BUTLERVILLE, Ind -- One of the most storied tales of Hoosier Hysteria folklore, and one of my personal favorites, took place during sectional week way back during the 1922-23 season. Think today's controversies make news? If the Internet would've been around back then, you can best bet your last Hoosier nickel that the Butlerville Squirrel Stunt would've been burning up the message boards...
Butlerville Squirrel Stunt 1923
Butlerville High School's Raymond "Fats" Rees was as big as Butlerville was small. Standing 6-4 and weighing 240 pounds, this center was truly a big man for that day and age. After reading an account of a similar story in a Michigan paper and speaking to his coach, Herb Whitcomb, the team began practicing the 'play.'
These Bulldogs also sported a 5 foot 110 point forward named Merlin Swarthout. This rather odd couple made up the components for what turned out to be a game winning and very controversial strategy.
Fats Rees would station himself near the front of the rim as the rest of the squad worked the ball around the outside. Little man Swarthout would then make a bee line for a crouching Rees and scramble up his back, ending up on his shoulders. Another Butlerville Bulldog would then throw the lob pass to the towering duo. Swarthout would catch the pas and score easily from his lofty position.
Of note was the fact that the goal was always scored on a bank shot as Coach Whitcomb thought a dunk 'unfair.'
The first time the play was used was in a regular season tilt against Jennings County rival, Scipio. The played worked to perfection and the Scipio contingent, certain that the play was legal, never argued the point.
However, the real news came when the Bulldogs used it a second time - in the Seymour Sectional vs. the Hayden Haymakers. They wasted little time as they unveiled their secret in the first half. The Haymakers were so upset and argued so fervently that they let the rest of the game slip away, losing 36-16.
The very next day Butlerville found themselves down 14-15 in the waning moments of their game against heavily favored Vernon. Rees and Swarthout unleashed the play in the closing seconds. The squirrel stunt ended Vernon's season 16-15.
Sectional officials were aware of the play since the Hayden win. They had hurriedly called IHSAA commissioner Arthur Trester in Indianapolis to inquire about the play's legality. However, since nothing in the rule book addressed such things specifically, the play was allowed to stand.
Butlerville was pretty much outgunned in the sectional final against mighty Seymour. The Bulldogs never even attempted to use their trick play. ..And that was the last of the Squirrel Stunt. During the off season, the IHSAA changed the rules to disallow "player assisted" field goals.
Word at that time was that the Squirrel Stunt brought newspaper accounts from as far away as San Francisco. Both Rees and Coach Whitcomb retired to farms in Jennings County. Swarthout would move out to Oklahoma. And the rest, as they say, is history.
BIRDSEYE, Ind. — Stories or folklore about the unusual and odd help to make our great game what it is today. With this in mind, I set about looking to turn over the details of a tale that has long been told. The lantern game at Birdseye High School…
Photo I was able to attain of inside of gym that I believe this game took place in. This photo was taken at Birdseye homecoming late in 1940’s. The ‘gym’ was called Stevens Station and/or Stevens Junction. It served as gym for Bristow High as well for a time and a roller skating rink among other things. Structure is no longer there.
When I first began trying to research this story, I was operating without much guidance. I’d heard rumors and fragments of the story, but getting someone to name specifics would prove difficult to say the least.
I spoke with Birdseye Yellow Jackets that played in the 1950’s, and 60’s. None could point to a game they were involved in during their era. However, I was able to piece together enough details that I’m convinced the story is real. Most likely taking place in the 1930’s.
So as many legends are passed along as oral history, I, too, became familiar with this rich story in much the same manner.
Here’s what I’ve been able to determine by compiling and comparing the various accounts. As you might imagine, newspaper reports of regular season Birdseye basketball games during the depression age were pretty much nonexistent.
Sometime during the decade of the 1930’s, the Birdseye Yellow Jackets played host to the Marengo Cavemen. Birdseye is now a part of Forest Park, and Marengo kids now attend Crawford County. The two communities are separated by about 25 miles on old Hwy 64 in Southern Indiana.
To say that these two schools were basketball rivals would be an understatement. While both had other schools and communities that might be considered more despised, there was little love shared between Yellow Jackets and Cavemen.
As far as basketball prowess goes, neither was ever considered a world beater. However, Marengo owned a sizeable advantage in this particular rivalry. Birdseye never did capture a Sectional, but Marengo was able to take titles in 1947 and 1957.
As this particular late February contest approached, Birdseye was again mired in a less than stellar campaign. Marengo on the other hand came to town with a winning docket and every reason to feel confident of capturing the bragging rights of the hollow for the coming year. The Cavemen and their fans also enjoyed an unseasonably warm day for their road trip.
However, as the game went on, the locals were hanging tough. According to accounts passed down through the ages, homestanding Birdseye led at the half – much to the chagrin of the favored visitors.
This upset in the making must have not set well with the basketball gods, because as the third quarter clicked along, the warm evening gave way to a building storm outside.
Lightning boomed and water poured on the old gym roof. As the fourth quarter began with the upstarts still ahead on the scoreboard, the power went out. Marengo called for a forfeit on the part of Birdseye since they couldn’t provide a lit gym to finish he game.
Yellow Jacket backers weren’t about to let a rare win against Marengo slip through their grasp on account of an act of nature. A quick mid-court meeting of Birdseye town leaders, lit only by occasional lightening flashes, derived a solution. The men of the town were sent to their homes to retrieve their kerosene lanterns.
They returned within minutes and took up places precariously sitting along the rafter that ran the length of the gym ceiling.
The concept of playing in such dim light may seem difficult to fathom, but it must be remembered that the electric lights of the day were not much brighter than the primitive lanterns used that evening.
The remainder of the game was played under the light of kerosene lamps with the locals hanging on (in more ways than one) for a narrow, if hard earned win over Marengo. The score and the names of the players are long lost to history, but the Birdseye Lantern game will forever be a part of the Indiana high school basketball lore.