I had a bird’s-eye view of the 1958 Vols-Chattanooga slobber-knocker | Sam Venable

Any time the football Vols host Chattanooga’s Mocs - as will occur six days hence - it is incumbent upon doddering journalists to retell the saga of Tennessee’s humiliating loss in 1958 and the 90-minute riot that ensued.

As a 77-year-old typist who is not only a native Knoxvillian but also an eyewitness, it just dawned on me that I’ve made a huge, decades-long career blunder. I’ve never written my version, a sin that may well cost my membership in the Society of Professional Journalists.

No sense rehashing the details. Any dolt with a Smartphone can fetch the estimated 52,873 detailed accounts from newspaper and TV archives. Suffice it to say that perennial patsy ’Nooga manhandled the Vols 14-6. In an off/on series dating to the late-1800s, this remains UT’s only home loss and just the second of all time (with a 5-0 “away” game in 1905).

Chattanooga partisans flooded the field and attacked the goal posts. Vol fans took umbrage. Fights broke out. Cops intervened with billysticks. Later, firehoses and tear gas were deployed. Paddy wagons filled. Among those arrested was a Hamilton County public official.

I was 11 years old, enjoying the opulence of four or five dollars every home game selling hot dogs and gorging on free leftovers when I turned in my gear and got paid.

Stadium security was light-years removed from today. My father, who carried the downs marker at every game, always arranged for me to sit on the Vols’ bench at mid-fourth quarter, then leave with him when time expired.

Normally, this was no big deal. But as the final minutes ticked off that day, it became apparent trouble was brewing. Late in the action, the chain gang ran past me. Big Sam slowed long enough to bark, in no uncertain terms, “You find me the second this game’s over!”

Yes, sir. Even as a kid, I could sense the tension in his voice.

At the final gun, I ran toward him and other officials, a multi-man cluster of stripes. They packed me in the middle. With Big Sam leading this flying wedge, we plowed through the melee, finally reaching the Alumni Memorial Building. Dad hastily unlocked the door, everybody poured in, then he relocked. Whew!

All the men hit the showers. I went to a third-floor window. Gym manager George Peters (Dad always called him “Big Team”) was there. He and I stared in awe, to the accompaniment of his blow-by-blow commentary. We had to shut the window when tear gas billowed up but we continued to gawk.

Showered and dressed, my father soon approached. He asked, “What’s it like down there, Big Team?”

“Sam,” Mr. Peters cackled, “this is the best riot I’ve ever seen!”

Same here.

“Little Sam’s” column appears every Sunday. Contact him at sam.venable@outlook.com.

This article originally appeared on Knoxville News Sentinel: I had a bird’s-eye view of the 1958 Vols-Chattanooga slobber-knocker | Sam Venable