The kid with the quick hands

I mentioned earlier today that I wanted to write about some different subjects. Unfortunately, what follows wouldn't have been my first choice.

Bob Drexler died yesterday. Bob was Xavier Class of '83, two years younger than me, a classmate and great friend of my brother Pat. Bob was part of a huge family; I think there were at least a dozen Drexler kids and he fell somewhere in the middle of the pack. It seemed like there was a matching Drexler for nearly any kid who attended XHS from about 1975 to around 1990 or so. His older sister Kathy was in my class; his younger sister Margaret was in my brother Paul's class. The Drexlers had certain things in common -- most of the Drexler boys were short, excellent athletes and champion drinkers when they reached maturity, and all the Drexler girls were saintly in comparison.

The first time I got to know Bob was when he was the secret weapon on the St. Joe's basketball team. This would have been about 1976, and Bob was a 6th grader who was talented enough to play with the 8th grade team. I went to St. Mary's and St. Joe's was our arch rival. The two parishes and schools are only about two blocks apart from one another in Appleton, both a block or so from College Avenue, the main drag. Historically, St. Joe's was the German parish in town and St. Mary's was the Irish parish, but by then the distinctions didn't mean very much. My cousins went to St. Joe's and we went to St. Mary's and you got to know most of the St. Joe's kids eventually, because you played with them in the parks and against them in Little League or in the neighborhood pickup games. Bob was a little guy but was an excellent basketball player, because he was exceptionally quick and could steal the ball from your point guard and then sprint down the court for a layup before you realized what had happened.

Our eighth grade coach was Mr. Balliet, whom I wrote about here. As we prepared for the annual holiday game against St. Joe's, much of our strategy concerned how we would deal with Bob Drexler. Mr. B had to caution our guards about Bob and we ran plays to keep the ball away from him. I can still hear Mr. B's voice -- "you have to watch out for that Drexler kid -- he has quick hands!" The game, as usual, was a war and St. Joe's came out on top at the end, in large part because Bob kept stealing the ball. We ended up with a better record in the league that year, but the loss to St. Joe's really hurt.

As always happened, the St. Joe's kids and the St. Mary's kids ended up going to school together at Xavier and all the bitter rivalries would fade. My brothers and I were friends with Bob and some of his brothers, especially his younger brother Paul, who was affectionately known as the Red Scourge for his less than subtle approach with the ladies. We spent a lot of time sharing laughs and beer in the Appleton bars once we got older and Bob and my brother Pat were very close.

As my life began to unfold, I saw less of the Drexlers. They went through good times and sad ones as well -- Kathy, my classmate, ended up being a very young widow, and Bob ended up marrying a gal from Minneapolis named Debbie. Debbie's kid brother is Jonathan Yuhas, the local weather guy, and I remember being amused at seeing Jonathan introducing Bob and his family on television during the State Fair a few years back. Bob had a successful career in logistics and he and Debbie ended up in Delray Beach, Florida, where Bob worked for a large office supply retailer. Yesterday, Debbie and their daughter came back from church and found Bob in their home, unresponsive, either from an asthma attack or a heart attack; we're not sure which. Bob had yet to reach his 50th birthday.

As I write today, we're a long way from Christmas, 1976. I've lost a number of my classmates over the years but for some reason, Bob's death brings me up short in a way that's tough to pin down. Bob was a great guy -- funny, warm, clever and generous. He and his brothers and sisters were an important part of our lives growing up and it never seemed like Bob would leave so soon. It's a reminder that we need to enjoy each day, because tomorrow is not promised. If you're inclined, I'd appreciate it if you'd say a prayer for Debbie and their children. I know I will.