Over the years, Jean has made the same remark many times. “Aren’t we lucky we have made so many friends and had so many good times through the involvement we’ve had with sports?”
Each time, I shake my head in agreement. Sports have been a constant in my life since I was a youngster, and thankfully, those friends and memories have continued on.
During a recent luncheon covering a sports-related matter, I received news that caused pause and reflection. Longtime sportsman, coach, and friend Harry Binger passed on to a grander locker room at age 87. I had sports memories before Harry entered my life, but I still recall the circumstances and impression those early meetings had upon me.
As an elementary schooler, my cousin, Don Lowery, was a standout QB at Danville High School. Don’s father was killed in the Battle of the Bulge, and he would often come to our South Williamsport home to talk football with my dad. During one of those visits, Don brought along Harry, an accomplished running back from South Williamsport, who became a workout partner of his.
I knew Don was good, and I had watched from the stands as Harry starred at South Williamsport. The presence of two high school stars in my own house made those visits very special for me. Little did I know that as time went on, Harry and I would have plenty of time to interact.
Harry was a skilled, no-nonsense athlete. He was a running back with speed and power. His leg produced booming punts, and he possessed the unique ability to drop-kick the football, a skill unheard of today. Like his friend Don, he went on to play Division II football, taking his talents to Gettysburg.
Although football and baseball were his favorite sports, it was basketball that put our lives on a collision course. As a high school sophomore, Harry joined Bill Byham’s coaching staff at South. He was a young, fiery coach and passionately believed in the power of sport to develop the minds, bodies, and hearts of the young athletes under his watch.
As the years moved on, he became the head basketball coach at Montoursville and led his teams to some outstanding championship seasons. Frank Sinatra was known for his signature song My Way and Harry’s philosophy subscribed to that same theory. Inquiring parents lamenting their son’s lack of playing time often did not receive a sugar-coated response from a Binger meeting.
As he developed his coaching career, Binger closely followed Boby Knight’s Indiana Hoosiers. He studied Knight’s philosophy, which included several trips to Knight’s team practices and coaching clinics. That relationship provided a lasting sports memory.
Answering the telephone one November evening, Harry provided the ultimate sports dessert to a Thanksgiving feast. His call extended an invitation to join him at NYC’s Madison Square Garden for a college basketball doubleheader that included Indiana. Our traveling party included high school coach Larry Manikowski and his son JJ, who would go on to become a 1,000-point scorer at South Williamsport.
Entering the famed arena, Binger picked up the tickets Coach Knight had provided, and we followed along like puppy dogs as we descended closer to the playing court. To my amazement, we were seated at floor level, two rows behind the Indiana team bench, close enough to take in both the visual and audio emanating from the team’s sideline.
Following his retirement as Montoursville’s head coach, Binger returned to his alma mater to take the South hoop job during a transitional period. Ironically, as the school’s ninth-grade coach, the athlete who once visited our house now became my boss. While we shared a passion for sports, our stars didn’t always align.
One such instance occurred during my junior high team’s game against Loyalsock, a rival that Binger’s teams always had. Despite having a good team, Loyalsock was holding the upper hand at halftime, leading by double digits. Reversing our pre-game strategy, I switched to a second-half zone defense, hoping to slow down the Lancers. Thankfully, the plan worked, and we won the game with a second-half comeback.
The team was excited as we headed for the locker room. There awaiting us was Coach Binger, who, with a stern look, admonished me, stating, “Don’t ever do that again; we only play man-to-man!” It may have been the only time we had a harsh disagreement, other than our differing views on the New York Yankees.
In his later years, we shared conversations about coaching, grandkids, writing, and our mutual enjoyment of Bucknell basketball. Through it all was the constant; you always knew where Harry stood.
Others shared Harry’s passion for fishing, hunting, or talking about it. His favorite place was the family farm in Potter County, where seven generations lived, worked, and played. He loved every acre of the place.
You’re right, Jean. We have made so many good friends through sports. Thankfully, Harry Binger was one of them.
