In 1987, a guy playing both offense and defense for the Holy Cross football team garnered national attention for his alacrity on both sides of the ball. A story in Sports Illustrated helped whip up the oddest grass roots Heisman Trophy campaign in history. The throwback angle, combined with his playing for a smaller school with a fairly historic football program, created the idea of returning the Heisman to its stated intent - honoring the best college football player - rather than what it had become (and what it still is), a trophy for the best offensive skill position player on a nationally prominent, winning team.

He was helped by it being a slack year by Heisman standards. He finished third, beating out Lorenzo White from Michigan State and Craig "Ironhead" Heyward from Pitt. He narrowly lost the runner up spot to Syracuse's Don McPherson. Notre Dame's Tim Brown won the award going away that year, amassing over 1400 points, a good 800 more than McPherson. One does have to wonder what would have happened if Pitt and Syracuse were replaced on the list with, say, players from Washington and Florida. OK, he'd probably have only finished second, but still.

The Holy Cross player in question: Gordie Lockbaum.

I mention this today not because of the looming college football season, or because the Holy Cross head coach is Dan Allen, who led BU to its best football seasons ever and perhaps to its ultimate demise by leaving the cupboard bare for his successor.

Rather, Gordie Lockbaum, senior, gets mention because his son, Gordie Lockbaum, Junior, hit a home run to score the only run of the game to lead his Worcester, MA little league team to the Little League World Series.

While the story is notable in its own right, I mention it as it means that Gordie Lockbaum has a son old enough to play in this thing. I'm feeling old again.