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Nos. 68 and 86: Mike and Marlin McKeever

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 68:
= Keith Van Horn, USC football
= Mike McKeever, USC football
= Frank Cornish, UCLA football
= Ross Stripling, Los Angeles Dodgers

The most obvious choices for No. 86:
= Marlin McKeever, USC football, Los Angeles Rams
= Jack Bighead, Pepperdine football; Los Angeles Rams


The most interesting story for No. 68 and No. 86:
= Mike McKeever, USC football offensive and defensive guard (1957 to 1960)
= Marlin McKeever, USC football offensive and defensive end / fullback / punter (1957 to 1960); Los Angeles Rams tight end / linebacker (1961 to 1966, 1971 to 1972).

Southern California map pinpoints:
South Los Angeles, the Coliseum, Montebello, Long Beach

You betcha, the way Marlin and Mike McKeever’s lives started made for a nifty ice breaker when Groucho Marx had them on his TV show in March of 1961.

So it was during a blizzard on New Year’s Day 1940, on the plains in Cheyenne, Wyoming, when Marlin arrived first. Mike followed 10 minutes later.

The thing is, their parents were told by the doctor to only expect a girl. Just one at that.

“They already named her — Mary Ann I believe,” Mike told Groucho with a chuckle as he and Marlin, along with their new brides, Judy and Susie, made to NBC Studios in Hollywood for a filming of what was then called “The Groucho Show,” an offshoot of the more famous title “You Bet Your Life.”

Their days as USC All-American football giants had just ended. When the 1960 season ended, they had a double wedding ceremony at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church in L.A., just blocks away from the USC campus. Later that month, they were drafted by the Los Angeles Rams.

Groucho Marx took a puff of his cigar, sized up the pair of crew-cut, 6-foot-1 and 225-pounders, and remarked: “Imagine getting all set for a baby girl named Mary Ann and suddenly these two show up.”

Groucho was fascinated with how their parents distinguished the two. Marlin said it was by writing their names in Mercurochrome on their stomachs.

“How do you know they weren’t confused?” Groucho asked. “How do you know they didn’t paint the wrong name?”

Mike spoke up: “I’ve thought about that — it’s pretty depressing so I don’t think about it too much.”

Added Marlin: “He can’t think too much, that’s the problem.”

Suddenly, they were the Smothers Brothers.

As Marlin’s wife Susie listed all the twins’ list of achievements at USC, Groucho had to ask: “Well how do you know all this?”

“I kept a scrapbook,” she replied.

A stuffed duck looking like Grouch dropped down from the ceiling to fanfare. She had said the secret word — book. When George Fenneman doled $50 each to the men, to split the $100 prize, they handed it over to their wives.

They were, after all, Academic All-Americans too.

The background

From a Life magazine 1959 profile on the McKeever twins at USC.

The McKeevers were most definitely the biggest men on campus at Mount Carmel High in South L.A. from 1953 to ’57.

The all-boys Catholic school took over 70th Street between Hoover and Vermont, just 20 years old at the time. The Carmelite Order that would later found Crespi High in Encino made sports an integral part of its curriculum to attract students.

Continue reading “Nos. 68 and 86: Mike and Marlin McKeever” →

No. 83: Cormac Carney

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 83:
= Willie “Flipper” Anderson, UCLA football, Los Angeles Rams
= Ted “The Mad Stork” Hendricks, Los Angeles Raiders
= Richard “Batman” Wood, USC football

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 83:
= Jimmy Gunn, USC football
= Cormac Carney, UCLA football
= Willie Hall, USC football

The most interesting story for No. 83:
= Cormac Carney, UCLA football wide receiver (1980 to 1982)
Southern California map pinpoints:
Long Beach, Westwood, Santa Ana

Cormac Carney, center, speaks during a KidWorks Foundation for Success luncheon in Santa Ana in 2022 where former UCLA coach Terry Donahue was honored by players he coached. (Scott Smeltzer / Daily Pilot)

Judging by Cormac Carney’s commitment to competent jurisprudence compiled over three decades until his retirement in May of 2024, you’d think the one-time UCLA wide receiver would be satisfied with his dedication to public service.

On on scale, President George W. Bush thought enough of Carney to nominate him as a U.S. federal district judge, receiving unanimous approval by the U.S. Senate. It was a promotion after just two years as a California state superior court judge.

On the other side, Kamala Harris once thought enough of Carney to wonder what the heck he was thinking when he tried to apply the U.S. Constitution’s Eighth Amendment to a particular death penalty case that seemed to usurp her role as the California attorney general. California Governor Gavin Newsom thought the same when his bill limiting handgun ownership was squashed by Carney, citing the Second Amendment.

