at a town called Talknafjordor. The bath was the least awe-inspiring thing about our day. Man-made, unkempt and lined with algae to the point that walking was a hazard. But the water was hot and felt great after a strenuous hike yesterday and the large lunch we’d just enjoyed at a bistro in town. We left feeling refreshed and recharged.

We meandered along the mountain roads another 26k, eventually descending to our campsite for the night at Melanes Campground, which included several handsome low-slung wooden buildings. There was a camp store with a few essentials, a laundry, and showers. Beyond the modest facilities, which were admirably clean and well-maintained, the camp was breath-taking. It was the most beautiful place I’ve ever had the privilege to pitch a tent. Backpacker Magazine-cover-photo-type beautiful.

There was a wide beach stretching out beyond our camp, which was situated in a hayfield. Ringing the coast east and north of us were dramatic mountains sweeping up from the coast to rocky outcroppings high above. The sun cast an otherworldly light on the ridges with brilliant shades of purple, deepening by degree as the evening wore on.

The campground was large – perhaps ten football fields across, and there was no one within a hundred yards of us. There was a waterfall high up on the peak behind us, the crashing water muted by distance. The sound of breaking North Atlantic waves on the distant shore provided our soundtrack for the night. Cut hay lay in fragrant serpentine rows , golden ropes against the green grass of late summer. The skies were brilliant blue. Puffs of cloud tinted pink rose above the water and ridges.

We cooked a proper dinner of sausage and rice and vegetables over a camp stove and sipped good Scotch. We added a layer against the gathering cold and dimming light. We were in the Westfjords, far away from the busloads of tourists in the south and the relative bustle of Reykjavik. A week in Iceland lay before us like a blank page.




Storms in the Southland – Why the University of South Carolina Left the ACC

An excerpt from the upcoming book, “The Wilderness – University of South Carolina Athletics in the Independent Era – 1971-1991”

1972 Gamecock

The Dietzel Era Begins

“A New Era In USC Athletics Begins”, proclaimed the headline of The State newspaper on the morning of April 7, 1966. At 41, Paul Dietzel came to Columbia from the United States Military Academy, where he led his Army team to a 21-18-2 record in four seasons. He was the first non-graduate of the Military Academy to become its head football coach.

Prior to his post in West Point, Dietzel enjoyed a highly successful run of seven seasons in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, leading the LSU Tigers to an overall 46-24-3 record and a national championship to conclude the 1958 season. The ’58 championship team followed a rocky start for Dietzel in the Bayou during which his first three teams all resulted in losing seasons, compiling a three-year record of 11-17-2, and finishing no higher than 7th in the SEC. To address the fatigue of his players in an era when many played both offense and defense, Dietzel developed a platoon system prior to the ’58 campaign, in which he would substitute 11 men at a time. The second platoon defense became known as the “Chinese Bandits”, a rugged, if less talented squad, who played with great effort and became fan favorites and LSU legends.

The platoon system, unconventional though it was, worked. Dietzel’s final four seasons at LSU were all winners, highlighted by the ’58 Championship team, and an 11-1 1961 squad, which won a share of the SEC title and brought home an Orange Bowl win over Colorado in his final season at LSU. (Footnote: LSU defeated Clemson 7-0 in the Sugar Bowl on New Years Day, 1959 to secure its first national championship. Clemson’s only other losses that season were a 13-0 shutout to Georgia Tech in Atlanta, and a 26-6 setback to the Gamecocks on Big Thursday in Columbia. The loss to Carolina was the Tigers only ACC loss that season, and they went on to win the ACC Championship. The following season, 1959, would mark the final Big Thursday contest, which was played annually between Carolina and Clemson in Columbia during State Fair week. Beginning in 1960, the rivalry would move to an alternating home and home format which, since 1962 has been the final regular season game for both teams.)

Earlier in Dietzel’s career, as a young assistant coach at Kentucky, he had worked under the great Paul “Bear” Bryant, prior to Bryant’s move to Alabama. The credentials were sterling, and another championship coach had found a home at USC.

It was the opportunity to take on the dual role of head football coach and athletic director, which ultimately lured Dietzel to Carolina. In his opening press conference at the Rex Enright Athletic Center, affectionately known as “The Roundhouse” for its circular design, Dietzel fired a preemptive salvo at the South Carolina General Assembly. “I’ve worked in a state capital with a state university before, and I’ve learned that politicians are wonderful people. Those who aren’t don’t remain politicians very long. But I don’t intend to tell them how to run their business.” The implication was clear. Dietzel put everyone on notice that he was to answer to one man and one man alone – the President of the University, Tom Jones. It was a message that was received well by the press and fans alike. One can imagine that it was an uncomfortable moment for members of the Board of Trustees in attendance, as well as any curious legislators who may have wandered over from the State House.

Dietzel outlined a three-point plan to guide him in his new post. First, everything would be done by the rules. Secondly, “we” (Dietzel and Jones) both wanted a winner. Thirdly, the athletic department would operate in the black. It was a solid strategy. The first point, no doubt, addressed a controversy, which would become Dietzel’s first order of business upon stepping away from the press conference.

