Tom Morton

Tom was hands down the best athlete in Granada High School's Class of 1989.

He was a left-handed pitcher and a solid hitter on the baseball team. Basketball was his best sport. Although he was not gifted with a lot of size, he had speed, smarts and the knack for playing basketball. The sport he loved, however, was football.

As a junior he beat out the brother of an NFL quarterback. As a second-year starting quarterback during his senior year, he led our team to a Northern California state playoff against perennial power De La Salle High School.

The Matadors were wiped all over the field during that championship game, but it didn't diminish the leadership Morton displayed throughout the year.

I was not on the football team, but I saw every game from the stands. When I look back at those games I remember seeing Morton absolutely taking charge, barking orders and demanding results. And, he got them. He was a tremendous leader on the football field, helping topple schools with more tradition and probably talent than we had.

He had the talent to play college football, but he was too prideful. Recruiters thought he was too small to play the position in college and his offers were from small colleges. Rather than play and transfer to a bigger school, he surprised everybody by joining the Army.

I grew up on a street with three boys my same age. All of our parents adored Tom because he was just so polite and charming. When there were no parents around, we used to call him Eddie Haskell of Leave it to Beaver fame, because the difference in his demeanor around parents and classmates was, well, Eddie Haskellish.

Sometimes Tom's lust for the spotlight hurt him. He could disrupt a teacher as easily as he could a defense. And when he would be on the bench for a breather when he was playing basketball he used to put on a show for his friends in the stands. His antics were commonplace. My memory of basketball games was Tom dominating when he was in the game and on the bench.

One year we played in a Babe Ruth summer baseball league together. One game I played left field, he played center. The outfield fence at the field was portable. It was supported by PVC pipe that held up a plastic mesh.

During the game a player from the other team crushed a ball. I was tracking it toward the fence and preparing to find the fence with my free hand when I heard Tom start yelling "plenty of room -- keep going!"

I did, right through the fence.

I was on the ground, the fence all around me, the ball just a few feet away when Tom caught up to me and began quietly laughing at me. He spoke so only I could hear, making fun of my predicament. His intention was to get me to run right on through the fence, and he did it.

I didn't even explain to people that it was my trust in him that made me run through that fence. I bore all responsibility and took all the ribbing from our teammates. I didn't want him to have the satisfaction.

Have you ever had a friend who you would run through a wall for? I guess you could say Tom was that kind of friend to me. He had a similar impact on his football teammates, although the walls they broke down were figurative.

I don't really know where Tom is today or exactly what his is doing. I have heard that he has some walls in front of him that he needs to break through.

If he were to ever read this post, I would encourage him to give me a call. I'd love to return the favor.