The catch here: Carney had an overarching dream to be a football player. But as he compiled 108 catches for 1,909 yards and eight touchdowns during three seasons as UCLA –leaving the program as a career leader in several categories in the early 1980s — Carney was also a three-time Academic All-American and nominated for a Rhodes Scholarship.

There are notable examples of footballers-turned-adjudicators — Byron “Whizzer” White, the University of Colorado’s first All-American who is not only in the College Football Hall of Fame but served more than 30 years as a U.S. Supreme Court justice; Alan Page, the first African-American to become a Minnesota Supreme Court judge after his NFL Hall of Fame career as a defensive tackle with the Vikings.

Then there was Cormac Carney, a name best suited to describe an overloaded chili dog special on the menu at Barney’s Beanery.

Los Angeles Times columnist Jim Murray once wrote: “(His name) is like a diesel train. You can’t tell which is the front end. You can’t tell whether it’s coming or going. … Is it a real name? You roll it around on your tongue like an Elizabethan iamb.”

His teammates were apt to call him “Cormac the Magnificent,” riffing off the character that “Tonight Show” host Johnny Carson used for his running joke of the fortune teller “Carnac the Magnificent.”

Carney made a name for himself in Westwood and that helped if he was ever full of beans while grilled by the media, or later challenged by an appellant court just for one of his many rulings.

UCLA’s Cormac Carney (83) is sandwiched between Michigan’s Marian Body (3) and Paul Girgash (50) in the fourth quarter of the Bluebonnet Bowl game at Houston on Jan. 1, 1981. Carney had just pulled in a 20-yard pass from his quarterback Steve Bono. UCLA lost, 26-14. (AP Photo)

Continue reading “No. 83: Cormac Carney” →

No. 20: Darryl Henley

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 20:

= Luc Robitaille, Los Angeles Kings
= Don Sutton, Los Angeles Dodgers and California Angels
= Mike Garrett, USC football

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 20:
= Leon Wood, Cal State Fullerton basketball
= Carlos Ruiz, Los Angeles Galaxy

The most interesting story for No. 20:
Darryl Henley, Los Angeles Rams defensive back (1989 to 1994), via Damien High in La Verne and UCLA
Southern California map pinpoints:
Baldwin Villages, Duarte, Ontario, Upland, La Verne, Westwood, Anaheim, Brea, Santa Ana

A new approach at “Twenty Questions” may help explain Darryl Henley, who went from No. 2 at UCLA and became a 2.0 version of himself wearing No. 20 during six years as a Los Angeles Rams’ defensive back, only to see it come out with consecutive prison sentences of about 20 years each.

His story was what reality TV show producers and true-crime podcasters salivated over. But it’s a big more complicated.

Today, Henley continues to serve a 41-year, three-month sentence that combines a guilty verdict in a trial he endured for drug trafficking, and then came a plea agreement for conspiracy to murder a federal judge and a prosecution witness after bribing a prison guard to smuggle a phone into his jail cell.

See if any of this makes sense:

Continue reading “No. 20: Darryl Henley” →

No. 14: Ted Tollner

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 14:
= Mike Scioscia, Los Angeles Dodgers; Anaheim Angels manager
= Gil Hodges, Los Angeles Dodgers
= Sam Darnold, USC football
= Johan Cruyff, Los Angeles Aztecs
= Drew Olson, UCLA football

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 14:
= Robbie Rogers, Los Angeles Galaxy
= Tom Ramsey, UCLA football
= Justin Williams, Los Angeles Kings
= Edson Buddle, Los Angeles Galaxy
= Sam Perkins, Los Angeles Lakers
= Tina Thompson, USC women’s basketball

The most interesting story for No. 14:
Ted Tollner, Cal Poly San Luis Obispo football quarterback (1958 to 1961)
Southern California map pinpoints:
San Luis Obispo, Los Angeles (Coliseum), Anaheim

Author’s note: San Luis Obispo is commonly considered part of Southern California due to its proximity to Los Angeles. Geographically, it falls within the state’s Central Coast region. For our purposes, it works as a SoCal story.

USC head coach Ted Tollner is carried off the field by team members of the team after an upset of No. 1 Washington on Nov. 10, 1984 at the Coliseum. (Photo by Bob Riha, Jr./Getty Images)

Survive and advance was one way to summarize Ted Tollner’s career as a college and NFL football coach for more than 30 years of his life.

Four of them most notably came when he stepped up and into the legendary lineage of USC’s head man. In his time as the successor to John Robinson between 1984 and ’86, a 26-20-1 record and three bowl appearances, most notable winning the 1985 Rose Bowl in his second season after clinching the Pac-10 title with a 7-1 mark, highlighted his resume before he re-emerged for eight seasons at San Diego State.

Two of his 15 years as an NFL assistant were as the quarterbacks coach for Chuck Knox’s Los Angeles Rams. As the team planted itself in Anaheim, and Jim Everett was Tollner’s main pupil, the teams were hardly spectacular, spurting to 6-10 and 5-11 finishes in 1992 and ’93.