Just a few months later, the ACC concluded an investigation into recruiting improprieties within the football program under former head coach, Marvin Bass. Dietzel, as directed by Jones, worked internally to cooperate with the Conference during the later stages of the investigation. On July 30, 1966, the ACC revealed that USC had provided financial aid to three athletes who were ineligible to receive assistance because they did not meet the conference’s minimum College Board score (800 on the SAT) to qualify for a scholarship. The players, two varsity and one freshman, were not named in the investigation by either USC or the ACC.

Reached for comment from his new post in Montreal, Bass took responsibility for the violations, going so far as to say that he had assisted the freshman player, not with University scholarship money, but out of his own pocket. Bass went on to speculate that Dietzel’s role in the investigation and resulting penalties may have been of benefit to Dietzel himself. “If Coach Dietzel wanted to go in with a 1-9 record (rather than 5-5 before the forfeits) so he couldn’t possibly do anything but improve it this season, I wish him luck. I hope he can live in good faith and look people in the eye. If I was going to conduct an investigation, I would have had the courtesy to contact the guy who was there before me.” Bass later expressed regret over the remarks and shouldered all the blame for the violations.

In hindsight, Bass’ comments about Dietzel’s motivations may not have been totally without merit. In his 2008 memoir, “Call Me A Coach”, Dietzel notes that the football program at USC had become “an embarrassment”, further noting about the program, “It had to be rebuilt from scratch. The season prior to my arrival, the Gamecocks’ record was no wins and ten losses. The team had never won a conference championship and had not received a bowl invitation in twenty-five years.” While the program was certainly in need of upgrading upon Dietzel’s arrival, the picture he paints is not completely accurate. There is no mention of Carolina’s share of the 1965 ACC title, though that would be forfeited. He also mentions the team he inherited went 0-10 in 1965, though Bass’ final team actually went 5-5 (4-2 ACC). With the four forfeited ACC games, Carolina’s record became 1-9 in the eyes of the ACC. Though the University does not recognize the ’65 ACC Championship, the USC Football media guide still reflects a 5-5 record for the 1965 season.

The ACC handed down stiff penalties, which included a $2,500 ($20,000 adjusted) fine, and of greater consequence, voided wins over Wake Forest, NC State, Virginia and Clemson from the 1965. Carolina had won a share of the ACC Title in ’65, sharing with Duke. The penalty cost Carolina its first ever ACC title. NC State and Clemson, whose conference records improved to 5-2 by virtue of the forfeitures, now claimed the ACC Championship for ‘65. For reasons unclear, Duke and South Carolina played one fewer conference game that season than did NC State and Clemson (Carolina did not play UNC, and Duke did not play Maryland, while the Wolfpack and Tigers played a full slate). Thus Duke was, by no fault of its own, robbed of a share of the 1965 ACC title.

Even more consequential to Carolina’s long-term affiliation with the ACC was part two of a four-part reprimand released by ACC Commissioner Jim Weaver, on July 25, 1966, which read:

“It is for this flagrant disregard for constitutional authority, that this office… Declares that any student-athlete presently enrolled or incoming at the University of South Carolina whose eligibility is questioned be withheld from participation unless and until it is established to the complete satisfaction of the conference that there has been no violation in each individual case.”  

It was tantamount to “guilty until proven innocent”. It was this mandate, which applied to the University of South Carolina and to no other ACC institution, which would ensnare Frank McGuire’s highest-rated recruit, Mike Grosso, as well as many of Dietzel’s recruits in years to come. 


Keeping the “Also-Rans” In Check – The Grosso Controversy 

“also-ran.” 2017. 2. a contestant that does not win. 3. One that is of little importance, especially competitively.   

In his excellent and thoroughly-researched 2011 volume, “ACC Basketball”, which chronicles the first two decades of the Atlantic Coast Conference, historian J. Samuel Walker manages to encapsulate the antipathy of the Big Four North Carolina programs toward their conference “step-sisters”. The title of his sixth chapter, which documents the rise of Virginia, Maryland, Clemson and, most notably, South Carolina, to competitiveness within the ACC is titled “The Revolt of the Also-Rans”.

Indeed, the University of South Carolina had not achieved particular distinction on the field or the court during its first 13 years in the ACC. Between 1953, when the conference was founded, and 1965, South Carolina had compiled conference records of 38-41-3 in football, and more dismally, 46-118 in basketball. In short, the Carolina fan base was hungry for a winner. With McGuire and Dietzel now leading their respective programs, visions of championships took hold of coaches, players and fans alike.

McGuire was firmly entrenched, one season under his belt with a fine sophomore class of Frank Standard, Jack Thompson and Skip Harlicka ready to begin varsity play for the 1965-66 season. Three games into the season, McGuire achieved the first of what would be many signature victories at USC in a thrilling 73-71 win against Duke at Carolina Fieldhouse. Although the Gamecocks would end up with a losing tally at 11-13 on the season, the squad was competitive throughout and played with a toughness that was a hallmark of McGuire teams. It would be McGuire’s last losing season at South Carolina.

