The supposition is that if I call Murry Bowden the developer, Hanover Industries, in Houston Texas and ask the receptionist “I’m a Dartmouth guy and I want to ask Murry Bowden about ‘Ed Marinero'” would she put me through, would he take the call?
I asked Rick Kimball, who himself, doing business as TCV, manages $5Billion in assets, the other night at The Palace and he guessed yes, Murry Bowden would, forty years later, want to talk about playing against and shutting out Ed Marinero, who otherwise led the nation in rushing two years running.
In October of 1985, while serving as Literary Director of The Dartmouth, I interviewed Bowden on the eve of a 15-year anniversary event commemorating the Lambert Trophy-winning Indians, who shut out six of their nine opponents and were undefeated.
What I recall about the research was that Bowden said then that if someone asked Marinero if he remembers the Dartmouth game, Bowden is certain he would remember how hard he was hit, or individual plays, hit and bruises even.
It’s not bragging if you already done it!
Oddly, I never actually wrote the story, on account of a bout a chicken pox that sent me to Dick’s House for the rest of the week. A plebe named Rich Outzen, from nearby to me at least Aragon High of San Mateo, a footballer, writer and ROTC — later star of Brian Moore documentary “Army Green” — picked up my notes, or did his own research and filled the spot on my layouts. I also recall talking to a black lawyer named Bogan. Bowden and Bogan. This was a couple years before Russell Wilson’s dad played, but as a side-bet I reckon that some of the 1970 footballers were following Russell Wilson since well before Seahawks, maybe Wisconsin or what is it North Carolina State, will edit to add. My recent friend Mike Havern, a high school football QB claims plausibly that he followed Wilson as such. HB Wilson, tried out for the NFL Chargers, the rosters were smaller in those days, but was photographed catching a td in Candlestick in the pre-season. Harris B. Wilson, quite an honest fellow, liked his whiskey clear, et cetera.
There was also something I would want to verify that Murry Bowden would spend the first two or three weeks of the term “second floor of Beta” his fraternity i.e. not go to class and then do a 10-week term in 7 of 8 weeks just for yucks, and still graduated with honors and became a billionaire of what-not.
I was fantasizing about asking him: if you put you and Ed in a room, like a giant wrestling room with a mat, and gave you a length of rope, how long would it take before you, and we are talking two senior citizens these days, how long would it take before you catch Ed, flip him over, hog-tie him with your rope and teach him the first three lines, on key “Men of Dartmouth”? Three minutes, three hours, or infinite play / no can do?
I may try this some day, and then the bet would become: how many Dartmouth guys could call Murray Bowen, use this line and get him talking about Ed Marinero before he tires of the story, notwithstanding The Observer Effect or Murry betting against himself, and thereby somehow raking in another cool million, which he would give to charity, natch.
Not that I am advocating actual wagers, just gentlemen or sportsmen type bets.
And I also recall professor of psychology Christian Jernstedt saying not that it happened to him that a class by classical conditioning taught their prof to turn left or turn right based on their response to him. Can we condition Murry Bowden to answer the phone and tell these stories?
His time is worth $1,000 per hour but the memories are priceless.
edit to add: something about all this took me to Richmond, VA where I was on hold for 15 minutes to speak for 12 minutes with attorney John Samuel “Jack” Martin, my old chum, and I was confusing the former Dartmouth trustee Billy King with Los Gatos 1970 Indian signal-caller Jim Chasey from hereabouts in Los Gatos:
Nov 8, 1970 – Chasey, a. Los Gatos, Cali/., senior, lost no time in moving the Indians 77 yards fa 11 plays -for a touchdown in the first five minutes of the game …
I need to search-injun-internal “Jack Martin” to redact or prepare against other slander charges or invasions of privacy, although he chuckled at my claim that I have posted 1,100 times for close to 500,000 words to “a blog with no readers”.
Bob Marley, “Talkin’ blues” from “Natty Dread” good enough outro:
not sure I will get to ask Murry if he listened to Dylan from ’65 up there in Beta:
I actually woke up this morn interviewing Murry Bowden in my head. Terry meanwhile woke up serenading me with Billy Joel “Don’t Go Changing”. Then we wished four boxes of Christmas stuff from her attic and I suggested she feng shui it this year down to three. Although I do favor her manger which has a figurine representing Frida our now-gone Cocker Spaniel as the center of the universe, and rightly so. St. Frida. Maybe we will snort her ashes as Cheryl Strayed — Terry’s hero — claims to do, with her mother. So here I am “sweding” in a picture of Dr. J., Julius Erving, from his UMass days and I calculate that it is a 2 percent chance this is actually Pete Broberg of Dartmouth holding Erving to 11 points. And apparently I am the only person on the internet to tell this story.