|
|
|
History has a habit of forgetting about those whose names have long been chiseled on gravestones. The past great shooters, administrators, and promoters of our game are but a dim memory to all but a few. Some of the people we owe the most seldom, if ever, pulled a trigger. They say Elmer Shaner, who ran the old Interstate Trapshooting Association for more than twenty years, never shot a clay target in his life. Old Billy Moore, editor of The Sportsman Review for over fifty years never shot (Sportsman Review is now Trap & Field).
Betty Ann Foxworthy, retired editor and publisher of Trap & Field shot
only on occasions during her early years with the magazine. The late Jimmy
Robinson, trap and skeet editor of Sports Afield for over forty-five years,
could hit targets if he wanted to, but he seldom did. He preferred shooting
ducks, telling stories, and chewing tobacco. There
was and can only be one Jimmy
Robinson. He spent his life writing about people
whose accomplishments came nowhere near his own. At an age when most can’t
remember what they had for breakfast, he could recite scores, names, dates,
and places of events that happened some sixty years past, or tell you who got
four hits in the Yankee-Red Sox game last Tuesday at Fenway. His computer-like
mind stored every little thing and if one turned on the switch, history just
rolled from his mouth, which was often tobacco stained.
On
April 11, 1925, he became ATA life member #910. A year later he wrote his
first article for Sports Afield about a hunt with Annie Oakley in 1924. As the
assistant manager and statistician for the ATA, he started to write
trapshooting columns for Grantland Rice, the famous sports columnist who
picked All-American football teams for Colliers Magazine. Rice asked Jimmy to
pick an All-American Trapshooting Team for his syndicated column. Jimmy picked
one and continued to do so for the next 37 years (from 1964 to date a
committee selects the teams). In
earlier years one woman, one junior, and one professional (Industry Rep) were
selected along with about ten men. At the suggestion of his long time friend,
author Ernest Hemingway, Jimmy started selecting a junior team in 1949, along
with an industry and first and second women’s squad. He added a sub-junior
team in 1960, and made Britt Robinson of Texas captain. Jimmy knew talent.
Twenty eight years later Britt broke 100 from 27 yards to win the 1988 Grand
American Handicap. He announced a veteran team in 1962 consisting of “old
timers” 70 years and older who were still active in the sport. The veteran
team as we know it today came into being 1968, the senior vet team a few years
later. Jimmy
Robinson was a lovable character but always had a way of putting you in your
place. When asked by shooters why they weren’t picked on the All-American
team his answer was always the same: “You didn't shoot good enough, that’s
why.” On
the other hand, if one shot well and happened to run across Jimmy there was
always the natural desire to brag a little. Between tobacco spits and one
finger typing he mostly would say, “You should shoot well, you’re shooting
all the time.” I
don’t believe I’ll ever forget opening envelope addressed to me some 50
years a from the There
are countless Jimmy Robinson stories in circulation. It was a known fact hated
to drive a car. He owned them but didn’t like to drive and would do his best
get the other fellow behind the wheel. Right
after the second world war, Jimmy and baseball great Ted Williams were duck
hunting in Stuttgart, Arkansas. They decided to drive Ted’s car to Florida
for some Tarpon fishing before spring training started. Jimmy promised to do
half the driving. Before duck camp broke up Robinson started passing word
around that he was colorblind. When the trip to Florida started, Jimmy was
behind wheel. At the first red light, he sailed right through it, never
touching the brake. That was enough for Williams. He ordered Jimmy stop and
drove the whole distance himself. For the next two days the famous colorblind
writer sat on the passenger side telling stories and spitting tobacco juice
into an empty tuna fish can. Ted Smith, a now-retired Westen-Winchester rep, spent his first few months the job living with Jimmy and his wife Clara in Minneapolis. Ted and Jimmy used to duck hunt together. He told this story often: “Jimmy and I started out for the marshes about 3 a.m. one morning with Jimmy driving. After about 5 minutes on the road I looked over at him and his head had dropped and his eyes appeared closed. I said, ‘Jimmy are you sleeping?’ ‘No only dozing,’ came the reply. I made him stop right away and took over behind the wheel. “Years later the old writer told me he often pulled the same trick. His right eye was closed but his left open. This little maneuver always brought about a driver change which also enabled Jimmy to get an extra hour of sleep.” You didn’t bet or play cards with Jimmy. His remarkable memory never forgot what cards had been played and what remained in the deck. Gin rummy was his game and if he was ever beaten no one can remember who did it. He played against some pretty important people of his time, like Clark Gable, Ernest Hemingway, Gary Cooper, Will Rogers and Babe Ruth.