Meanwhile, on the freshman team Mike Grosso was enjoying a banner season and dominating the competition. He averaged 22.7 points and an unbelievable 26 rebounds per game. The freshman squad often enjoyed sellout crowds, unheard of before, and excitement continued to build around McGuire’s program.

As Grosso led the freshman squad and Gamecock fans salivated over what was to come when he joined the varsity, a controversy unfolded over his eligibility. The ACC had adopted a rule in May, 1964 which set a standard score of 800 on the SAT for incoming athletes to receive a scholarship. In Grosso’s efforts to qualify for admission to South Carolina, his highest SAT score was a 789 – high enough to earn admission into the school but not enough to earn a scholarship. Under ACC rules in place when Grosso enrolled at Carolina, athletes scoring less than 800 on the SAT were permitted to play basketball or football, so long as they were not awarded a scholarship.

Grosso could have gone to any school of his choice outside of the ACC and qualified for a scholarship, but he wanted to play for McGuire. Grosso’s family was of modest means, but his uncles owned a bar and grill in New Jersey where Grosso worked during the summers. The uncles agreed to pay Grosso’s tuition until he could attain eligibility for a scholarship. Meanwhile, Duke’s Athletic Director Eddie Cameron – who also chaired the conference basketball committee – maneuvered behind the scenes to encourage ACC Commissioner Weaver to look deeper into Grosso’s recruitment. Weaver had been uncomfortable with the Grosso situation, but had no choice under the rules then in place but to allow Grosso to participate.

With Cameron’s prompting, the ACC changed eligibility requirements to stipulate that a player must attain a minimum of 800 on the SAT to participate, not just to receive a scholarship. Although the action did not apply retroactively to Grosso, the controversy would not die. During Grosso’s freshman season (’65-’66), Cameron announced that Duke would refuse to play against South Carolina when Grosso moved up to varsity the following year, potentially forfeiting those two games to make a statement. Cameron’s statement, according to him, was about upholding the spirit of the academic standards established by the conference. However, the personal acrimony between Cameron and McGuire, which intensified when Grosso spurned Duke for South Carolina, was glaring.

Meanwhile, as the investigation into violations within Carolina’s football program unfolded, Weaver obtained the means he needed to head off Grosso’s eligibility. In penning the sanctions levied against Carolina for the football team’s violations, which would hold athlete’s ineligible for competition “whose eligibility is questioned” by the conference, Weaver cast a broad net, covering not just football, but any South Carolina athlete. It is not a stretch to presume the ruling was crafted with Grosso in mind.

Jones and McGuire along with assistant athletic director George Terry attended a meeting of the ACC executive committee at the Triangle Motel at Raleigh-Durham Airport on October 28, 1966 to appeal Weaver’s decision on Grosso’s eligibility. After meeting for four hours, executive committee head Dr. Ralph Fadum of North Carolina State advised the USC contingent that they saw no cause to overrule Weaver’s decision on Grosso. Neither Weaver nor Fadum provided an explanation regarding why Grosso was ruled ineligible. A report titled “The Offcourt Uproar In Dixie” which appeared in the November 7, 1966 edition of Sports Illustrated noted that McGuire had to be “physically restrained by Dr. Jones” following the ruling. McGuire saw the ruling as a personal vendetta against him by old ACC enemies. Grosso, McGuire believed, was unfairly caught in the crosshairs with the start of his varsity career just weeks away.

In public appearances during the coming days, McGuire complained bitterly about the Grosso decision, calling ACC officials “skunks” on several occasions and insisting that the investigation and ruling arose from personal vendettas. McGuire’s remarks drew sharp criticism and calls for a reprimand from coaches, athletic directors and presidents of other ACC institutions. North Carolina State chancellor John Caldwell told Jones that he had “some repair work” to do, adding that nothing short of an institutional apology could remedy the situation, insinuating that even that might not be enough.

Indeed, the Grosso affair and McGuire’s subsequent public disparagement of ACC officials had opened a deep chasm between South Carolina and the other member schools. Despite his own misgivings about the ACC’s handling of the Grosso affair, Jones’ mercurial basketball coach had become a loose canon, putting him in the awkward position having to make amends on behalf of the University.

During a meeting of ACC presidents and athletic directors in early December, 1966, Jones offered an apology for McGuire’s comments, which he described as embarrassing, both to the University and the conference. He went on to note that McGuire had been reprimanded; giving his personal guarantee that such behavior would not be repeated. This mea culpa had the intended result of reducing tensions, however ACC officials did not reciprocate Jones’ attempts at reconciliation. Conference officials issued an unprecedented announcement that members could choose to cancel their basketball games with USC during the 1966-67 season without forfeit. Duke was the only school to take advantage of this option. Duke further opted not to play South Carolina during the 1966 football season. The two schools would square off on the baseball diamond during the spring of ’67, resulting in two wins by the Gamecocks.

