I guess Poachy Marks is as good a place to start as any.
Thanks to him, my dad and I were up close for the upshot of Louisville Cardinal basketball’s most improbable post season run ever.
Poachy owned an eponymously named haberdashery between 4th and 5th on what was then known as Walnut Street. One time when I was in there, so was the brash fellow who was soon to become our burg’s most famous son, then still known as Cassius Clay.
Looking at himself in a new outfit, and without turning away from his image, with that combination of braggadocio and wink, he called out to Marks, “Tell me Poachy, ain’t I the prettiest?”
Anyway, Poachy Marks was connected in the local sports scene. He was known to make a wager or two, and whether he was on the other side of that equation remains a mystery. To me anyway. Because of those connections, Marks scored my dad and me fifth row midcourt seats for the upcoming national semis and final returning for the second year in a row to Freedom Hall, which venue was accelerating toward its status as the epicenter of college hoops.
(Note: The final four didn’t become The Final Four™ until sometime in the mid 70s.)
Little did we realize, ducats in hand, just a couple of weeks beforehand that our beloved U of L Cardinals would implausibly crash that party, joining The Big O, He Who Would Become The Logo, and heralded Pete Newell’s Golden Bears to fight it out for the national crown. Continue reading On the 9s: ’59 U of L Cards crash Last Weekend Party