ll these years later, it is still easy to remember how much it meant at the time. The year was 1970, and we were the Groton High Crusaders, getting ready to play Lunenburg High for the Wachusett League basketball championship.
We knew all about Lunenburg. Our older brothers had beaten their older brothers for the same title six years earlier. We'd scrimmaged them twice in 1969-70 and won both. We had a starting five that hadn't missed a game in two seasons, and this was going to be the culmination of their careers.
Three days before the game, our coach told us that Lunenburg's best player, Rick Hillman, had rolled his ankle in a holiday tournament game. They'd asked us to postpone the championship game from Saturday to Tuesday to give Hillman time to heal.
John Fahey, who was the John Wooden of Groton basketball at the time, told us he'd agreed to delay the game. When we finally met, a healthy Rick Hillman dropped 31 on our heads and Lunenburg beat us by 5 for the championship.
It stands in my mind as the single most generous act of sportsmanship I can remember. Olympic swimmer John Naber has said, ''A true sportsman wants to compete against his best opponent on his best day.'' When I read that, I think of John Fahey.
Still, I wonder: Would anyone make such a request today? Would any coach dare agree to help out the opponent in such fashion? Would there be an uproar by parents or townsfolk if such a decision was made? Would Fahey be considered a sap instead of a sportsman?
Last summer, I watched a group of Babe Ruth League coaches and parents (trailing by four runs in the final inning) demand and embrace a tournament victory because of a technicality: a 13-year-old boy made a single warmup pitch one inning after he'd been lifted for a pinch runner. The rule was enforced, the score was reversed, and everybody went home after three hours of baseball in the hot sun.
Why bother to try to win it on the field? Rules are rules.
Groton and Lunenburg finished first in their respective divisions of the Wachusett League in 1969-70 (no George O'Leary here, I was a junior forward for Groton who almost never got off the bench). Prior to the championship game, both teams played in the Clark University holiday tournament during February vacation. Groton lost Monday, Lunenburg lost Wednesday, the day Hillman was hurt three days before the league championship game.
Hillman would not be ready for Saturday's big game. Lunenburg coach Richard Stachowicz, now in his 39th year with the Knights, called Fahey to explain his dilemma.
''Jack Fahey was a very honorable man,'' says Stachowicz. ''He took my word for it and said, `I don't want to play anybody for a championship game unless they are at full strength.'''
Fahey remembers, ''We had discussed the possibility of something happening and I just felt it was not right to insist on playing. I thought we could beat them at full strength. I didn't want it to be shallow. I felt I had made a commitment and wanted to honor it.''
Coach told us the next day at practice.
''I remember right where I was standing when he came into the locker room and told us that,'' says Peter Monaco, Groton's senior star guard in 1970. ''I was by the door that led to shop class. He said, `I think they would do it for us, so we're doing it for them.' I don't think anyone objected openly.''
Monaco scored 20 when the game was finally played. But Hillman's 31 buried us.
Today, Monaco and Hillman are both 50. Monaco lives in Dunstable and works as a machinist in Newton. Hillman lives in Maine and owns his own business in Leominster.
''I'm sure I would have tried to have played anyway, but it wouldn't have been smart,'' says Hillman, who later played for the University of Maine. ''I knew the coach from Groton was kind enough to give me a couple of days of rest. Think about that. What a class act. I'd like to think another coach would do that today, but probably not.''
Monaco says, ''My whole high school career, I wanted to win that thing. I looked forward to that all four years. It was a big game, but I suppose it was the right thing to do. I think we should have beat 'em, but it was Hillman that killed us.
''It would have been a sweet memory instead of sitting around crying all night. Our big party was canceled. Fahey said he thought they would have done it for us. At the time, I felt we were throwing the championship away. There was a lot of controversy about it. Hey, we played them at their best. It's nice to win, but the best team won that night. I think maybe that was a better thing to do. It was a real courageous thing for him to do because I know he wanted to win badly, too.''
Fahey coached 12 seasons at Groton, compiling a record of 174-85. He retired from teaching in 1994 and lives in Fitchburg. Like Phil Woolpert, who coached Bill Russell and K.C. Jones at the University of San Francisco, Fahey became a bus driver when his coaching days were over. In 1995, the Midland Wachusett League named its Division D Sportsmanship Award in honor of John P. Fahey.
Fahey downplays the decision. He remembers something about an agreement he had with the Lunenburg coach. No one else remembers any deal.
''Now, it might be unusual,'' Fahey says. ''I would hope it wouldn't be. I would think today upper administration would make the decision. You know the stuff that goes on, but there's still good things that you hear about.
''Everybody looks for an edge within decent boundaries, but the people I was associated with, they were morally very strong. It's what they taught us to play hard and be a man of your word. Still, it wasn't an easy decision for me.''
High school teachers and coaches rank with the most important people in America. They teach and lead us through days that stay with us forever. We didn't win the championship we coveted in 1970, but John Fahey was a true sportsman and helped make us better men.