The Grosso ruling prompted calls from University alumni to withdraw from the ACC. The clamor became boisterous enough that President Jones and McGuire issued a joint statement to address the matter – both supporting continued membership in the ACC. This quelled a growing rebellion for the time being. But irreparable damage had been done, both to the University’s relations with its fellow conference members, and to the perceived value of conference membership among South Carolina alumni and boosters.

Supporters of the University saw the ruling as further evidence of political dominance by the North Carolina schools within the conference. The leaders involved – ACC Commissioner Weaver (Wake Forest), ACC Basketball Committee Chairman Cameron (Duke) and Executive Committee Head Fadum (N.C. State) tend to bear that out. Indeed, the power structure of the ACC was firmly entrenched along Tobacco Road.

It would be naïve to deny that politics were in play in the Grosso affair, given the Big Four-centric governing body and the bitter feuds between McGuire and those same conference leaders. Set against the backdrop of the Gamecocks’ competitive emergence within the conference, elements of politics and spite among ACC leadership cannot be ruled out. However it is helpful to set those elements aside and examine the facts surrounding Grosso’s eligibility.

While a high school senior in New Jersey, Grosso’s SAT scores never reached 750, the minimum for competition in the ACC at the time of his recruitment. Upon his graduation, he took the exams again, this time on the campus of the University of South Carolina. The Educational Testing Service (ETS) of Princeton, New Jersey was the governing body, which prepared and administered the board exam. ETS guidelines dictated that it would accept and recognize one College Board exam taken under university auspices. Grosso’s first attempt at the SAT in Columbia resulted in a 706 score, still leaving him short of qualifying. This score was sent to the ACC offices and was the official score recognized by the ETS.

Grosso took the SAT once more in September of 1965, again on the campus of the University of South Carolina. This time he scored 789, which would qualify him for competition in the ACC. Under the rules of the ETS however, only one exam taken under the auspices of a university was recognized. Thus, Grosso’s second attempt was not recognized by the ETS, and was not sent to the ACC offices. Therein lies the fly in the ointment for South Carolina. While the University contended that Grosso met “our requirements” for admission, the ACC maintained that he was ineligible for competition on the basis of his first, and only official College Board score.

Would the Grosso affair have evolved as it did without the ill will between McGuire and Cameron & Weaver, et al? Likely not. Did the ACC’s Grosso decision hinge on an obscure technicality? Most certainly, it did. But it was enough to keep Grosso out of the lineup for the opening game of his sophomore season against Erskine in early December, 1966. His varsity career at South Carolina now seemed tenuous at best, though he continued to practice with the Gamecocks while the University appealed his status.

The death knell to Grosso’s tenure at USC came on January 8, 1967 when the NCAA announced the results of its own investigation into the football and basketball programs at USC. The investigation had centered on the financial assistance that South Carolina had provided the three football players in Coach Bass’ tenure. The NCAA also voiced support for the ACC’s position on Grosso’s eligibility, citing the irregularities around his second board exam under university auspices. Further, the NCAA determined that Grosso’s expenses had been paid by “a corporation upon which the student-athlete was neither naturally or legally dependent”. The “corporation” was a reference to the bar owned by Grosso’s uncles and the tuition assistance provided by them.

The penalties announced by the NCAA were harsh. The University’s football and basketball teams were barred from postseason tournaments or bowl games and could not appear on NCAA-sanctioned television broadcasts for two years. Further, and most devastating, the NCAA made it clear that if USC did not get its house in order quickly, the University could be suspended from NCAA membership. It was a humiliating ruling for South Carolina and a black mark on the University’s credibility.

President Jones admonished McGuire that he was to refrain from comment on the investigation and was to follow the “letter and spirit” of the ACC and NCAA rulings.

In the aftermath of the NCAA’s announcement, McGuire used his connections to help Grosso transfer to the University of Louisville, where he received a scholarship and played behind the great Wes Unseld during his first season before starting his final two seasons. Grosso averaged 16.2 points and 14.2 rebounds per game during his time at Louisville. The young man whose college career began with such promise never suited up for a varsity game at South Carolina. Rather than leading the Gamecocks to championships, as McGuire boldly predicted, Mike Grosso is a footnote – albeit a significant one – in the athletic history of the University.

In the wake of the Grosso controversy, South Carolina’s new football coach and athletic director would develop his own misgivings about the ACC’s admission standards which would ultimately determine the University’s path toward major independent status.


As the Grosso controversy unfolded, the NCAA instituted a new rule to address minimum academic standards for “student-athletes”, a new term coined by the governing body. In a 1965 study commissioned by the NCAA, a committee determined that it was possible to predict an athlete’s first year college grade point average (GPA) on the basis of high school rank and scores on the College Board Exam. The NCAA set a bar of 1.6 out of a 4.0 system (equivalent to a C-minus) for an incoming student-athlete’s “projected” GPA. Further, the student-athletes would need to maintain a minimum of 1.6 GPA during their college career to maintain eligibility. This 1.6 minimum rule was effective January 1, 1966 and, despite some controversy, was widely supported by member institutions as a step in the right direction in addressing academic standards throughout college sports.

