Alvin Attles and Hersheypark Arena

Posted on February 6, 2023 by Steinmetz

The best thing about Hershey, PA isn’t the Hershey chocolate factory or even the fact you can actually smell chocolate when you’re in the town. Nah, the best thing about Hershey is Hersheypark Arena, and notice I didn’t say the amusement park.

Hersheypark arena was the home to some of the greatest high school games in Pennsylvania basketball history, and I was lucky enough to see some of them. Sure, it was also the site of Wilt Chamberlain’s 100-point game in the NBA, but give me Reading High beating Harrisburg 30-27 in the District III title game in 1976 or Reading High beating Steelton there 65-63 in triple-overtime in 1977 any day of the week.

Those two eras of basketball came together for me thanks to Alvin Attles, the long-time Warriors executive and championship coach.

High school games at Hersheypark in the 1970s were incredible spectacles. I’m talking high school boys double-headers where 8,000-9000 would be there. You’d have the Reading’s, the York’s, the Steelton’s, the Harrisburg’s, the Hershey’s, the Chambersburg’s — some of the state’s biggest schools — and they’d bring thousands.

I used to go to Reading High games with my buddies Chris and Kevin Smith, though they weren’t brothers. As soon as Mr. Smith would park the car at the arena parking lot, Chris, Kevin and I took off running toward the front gates. It was all general admission and first-come, first-seated, so the three of us took great pride in counting how many people we passed on the way in.

We always got to games early, and one of the reasons why was that inside the arena was a small arcade — with pinball machines, some shooting gallery games, maybe one of those contraptions that tries to grab a stuffed animal with a claw. But the arcade was kind of small and tucked away. An Anomaly, really. An arcade inside a sports arena.

Still, I had forgotten all about the arcade inside Hersheypark Arena — until about 15 years ago. I was talking to Attles, who was a teammate of Chamberlain’s on that 1962 Philadelphia Warriors team. Attles was Chamberlain’s teammate on that squad and on that night.

I was asking Alvin about that day, and that game, back in March 1962. Alvin told me that he and Wilt had driven to the game together, from Philly or New York, and that they’d gotten to the arena early. They had a couple of hours to kill.

“And one thing I remember,” Alvin said. “was Wilt shooting a gun, at this arcade, like a little shooting gallery. They had pinball machines … it was a game room. And I just remember Wilt, all 7-foot-2 of him, shooting this little rifle and playing pinball before that game.”

That’s when I remembered the arcade inside Hersheypark Arena, and that I’d been inside that arcade, too. So, I thought … Wilt Chamberlain spent a couple of hours in that Hersheypark arcade before a game that would end up being legendary. Me, too. Because I played pinball there before games that were as epic to me as that 100-point game.

Hershey had a video game room. Actually, check that. It was an arcade, with pinball machines, a shooting gallery, etc.

When I was a kid double-headers at Hershey — Triple-A high school games that brought thousands of fans. I’m talking 8,000, 9-000 packed. I’d go with Chris and KEvin Smith. We’d park the car and run as fast as we could toward the entrance.

It was first-come, first-seated so we always kept track of about how many people we passed by running on the way in — thus getting better seats than them. Hershey Park also had a video-game roo, arcade, etc.

If we got to a game early enough, we’d go in and blow a couple of quarters at the arcade. I had forgotten all about that arcade until about 10 or 15 years ago, when I was talking to Alvin Attles, a basketball legend. Alvin was teammate of Wilt Chamberlain back in the day before becoming an NBA winning head coach and successful executive

Alvin was Chamberlain’s teammate

Posted in Warriors | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Alvin Attles and Hersheypark Arena

Bobby Heebner

Posted on February 3, 2023 by Steinmetz

There may be a few old-timers from Reading/Berks who might not agree with me, but the 1970s were great years for basketball officiating in the area. We had Tom Kranis and George Zeppos (known as “The Greeks”), Mike Schorn, Tim Braun, Jack Slusser, my dad, John Carl, Barry Sherman, Ed Tobias, etc. Among them was Bobby Heebner.

Mr. Heebner and my dad were frequent officiating partners during the District 3 playoffs and Inter-district playoffs. They’d take refs from Berks County to referee in Harrisburg or Scranton … They’d send York officials to Reading and the Philly suburbs … Harrisburg refs did Lancaster games, and so on.

My dad would often carpool with Mr. Heebner for out-of-area games, and most of the time I was in the backseat, tagging along to a game. Mr. Heebner was strong, really tough, and quiet. He was known as a guy you didn’t want to mess with. Mr. Heebner was a good partner to have … most of the time.