Yet anytime Tollner needed a tolerant reminder that just being on the sidelines and watching a scoreboard clock ticking down was a blessing, even if his left ankle was starting to get a little cranky, he could flash back the time in his life when he was the All-Conference quarterback at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, wearing No. 14.

On a Saturday afternoon, Oct. 29, 1960, Tollner had perhaps his most notable game when he threw for a career-best and school-record 246 yards. It was a bit of an afterthought in that his team list, 50-6 loss, at No. 4 Bowling Green, dropping the Mustangs to 1-5.

That evening, as Tollner and his teammates were wearily boarding a plane to fly back home, something terrible happened.

Their aircraft wrecked on takeoff out of Toledo, Ohio, flipping over and bursting into flames.

It was the first airline crash involving a U.S. sports team.

Of the 22 who died, 16 were Tollner’s teammates. They were in the front of the plane. Tollner was one of 26 survivors, because he agreed to switch seats at the last minute and was sitting in the back.

“Anytime I’m feeling sorry for myself, whether it’s from getting fired or losing a game, (the tragedy) has been my strength,” Tollner would say again and again. “You’re here for whatever reason and getting an opportunity to do something good. I’ve drawn strength from it — for whatever reason you’re spared, so make it a positive thing.”

Continue reading “No. 14: Ted Tollner” →

No. 34: Fernando Valenzuela

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This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage.  Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.

The most obvious choices for No. 34:

= Fernando Valenzuela, Los Angeles Dodgers
= Shaquille O’Neal, Los Angeles Lakers
= Bo Jackson, Los Angeles Raiders

The not-so-obvious choices for No. 34:

= David Greenwood, Verbum Dei High and UCLA basketball
= Nick Adenhart, Los Angeles Angels
= Paul Pierce, Inglewood High, Los Angeles Clippers
= Paul Cameron, UCLA football

The most interesting story for No. 34:
Fernando Valenzuela, Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher (1980 to 1990)
Southern California map pinpoints:
Dodger Stadium, East L.A., Boyle Heights, Los Feliz, La Canada-Flintridge

On November 1, 2024 — the first of the annual two-day celebration of Dia de la Muertos, a Latino-cultural event where family and friends gathering to pay respects to those close to them who have died — Fernando Valenzuela would have turned 64 years old.

But when he had died nine days earlier, it made that day, and the power of the event, even more poignant.

Valenzuela’s passing from a long bout with liver cancer came just two days before the Los Angeles Dodgers started the 2024 World Series against the New York Yankees. The Dodgers wore No. 34 patches on their shoulder in his honor.

By the time November 1 rolled around, the Dodgers were celebrating a five-game championship series victory, riding double-deck buses through the city. Many players, and fans, wore the familiar Valenzuela 34 jersey.

Also on that day, artist Robert Vargas finished the first of a three-panel project on the side of the Boyle Hotel, facing the First Street on-ramp to Interstate 101 in Boyle Heights. The multifaceted image of Valenzuela seemed to make him come to life again.

Scores of ofrendas poppedup up at the base of site, as well as near the freeway and the street. Same at Dodger Stadium and the roads leading into it.

Visiting the mural site almost became going to a religious shrine.

The experience ignited vivid memories of 1981, when fans of all backgrounds swarmed on Dodger Stadium to witness the then-20-year-old from Mexico who only spoke Spanish do things never seen before on a Major League Baseball diamond. Words, in any language, couldn’t describe it.

Especially, as this was happening on the site that once was a dilapidating housing complex for low-income Latino families who unceremoniously were evicted in the late ’50s when the City of L.A. gave the property to the Dodgers to build upon.

At the Vargas mural site, the drone of cars passing by on the freeway provided a constant soundtrack. It was broken up each day Vargas did the mural by a mariachi band, which came from nearby Mariachi Plaza, performed each day at 4 p.m. to give the artistic process a blessing.

“It’s about unity and representation and bringing different cultures together, which Fernando is still doing as we speak,” Vargas told reporters who called him off the scaffolding for interviews.

Boyle Heights born-and-raised, Vargas had, a few months earlier, depicted his vision of newest Dodger star Shohei Ohtani on the side of the Miyako Hotel in Little Tokyo. It was just a mile West of this Valenzuela site, across the bridge that spanned the Los Angeles River. The murals could now serve as cultural touchstones of the city.

As the mural inspired by “Fermandomania” was named “Fernandomania Forever, finished up by early November. To Vargas, and most others who ever saw him play, it reflects an inate feeling that Valenzuela will live forever in the minds of those who still talk about his feats in excited, as well as reverent, tones.

Continue reading “No. 34: Fernando Valenzuela” →