The 1.6 mandate created a sharp divide within the ACC regarding the need to maintain its own 800 standard in light of the NCAA’s new rule. South Carolina’s Paul Dietzel led the charge for those institutions wishing to scrap the 800 standard in lieu of the NCAA’s less stringent 1.6 regulation. Clemson, Maryland and N.C. State, sided with South Carolina, while Duke, UNC, Wake Forest and Virginia remained adamant about maintaining the 800 standard for the ACC.

Upon taking the South Carolina job, Dietzel was alarmed by the ACC’s dismal record of futility against non-conference opponents in football. Indeed, the ACC ranked last among all conferences in terms of non-conference victories. Against the SEC in particular, the ACC had compiled an embarrassing record of 19 wins against 105 losses since 1953. This was particularly distressing to Dietzel as South Carolina’s recruiting footprint overlapped with SEC schools to a greater extent than the other ACC programs, with the exception of Clemson. In a case of politics making strange bedfellows, Clemson’s football coach and athletic director Frank Howard became Dietzel’s most vocal ally in the anti-800 argument.

Dietzel sought to raise the profile and competitiveness of the Gamecock program in scheduling a strong non-conference slate, including likes of Georgia, Florida State, Alabama and Tennessee, among others. All of those programs, which boasted well-established football traditions, were subject only to the NCAA’s 1.6 rule. Dietzel saw a distinct disadvantage for his program, and argued vigorously that the 800 standard hamstrung USC and other ACC programs.

Set against the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement and the integration of public schools and universities throughout the South, there was an important racial element to Dietzel’s argument. Dietzel told USC President Tom Jones in 1970, “It’s going to be very difficult to explain to people around here, that of all the fine black athletes playing in our newly integrated high schools, we cannot find one of them who can attend his state university.” Indeed, Jones went so far as to refer to the 800 minimum as a “racist regulation”, and questioned the morality of the conference.

Jones’ sentiments were echoed by Clemson president Robert Edwards, who lamented that the standard created a major obstacle for black athletes wishing to participate in sports at his school. Citing 1965 data, Edwards reported that 93.4 percent of black high school seniors in the state of South Carolina who took the SAT that year scored below 800.

The irony of South Carolina’s two major universities standing as lonely beacons of hope and justice for black athletes was not lost on observers in the press and throughout the conference. South Carolina had, perhaps to a greater degree than other states within the ACC footprint, fought integration and subjugated African-Americans throughout its history. As the only truly Deep South state in the ACC, South Carolina’s racial and political identity was more closely aligned with fellow Deep South states Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi.

Though South Carolina did not experience the widespread violence that plagued the civil rights era in Alabama and Mississippi, it was not without incident. On February 8, 1968, approximately 200 protesters gathered on the campus of South Carolina State University (SCSU) in Orangeburg to protest racial segregation at a local bowling alley. As police and firefighters attempted to extinguish a bonfire set by the protesters, an object thrown from the crowd injured a police officer. Within minutes, officers from the State Highway Patrol began firing into the crowd, injuring 27 and killing three. Of the three killed, two were students at SCSU and one was a student at local Wilkinson High School. The latter, Delano Middleton, had not been a participant in the protests, but was sitting on the steps of the freshman dormitory, waiting for his mother to finish her work shift. Many of the injured were shot in the back, as they attempted to flee the scene.

The incident, which predated the Kent State shootings by two years, became known as the Orangeburg Massacre. In a press conference the following day, Governor Robert McNair called it “one of the saddest days in the history of South Carolina.” He placed the blame for the incident on “outside agitators” from the black power movement. The federal government brought charges against nine members of the highway patrol, who claimed in their defense that they felt threatened by the protesters and had heard gunshots coming from the crowd. Though forensic evidence and witness testimony strongly contradicted those statements, the nine officers were acquitted.

The University itself had only integrated five years earlier, when, acting upon the order of a federal court, USC admitted three black students. On the morning of September 11, 1963, Henrie Monteith, Robert Anderson and James Solomon completed registration for fall classes at the Naval Armory on campus. It was 1969 before Carolina’s athletic teams integrated. Casey Manning (basketball) and Jackie Brown (football) were the first African-Americans to letter at USC, while Carlton Hayward was the first African-American to be recruited to play football. Dietzel, realizing the need for a better connection with African-American athletes, hired a black assistant coach, Harold White, in 1971 to assist in recruiting and academics.


From Simmer to Boil

By 1970, the situation between USC and its ACC brethren reached a boiling point. After winning the ACC title in 1969, Dietzel’s in-state recruiting was taking off. Of the ten “blue chip” in-state players Dietzel eyed, only two had managed the requisite score of 800 on the SAT. Beyond the 1970 recruiting class, Sumter’s Freddie Solomon promised to be the most celebrated recruit of Dietzel’s tenure in 1971, though the ACC’s 800 standard remained a serious roadblock*. Dietzel vented his frustrations to President Jones, lamenting that he was tired of watching high school players from South Carolina go onto all-American careers at Big Ten and Big Eight schools, only because they were barred from competition within the ACC by the onerous 800 rule.

