Chicago Tribune from Chicago, Illinois • 29

Section 3 (fhirap (Tribune Saturday, December 25, 1982 Anthony Carter's catchy statistics Michigan's Carter wins Tribune's Silver Football Vwi Rush Roc KQ. FU4 9. Ysds Avfl yw 1979 417 1946? 17413 20 IIW M4 1980 1068 51 gl 15.427 24 165 1.479 1 23 2 1981 1267 S052 15 408 17 183 1621 136 1982 9 64 38 765 1 2 302 1 7 265 4H 124 7 TotaH 34 216 156.3 017 591,649 79 631 6 C72 120 7 Anthony Carter canl be caugnt off Ihe fooiDa field, either By Roy Darner OS THE FOOTBALL Held, few can ktp up uh Michigan' Anthony Cr-Iff Bui in the balloting fur the Silver Football trophy, awarded annuity by The Tribune to urn bit lo nwu valuable player, some) did manage to stay ckx to (he Wolverine' ipeedattrr. Carter edged out Illinois quarterback Tony Easoa for the Silver Football, with one ballot making the difference. Carter bad 11 first place votes and 7 second place votes.

Eason fuikhed with 10 first and 7 seconds. A first place vote was worth two points and a second place vote was good for one. so Carter finuhed with 29 points to Eaton's 27. The panel of 24 voters consisted of the conference coaches, 10 league officials, Big 10 tommiMtufier Wayne Duke, Tribune sports editor George Langford and sports writers bill Jauas and Hoy Darner. Carter's victory over Eason in the balloting brought to mind the Wolverines' victory over Illinois Nov.

when the lilini were stopped just short of the goal line on their but play of the game. CARTER, A SENIOR frem Riviera Beach, has been a phenomenal per-former during his four years at Michigan. Although only feet ll-inches and 162 pounds, Carter was able to send waves of electricity through the luo.ouo fans in Michigan Stadium whenever he touched the ball. "He's the most dangerous receiver and most exciting player we've had," says coach Bo Schembechler. "He's really something.

Spectacular, explosive and dynamic are adjectives that cross my mind when 1 think of Anthony. There are a lot of great athletes In college football, but it's hard for me to imagine anyone who can match Anthony in terms of his ability to make the big play." Carter set an NCAA record by averaging 17. 4 yards every time he touched the ball, whether rushing, receiving or returning a kick. The old record of 15 6 yards was set by Theo Bell of Arizona. CARTER.

HO wears No. 1, also bolds Big 10 marks for receiving yardage (3,017, touchdown catches (37) and kickoff return yardage He also owns every Michi- Continued on page 2, col. 4 In the wake off the news 1 John Virginia sent reelin 1 nubur 1 W' fv V. Sampson's old foe sparks tiny Chaminade's upset iff i I 3'. i i Inside Skating on thin ice Northwestern's club hockey program must raise $5,000 by Jan.

4 or cease operation. Page 3. A fond farewell Carol McCue is retiring after more than 40 years with the Chicago District Golf Association. Page 2. Sooner sensation High-scoring Wayman Tisdale is turning on football-minded Ok-lahomans to basketball.

Page 3. From Chicago Tribune wtftt HONOLULU Virginia's visit to Hawaii turned into paradise lost. The Cavaliers' No. 1 ranking went aloha when Chaminade, with an enrollment of 900 450 males and three NCAA Division I opponents on its schedule, pulled perhaps the biggest upset in college basketball history. Doing what Georgetown and seven other teams couldn't, Chaminade, the school that sounds like it was named after a 1950s rock-n-roll band, beat Virginia 77-72 Thursday night.

And to add insult to injury, the Silverswords' hero was a Virginian. Tony Randolph, a 6-foot-8-inch native of Staunton, outdueled 7-4 Ralph Sampson, the two-time player of the year from Harrisonburg, Va. Randolph knew his opponent well. The two faced each other five times in their high school careers, but it took a game about 5,000 miles away from home for Randolph to finally emerge the victor. 4 t'VmwwnmJSO- -vi- "I GREW UP WITH Ralph Sampson," said Randolph, who led all scorers with 19 points, most on long jump shots.

"They were our ar-chrivals in high school. I was worried that he might have changed, but he didn't, except that he was a little more physical. In their previous meetings, Sampson and his Harrisonburg High School teammates defeated Randolph and his Robert E. Lee High School teammates. "I knew I couldn't handle him inside," said Randolph, sophomore.

"So I took him outside. He was letting me have that 19-foot jumper." "He was not intimidated at teammate Richard Haenisch said of Randolph. "He stayed with him like a The man who brought Randolph and his 19-foot jumpers to Chaminade, coach Merv Lopes, called Randolph the key to the "big-Continued on page 2, col. 4 4. SUM.

1 I I Lighting up a lonely Christmas IT WAS WELL AFTER the horses had been worked and put to bed when Rev. Zeke Leija finally found Walter Britton beside the racetrack kitchen. You couldn't miss him. The guy with the wool cap and the baggy corduroys bearing the dust of countless tracks. But that goes for almost everybody in the backstretch at Hawthorne.

Walter was the guy with the dog, the black and brown mongrel who does tricks like being sold for a dollar and then coming right back to Walter. "Anybody want to buy a dog?" Walter Britton sang through a thin morning rain. "Hey, how 'bout you? Only a dollar. A special price for the Rev." The little dog leaped to her hindquarters and begged to be bought. But Kev.

Zeke was not looking to buy a dog. He was tracking down the one person who might give meaning to his Christmas sermon. For a year now, this stocky young missionary had seen his racetrack congregations dwindle. No more than 10 or 12 now were coming to services In the bleak room reserved for public functions behind the stables. THE REV.