There’s a rule among officials that after a game is over, you depart the court together. No exceptions. You walk onto the court as a team — you and your partner — and you left the court as a team. It didn’t matter how you departed. You could run, walk, scamper, strut, whatever. Just don’t leave without the other.

My dad and Mr. Heebner had a lot of big high school games over the years and there was a game I remember involving Harrisburg or Chambersburg, maybe Steelton, I can’t all the way remember. But it was packed house at Shippensburg, and it was a tight game and the crowd was getting into it. Of course, there’s a call at the end, leaving half the gym angry and pissed off.

As the game is coming to a close, more and more disgruntled fans are gathering nearer to the court. Emotions were running, high, but not Mr. Heebner’s. As the final buzzer sounds, pops finds himself at midcourt while Mr. Heebner is under one of the baskets — the far basket from the officials dressing room.

Some fans are kind-of storming the court and other fans are just plain hot because their team lost. My dad sees the situation and observes Mr. Heebner casually strolling through the mob gathering on the court. The throng was growing. Pops was ready to skedaddle. Not Mr. Heebner.

As Mr. Heebner approached my dad at halfcourt, my dad expected to break into a jog toward the locker room. Mr. Heebner didn’t break stride. “Bobby,” my dad said. “Let’s go! Let’s get out of here.”

“I will never run off of a basketball court,” Mr. Heebner replied. “Never.” Mr. Heebner left the court on his own terms. Like I said, I always remember him as being strong as an ox but understated and humble. I thought he was a damn good ref. He ran enough during a game, I guess. He wasn’t going to run after it.

There’s another story about Mr. Heebner that I’d only heard — never witnessed. It involves Cicero Lassiter, a Reading city league legend, who apparently challenged Mr. Heebner to a fight after a summer league game. When Mr. Heebner started taking Lassiter up on it, Lassiter said: “You’ve got that striped shirt on. If you didn’t have that shirt on, I’d take your head off.”

Mr. Heebner removed the whistle from around his neck and casually took off his refereeing jersey. “I don’t have my shirt on now,” Mr. Heebner said. The fight was cancelled.

Posted in Warriors | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Sam Marrella

Posted on February 1, 2023 by Steinmetz

You guys know and remember Sam Marrella. Even if you don’t, no biggie. It’s why I write these. Sam Marrella was the point guard on some really good Wilson teams in the early 1980s. I mean, of course Buddy Kemp, Doug Ertz and Rick Ferry were more important, but Sam played his role getting them the ball. (JK, Sam … last shot I’ll take)

Those three other guys all were frontcourt players so I didn’t really care about them. I didn’t have to guard them. And apparently, according to my dad, I never guarded Sam Marrella, either, though he was always my defensive assignment every time I played against him.

Played with and against Sam Marella most of junior high through our early 20s. Even though we didn’t go the same school, we got friendly because of our dads. Both were basketball officials. So anytime my dad found himself reffing with Mr. Marrella, chances were Sam was tagging along with his pops like I was with mine.

And I’ll use this sentence to tell you that Sam’s dad, Paul Marrella Sr., was a wonderful and upbeat man. Great demeanor. Great disposition. I can’t remember Mr. Marrella not smiling. He would have turned 85 recently. RIP.

So Sam and I played with each other and against each other in countless games — maybe one-on-one after our dad’s reffed a city league game, maybe at West Reading summer league, Winter rec leagues, high school, all-star games, you name it.

One night I was playing against Sam in a game at West Reading. I can’t remember if I was on Osan’s, the Hofbrau, Brewery Inn … I’m getting them all mixed up now. But I’m playing against Sam and my dad is watching because he had reffed an earlier game and was going to give me a ride home.

Sam’s team beat us. Sam’s teams always beat my teams. I think I know why now. After the game, I get into the car, with my dad at the steering wheel. Before he hits the gas, there’s a pause, a moment of silence if you will. And when I sense the delay, I look at my dad. He was already looking at me.

“Son,” my dad said with emphasis. “You gotta guard that guy, I mean, Jesus Christ, he does whatever the fuck he wants against you.” Pops looked away, stepped on the gas, and we didn’t talk the rest of the way home.

My personal record against Sam Marrella has got to be something like 2-27. But you know what? I’m actually giving myself two. I swear to god I can never remember beating Sam Marrella ever in my life at anything! Best I could do was play on a couple of all-star teams with him. That’s a humble brag, people.

After all these years, I love Sam. But I’m pretty sure he’s the reason I hate Wilson.

Posted in Warriors | Tagged , | 1 Comment