The NCAA expressed support for Dietzel’s stance, noting that it was against the ACC’s use of a minimum cutoff score. Further, the 800-rule had caught the attention of the federal government, which was investigating colleges and universities across the South for prejudicial admissions standards.

(footnote: Solomon did not score the requisite 800 on his SAT and went on to star at the University of Tampa, from there playing eleven years for the Dolphins and 49ers of the NFL. In the 1982 NFC Championship game, made famous by “The Catch” – Dwight Clark’s iconic leaping touchdown grab, Solomon was the primary target on the play. Quarterback Joe Montana checked off to Clark when Solomon slipped on his route. Solomon figured prominently for the 49ers on the final and deciding drive of that game.)

On October 21, 1970, amid continuing acrimony between member institutions over the 800-rule, ACC presidents met to discuss the matter. They ultimately opted to table the matter and pursue additional studies on the effects of dropping the rule in favor of another predictive model. Two days later, the University of South Carolina’s Board of Trustees took the matter into their own hands, authorizing Gamecock coaches to recruit on the basis of the NCAA’s 1.6 standard. While they pledged that the University would continue to work towards a solution with the ACC, it was a brazen act of institutional defiance.

South Carolina had thrown down the proverbial gauntlet, which forced Clemson into the position of choosing a course of action. Though Clemson’s Edwards and Howard shared Carolina’s stance on the 800 controversy, they were less inclined to bolt the ACC. Despite a popular misconception among Carolina faithful, there was never a “pact” between USC and Clemson officials to leave the conference together. Clemson ultimately chose to remain in the conference, while South Carolina charted its own course. On March 28, 1971 the Board of Trustees announced that the University would withdraw from the conference on August 15 of that year.

In a statement read by Board of Trustees Chairman, T. Eston Marchant following a daylong meeting to discuss the matter, the Board sounded an optimistic tone. Marchant cited national legislation then under review, which would “remove the areas of disagreement which presently exist (between USC and the ACC).” The statement went on to express hopes that the separation would be of a “temporary nature”. Newly elected ACC commissioner Bob James attended a portion of the meeting and expressed similar optimism for reconciliation after returning to his home in Greensboro, North Carolina. “I was really impressed with the sincerity of the South Carolina people… I came away with the feeling that they want and would like to be in the ACC.”

The measured optimism of USC’s Board and the ACC’s new commissioner were balanced by comments from other officials who sounded a tone of resignation, bordering on indifference. Maryland Athletic Director Jim Kehoe, in addressing the scheduling difficulties presented by South Carolina’s withdrawal, noted that “It would seem to be more sensible to compete with teams 150 miles away than one 300 miles away.” He added, “I’m sorry the matter couldn’t be resolved, but realistically, South Carolina had gone too far down the road to remain in the conference.”

And so, just over two weeks after winning the coveted and elusive ACC Basketball Tournament Championship, the University of South Carolina officially announced a parting of the ways with the Atlantic Coast Conference. It was just hours before the basketball team would meet for their annual post-season banquet to celebrate that championship.

Ironically, the 800-rule controversy was resolved shortly after Carolina’s exit when two students at Clemson University filed suit in federal court against Clemson and the ACC. Their attorneys argued that the 800-rule deprived them of their Constitutional rights under the 14th amendment since the rule applied only to athletes. On August 7, 1971, a federal court ruled that the ACC’s 800 standard was “arbitrary and capricious”, and was “not based on valid reasoning”, as it set a standard for athletes that did not apply to other students. On August 18th, 1971, just three days after the University of South Carolina officially relinquished its membership, the ACC dropped the embattled 800-rule.

ACC football and basketball coaches would now recruit on equal footing with other NCAA programs, much to their delight. Moreover, with McGuire’s Gamecocks removed from the equation, the Big Four North Carolina schools would continue to dominate the ACC in basketball, collectively winning ten of the next eleven ACC Championships between 1972 and 1983.*

(footnote: South Carolina’s ’71 squad was only the second non-Big Four school to win the ACC Basketball Championship – the first was Maryland in 1958. In the 62-year history of the conference, there have been only twelve non-Big Four basketball champions (18.75%) with four of those coming in an unprecedented stretch of four straight between 2012 and 2015. That streak marked only the second stretch of consecutive non-Big Four champions, with the first coming from Maryland and Georgia Tech in 1984 and 1985 respectively. Of the original four “non-Big Four” members of the ACC, there are a combined six championships {Maryland 3, Virginia 2, USC 1} Clemson has never won an ACC Basketball title. Maryland left the ACC for the Big Ten Conference in July 2014).

