A name to avoid...

                Sometimes a descriptive short phrase can be magical. It can roll off the tongue and affix itself to people and events forever and anon.

          Phrases such as ‘wrong way.’

          You think of Cal’s Roy ‘Wrong Way’ Riegels, who recovered a fumble in the 1929 Rose Bowl game against Georgia Tech and returned it the wrong way. Riegels went 69 yards before he was caught and spun around by a teammate, but he was tackled at the Tech 3-yard line. At least nobody died, except maybe a few distraught bookies, when Riegels screwed up. Wanna win a bet? The name of the teammate who finally caught and turned Riegels around was Benny Lom.

          Riegels thought Lom was screaming in order to urge Riegels to greater speed as Lom chased Riegals down.

          Then there was Douglas Corrigan. A pilot, Corrigan wanted to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean in 1938. He had worked on Charles Lindbergh’s Spirit of St. Louis craft that was the first to solo the big pond and Corrigan made some modifications to his own plane to try the trick himself. He filed a flight plan for a hop from New York to Ireland, but the plan was disallowed. So Corrigan changed his intended destination to somewhere else and flew across the Atlantic anyway, later claiming he’d gotten lost and gone the wrong way.

          You’ve heard of ‘Wrong Way’ Corrigan, right?

          Remember Jim Marshall? A defensive lineman for the Minnesota Vikings, Marshall picked up a fumble by the 49ers’ Billy Kilmer and raced about 64 yards for a score during an NFL game in 1964. The score turned out to be a safety for the San Francisco team because Marshall had run the wrong way. Whoever number 77 was for the 49ers that day, he was the first to shake Marshall’s hand after Marshall spiked the ball in the end zone. You can see it on You Tube. Ol’ number 77 did not wish to be left behind in the congratulatory rush.

          Marshall played many years in the NFL and was a star on some great defensive teams with the Vikings. So skilled was he that nobody called him Jim ‘Wrong Way’ Marshall. But they could have.

          Of course, we all make mistakes. Not long ago I selected the wrong path at the Chickamauga National Military Park and turned a 400-yard stroll into a five-hour marathon. It was an easy mistake to make, so I made it.

          And so it goes for all of us. Whatever the endeavor, you’re out there doing the best you can and you goof. Hopefully, this does not happen in front of a huge crowd in Pasadena, California but someone is going to notice. A friend or, perhaps, a co-worker points out your gaffe and you blurt out, “Why didn’t you stop me?”

          Or, as I muttered during my epic march around the Chickamauga battlefield last spring, “Where is Benny Lom when I really need him?”

          Don’t take this the wrong way, but thanks for reading.