HAD BEEN worrying about this the other night driving along the muddy path between the barns when he could not believe his eyes. He stopped the car and gaped. There in the darkness, in one window above long, desolate barn, blinked a string of Christmas lights. And there was more. A plant grew in a yellow plastic vase.

A pink wreath was lit by a red bulb. And a tiny sprig of living evergreen bore four little ornaments and a fuzzy, inch-nigh Santa. For a year now, Rev. Zeke has been ministering in the backstretches of Chicago's racetracks to the loneliest vagabonds of sport. They spend whole lives scraping out acrid stables, walking horses in the dawn.

rub and feed and oversee horseflesh that is more valuable than their own. "They know that," Rev. Zeke said, "and it gets them down. His priority is to give them hope, to assure them that they are somebodies. "That God loves them and God wants them to live in abundance," Rev.

Zeke said. THEY MIGHT BE failed iockeys or lost souls who started hanging around the norses and never learned anything else. They drift from track to track, state to state, year after year until life's realities close in. Few know the basics of home and love. "Whenever we can, we tell them to get up and say, 'I am somebody.

I am extra. I am That there's more to life than being lonely. That if they're not happy here, there are other ways. That they can keep on trying," Rev. Zeke proclaimed.

The hot-walkers and grooms earn $20 to $30 a day, seven days a week, predawn to midafternoon with the thoroughbreds, morning to night at the harness tracks. For recreation, there are touts and pimps, hookers and "hits." The neat bungalows beyond the fence in Cicero belong to a hostile, foreign world. They live in tiny cubicles above the stables a bed and a cement floor, a couple of hooks on the concrete walls, an electrical outlet for the tiny black and white TVs that are their treasures and the hot plate that is illegal because no one is supposed to cook near a horse's haybed. Toilets and showers are around the corner. If the window and door both lock, they are snug.

REV. ZEKE HAD TO find this backstretcher who dared to light the night, who beamed hope among the rows of blank windows curtained by blankets and horse pads. "Aw, it's just a little thing," Walter Britton said, begging no attention. But no, he was told, this is a big thing, certainly to the children who can see something beyond their assigned cubes of temporary space. Walter Britton, a runaway from Arkansas 31 years ago, tugged at his wool cap and told the barking dog to shush.

He mentioned his girlfriend, Lola. She is so much younger, he said. So full of love and hope. She's the one who gets him up and feeds the horses and sloshes out the stalls when his head won't work. And she's the one who thought of his wife somewhere and his daughter somewhere else, of all he had lost in a misspent life, and went to Zayre's and spent her money on the lights and wreath and evergreen with the little bulbs.

"I couldn't believe it when she brought them over," he said. "I stood in the door and hugged her for 3'fe minutes. I mean, this was incredible. WALTER NOW HAD an entourage in his room above the stables. He added some tape to the slipping string of lights.

"What this does is turn it into a home, I guess," he said. "It makes it mine. It tells everyone that I'm the one who's here and that Lola loves me." He popped a beer, warming to the occasion. "It says that I have not, will not, shall not quit. That I cannot give up hope.

That I am going to survive." Walter went outside and leaned upon the railing above the muddy road. A dozen ugly wires screened his view of two more barns, then the track, then the black, looming windowed emptiness of the grandstand. "You know, surviving is beautiful," he mused, pulling at his beer. He looked around and laughed. "Don't know what else to say." Another backstretcher had the right words, though.

Walter still was on the railing when a fellow came along the road. He looked up and Walter nodded. The man smiled. "Merry Christmas," he called. Mm, "Of i 4 i 1 rariMfiiil fir AP Laserphoto Unlike their high school battles in Virginia, this time Tony Randolph of Chaminade got the upper hand on Ralph Sampson.

UPI Telepholo Chaminade forward Richard Haenisch whoops it up on a hoop after his team's 77-72 victory Thursday night over No. 1 -ranked Virginia in Honolulu. Defensive back can't stop this aerial circus From Chicaoo Tribune wires WASHINGTON According to Pan Am, "The world is going our way." In the case of Maryland defensive back Bob Gunderman, the ad slogan was right. Gunderman wound up in Caracas on his way to the Aloha Bowl in Honolulu. "Things like this happen, particularly this time of year," said a Pan Am spokesman.

Especially since the one-stop check-in works so well. Gunderman broke his finger Monday and missed the team's charter to Hono lulu. He was then given a Washington-New York-Los Angeles-Honolulu ticket. IN NEW YORK, it seems, he got off and asked the stewardess where to go. "Gate 12," she said.

He went, got on the plane without a passport check and a couple of hours later noticed that everybody was speaking "Venezuelan." Penniless, without a passport, watched by the police, Gunderman was given $5 by a good Samaritan. He bought two soft drinks and a sandwich remembering "I knew not to drink the water, or is that Mexico?" and was put on a plane for Los Angeles after 10 hours. IN LOS ANGELES, they figured his story was so strange that he had to be a drug courier, and he had to show his bowl tickets to get into the country. When he got to the training table, he got a standing ovation rare for a second-stringer tor what is now known as "Gunderman's travels." Jim Arey, Pan Am's spokesman in New York, said that "if you board in Washington destined for an international point, everything is done there; all docu ments are checked" and you aren't bothered if you have to change planes. Arey said the gate agent in New York erred when he checked tickets, but "really, part of the burden these days.

on the passenger to make sure he's on the right airplane." For Arey, the biggest mystery was the original route. "Why on earth did he go to New York to go to Honolulu?" he asked. "There are direct flights from Washington." The Maryland campus in College Park is about 10 miles outside of Washington..