The University of South Carolina meanwhile, was now a Major Independent. It joined the likes of Florida State, Notre Dame, Penn State, West Virginia and Virginia Tech in that relatively small world of major universities unaffiliated by conference. August 15, 1971 would mark the beginning of a twenty-year journey – a winding wilderness road that would ultimately end on July 1, 1991, when the University happily accepted an invitation to join the SEC. In the warm afterglow of a quarter century in the SEC, the events of those two decades are often overlooked by the sports world, and even by Gamecock faithful.

But there are stories to tell.




Midnight on the Mountain

I knew we were in trouble when they turned on the light bar. The pickup sat there across the small gravel parking lot from our campsite – it’s headlamps ominously aimed at our tents. And now the million-lumen light bar, which lit us up like stadium lights. It was a horrible thing, the truck. Idling like a ravenous beast. It was a full size American-made truck of an indeterminate make in the post mid-night darkness. If Stephen King were Southern, this truck would have been his Christine, except it would be named “Bocephus” or “Delmar”. It had massive, knobby tires and one of those after-market muffler set-ups that made the engine roar at an ear-piercing decibel. A tattered Confederate battle flag hung defiantly from an antenna on the right fender. It was a nightmare. A redneck’s wet dream.

We sat in our tents paralyzed. What the fuck were these guys up to? Melissa tried in vain to get a signal on her cell. Chase, our 13-year old nephew was in his own tent a dozen feet away. Ours were the only two tents around.

The truck had come down the mountain on a jeep road just a few minutes earlier and, seeing our tents, the derelicts decided to have a little fun at our expense. They spun out, doing figure eights and slinging gravel, the howling engine at full octave. We were initially annoyed. But then they backed into the corner of the lot and stopped, headlamps in our direction. When the light bar came on, annoyance evaporated into fear. I was on this mountain with my wife and my nephew. I was responsible for their safety. My mind raced with a hundred different scenarios, none of which were good. I didn’t have a gun. We didn’t have a signal. It was 1am. We were completely vulnerable.

The truck idled in a low growl, menacing and aggrieved. It occurred to me that it was a Friday night (now Saturday morning), and these idiots had been out partying. They were drunk at a minimum, but who knows what else they’d been up to. Meth is rampant in these Appalachian backwaters. They had guns, no doubt. No way they didn’t have guns. What were they doing? Planning? Were they still just fucking with us or had their whiskey-addled brains gone to a darker place? It seemed entirely possible that they could walk down into the campsite and… God knows what.

After a few minutes the truck pulled forward and stopped adjacent to us at the edge of the campsite, only thirty feet away now. One of the two rednecks got out of the passenger side and walked around the truck. He seemed agitated. I could make out enough of him in the waxing moonlight to determine that he looked exactly as I’d expected. Long, stringy hair, cutoff t-shirt – straight out of central casting. There were faint aromas of pine and burnt motor oil and cheep beer.

He reached for something in the bed of the truck and my heart pounded so hard I was afraid they’d hear it. I could hear muffled conversation but couldn’t make anything out. If they walked down into the campsite, I would have to get out of the tent – I would need to address them – try my diplomatic skills – attempt to diffuse the situation. But I knew that if they walked down there, things would turn very ugly very quickly.

I prayed they wouldn’t, and I cursed myself for choosing this campsite, only a few tenths of a mile from the highway and easily accessible. What had begun as such a good day – an excellent day on the trail and at camp had turned into a nightmare. I felt at that moment like we were on the verge of something violent and terrible. Perhaps death. Or worse. It didn’t seem beyond the realm of possibility. It felt real and close and almost scripted – as if there were no other way for it to end.

To my immense relief, the redneck got back in the truck after what seemed an eternity. They spun more donuts, the monstrous engine roaring, enraged. And then, just as quickly as they’d arrived they were gone. We heard them tear down the gravel access road and then turn onto the highway, the roar of the engine growing more distant as they lumbered into the dark night.

We’d been given a reprieve, but we knew there would be no return to sleep. What if they came back? What if they were going to get more buddies? We were completely vulnerable at our camp. There was only one thing to do. I called out to Chase to grab his shoes and headlamp. We were going back to the trail. We wouldn’t bother with packing – it was more urgent than that. We needed to find a safe place now.

We accessed the trail at the northwest corner of the Laurel Valley parking lot, climbing a couple dozen steps away from the lot and onto the trail proper. We sat there at the top of the steps for a few minutes, listening and trying to comprehend what had just happened. The surge in adrenaline left my legs rubbery. My lungs burned. I had to make a concerted effort to control my breathing.

We whispered to each other and this was reassuring. Just being back among the trees and away from view made us feel safe. After a few minutes it occurred to me that the trail paralleled the jeep road for quite a way – perhaps a mile back west, and if they did come back we would be vulnerable in our current position. Having accepted the reality that there would be no return to camp until daylight, we began walking back in the direction we had come that day – westward through the inky black of deep night.

The trail looked and felt different in the dark. Our headlamps, set to tactical red, cast shaky beams of muted light, illuminating our next few steps but not much beyond. There was an electric sense of urgency and as we walked through the corridor of hemlocks and pines, we listened in nervous anticipation of the truck’s return. Somehow we sensed that they were not quite done with us.

