terrence jones

Terrence Jones' coach postgame: 'Hey, Nick, you need a ride?'

One thing that's amazed me in covering high school sports this season -- well, besides some terrific plays and unforgettable reactions -- is my dependable wireless card.

Technology being what it is, it's great, but hardly reliable. But wherever I've been during the past school year -- from the forests of Estacada to the parking lot at Westview High School to a Lake Oswego McDonald's -- I'm able to send game stories to The Oregonian's sports desk without fail.

That is, until last Friday night at Jefferson High School. And if it hadn't been for Democrats boys basketball coach Pat Strickland, you might never have read the account from the Jefferson-Grant game.

It's one minute to deadline when I wrapped up the story, about Grant guard/football star Kenneth Acker. All I need to do is hook up the wireless and send an e-mail. A minute later, I'm sitting in the gym at Jefferson, confused as to why I'm not getting a signal.

I give it a few minutes. Nothing. I walk out to the lobby. Nothing. I'm pretty sure muffled swear words are coming out as I walk outside and onto Jefferson's football field, trying to get a wireless signal.

Still nothing.

I thought about getting into my car to see what would happen. To do this, I'd have to scale a 10-foot cyclone fence holding an open laptop and work bag. If you've seen me, you know this wouldn't have been a pretty sight.

Suddenly I hear this: "Hey, Nick, you need a ride?"

It was Strickland, whose No. 1-ranked Democrats had beaten Grant 84-61 that evening. (On Tuesday, Jefferson beat Kentwood of Covington, Wash., 42-39, in a game televised on ESPN2.)

Me walking around the football field with an open laptop -- I'm not sure why he thought I needed a ride. I'm not precisely sure of my response, but I'm fairly certain it started with, "What I need is a darn wireless signal!"

But a ride would be nice, too. Maybe I'll get lucky and find a wireless signal there.

So I walked over to Strickland's car, and he had his son get in the backseat. He first apologized for the car, saying it was his parent's; Strickland explained that during Thanksgiving weekend, a drunk driver blowing an incredibly ridiculous number on a Breathalyzer T-boned him and wiped out his rig.

Frankly, the car was just fine. Besides, anyone who survives getting hit by someone drunk out of his mind can drive a scooter, for all I care. Better to be alive.

As Strickland drove to my car about four blocks away, he mentioned that Jefferson could have put on a better show for me. As if winning by 23 points was something you'd throw back in the river. But when you're the two-time state champion, you've got standards some of us might not comprehend.

Soon, we were at my car. I thanked him, and Strickland was off. Still no wireless, but I was able to drive two miles away to North Interstate Avenue and find wireless life.

If there were room in the Jefferson-Grant scoring summary, I would have given Strickland an assist. If I remember correctly, Strickland was pretty good with those during his playing days. Still is, in other ways.