After about a mile, we came to a spot where the trail intersected with the jeep road again at a sharp curve. We descended steps down to the crossing, cautious, slow, headlamps off, listening for any movement. We quickly climbed back onto the trail on the opposite side of the intersection and ascended another hundred feet or so westward until we felt sufficiently safe.

We sat one in front of the other on some steps along the trail. Chase, in front and below, Melissa in the middle, then me. We could make out the jeep road below us, faint moonlight reflecting off the sandy surface through a thin veil of pine branches. We continued to try 911 intermittently with no success. We were stuck for the night and sat uncomfortably, knowing there would be no sleep. It was now around 2am.

Suddenly we saw headlamps below and to our right, and heard the crunch of tires on gravel. Before we could even comprehend what was happening an SUV was directly below us on the jeep road. We realized with alarm that we were much closer to the road than we’d realized. We sat frozen. The SUV stopped and someone inside began searching the hillside with a spotlight. I hissed to “get down!” We found ourselves in the surreal position of being on our stomachs, faces I the dirt in the middle of the trail, another set of hooligans below us.

These weren’t our rednecks from earlier but who were they? Did they know we were here? Had they seen us? The searchlight switched off and the SUV began to pull forward, away from us and down the road. We were up in a flash and walking again with renewed urgency.

We walked another half mile or so until we came to a spot with some steps that seemed sufficiently far back from the jeep road. I knew the road was still not far away, but we couldn’t see it any longer, which seemed marginally safer. We sat down in the same arrangement as before, front to back. We speculated about what might be happening back at our camp, and what it might look like when we returned at sun-up. We assumed it would be ransacked.

We settled in the best we could, alternately leaning on one another and shifting frequently. The temperature had dropped to the mid 60’s – uncomfortably cool with no jacket. Melissa had thought to bring water, but her bottle was less than a quarter full, so we rationed our sips carefully. We were all parched. We felt safer now, and talked in muted whispers about the events of the night. We tried the cell occasionally and still had no success despite being higher on the mountain.

We marked time and tried to nap. We did our best to get through the night, shivering and battling boredom. The boredom was ironic, given all of the excitement. I realized that I had left my hiking pole at the other set of steps when we had to scramble away. We sat in the dark in the middle of the Foothills Trail and we were completely unafraid of bears or snakes. Sitting exposed in the wee hours, wild animals were not our concern. Only people.

Gradually the hours slipped by and around 6am a faint, early  light began to filter through the trees. We cautiously made our way back toward camp. Despite lingering trepidation, it was invigorating and restorative to be up moving again. We made good time, gaining confidence in proportion to the strengthening light as we walked. We were eager to see what condition our camp might be in, and to pack and be on our way. We were tired but energized all the same.

At the steps leading down to the parking lot I motioned for Melissa and Chase to stop, and I made my way down slowly, the parking lot and campsite revealing themselves by degree with each step. It was perfectly still. The gravel under my feet and birds, full in their morning song, were the only sounds. I motioned for them to come on down.

Walking across the parking lot, the crazed tire tracks obvious in figure-eight gouges of the surface dirt. It was evidence that last night was real and not some shared horror dream. We got to camp and everything was intact. We were relieved and quickly set about breaking down tents and loading packs. Within twenty minutes we were loaded and walking.

We decided to walk down to the highway where we could pump water from Estatoe Creek under the Highway 178 overpass. We ate breakfast here too, just off the road at the edge of a private drive. It was an overcast morning and muggy. Cars flew by, drivers oblivious to us on the highway. Before long we were on the move, picking up the trail on the east side of the highway.

We finished the trail that day, despite plans for one more night of camping, reaching the car at Table Rock State Park after a long fourteen miles or so. We’d seen two black bears on our hike that day, which was thrilling, but also solidified our resolve to push on. After the drama of the night before, camping in an area where we’d seen multiple bears just wasn’t appealing. We had experienced our fill of drama. We were eager to get to the car, to a hotel in Greenville. To have a shower and sleep in a comfortable bed. We were emotionally and physically exhausted.

We arrived at Table Rock around 5pm and found our car where we had left it a week before. Melissa and I had completed all seventy-seven miles of the Foothills Trail – something that had long been on my bucket list. Moreover, we had survived the night before and learned some things along the way. Principally, that I will never again camp without a weapon. This saddens me, but camping unarmed – at least along the East Coast – no longer seems prudent. To be clear, I would not have handled the situation any differently if I had been armed. But it would have been a comfort to know a weapon was available had things deteriorated further. I also learned that in our part of the world, where there are no Grizzlies, bears are nothing to be overly concerned about. People are a different story.

More importantly though, I learned that we were pretty good in a crisis. All of us. We worked well together, we stayed calm and we thought through our best options. We took action when we needed to and we laid low when it made sense. We didn’t let fear paralyze us. I was proud of Chase for his bravery and cool calm. I was impressed, as always, with Melissa for her toughness and spirit of adventure. We were a good team.

We survived to hike another day.