The great Wisconsin skeet shooter Ed
Scherer used to tell this story. “One night on the
road to the 1960 World Skeet Shoot in Virginia Beach, Va., he and I decided to
play gin for a half a cent a point. He beat me in 27 of 28 games and if he
hadn’t let me off the hook I would have lost $380. I had a stick shift Ford
station wagon at the time. After three unsuccessful starts in high gear the
crankshaft was about to pop. You guessed it, he was a passenger for the entire
trip, spitting tobacco juice out the right front window that was open most of
the time.”
Jimmy loved to set you up for a bet, too. The first World’s Skeet Shoot was
held in Cleveland in 1935. A bus took shooters from the hotel to the gun club
and back at the conclusion of events. Every morning they drove by a large
brickyard. Jimmy always sat next to Ollie Mitchell of Massachusetts.
Mitchell was a skeet All-American at the time. Every morning as they
drove by the brickyard Jimmy
would say, “I wonder how many bricks
are
piled up there.” A $20 bet was made and each wrote his number on a piece of
paper.
That
afternoon, Jimmy made the bus driver
stop
at the brickyard and he and Ollie looked up the foreman. He knew exactly how
many bricks were
there
and it was within ten of the
number
Jimmy had written down. Ollie Mitchell couldn’t believe it but reluctantly
handed
over his twenty bucks. Jimmy gave it back to him the next day along with the
reason he had
won
the bet. The day before the wager
drive
him to the brickyard and the owner had told him how many were there.
Every summer Jimmy released a duck survey which he took from western Canada.
Over 400 newspapers were informed as to what kind of season American
water-fowlers could expect in the fall.
He
also ran a duck club in Manitoba for almost fifty years. Here he
entertained movie stars and millionaires, and just plain common folks, too. Jimmy
Robinson was a primary force in establishing the Trapshooting Hall of Fame and
Museum at Vandalia. His early records and photos of past champions were
instrumental in the selection of shooters who dominated the early years of
trapshooting in America. In appreciation of his untiring efforts and lifetime
promotion of our sport, he was inducted into the Hall of Fame on August 24, 1971. Perhaps
Trap & Field’s Betty Ann Foxworthy said it best in a 1979 booklet on
All-American teams she and Jimmy authored, “Jimmy Robinson is in three
national halls of fame for trapshooting, skeet shooting, and fishing. He is
also in the Minnesota All Sports Hall of Fame, along with Bronko Nagurski,
Harmon Killebrew and Bud Wilkerson. And if there were halls of fame
for memory, duck hunting, raising money for wild fowl conservation and
longevity as a writer Jimmy would be in those too.” Jimmy
died of heart and kidney failure on June 18, 1986, exactly 15 years to the day
I’m writing these lines. He was 89 years old. Jimmy Robinson was the only
man one will ever meet who could smoke a pipe, spit on the floor, wink at you
with a nervous eye, twitch and remember your name and the score you broke to
win some fifty years ago.
If you are interested in trapshooting history, try to stop by the National Trapshooting Hall of Fame and Museum located at the ATA headquarters in Vandalia. The museum houses one of the largest collections of trapshooting memorabilia in the world and is open to the public free of charge Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Should you have a trapshooting artifact that you would like information about, contact me at the Trapshooting Hall of Fame and Museum, 601 National Rd., Vandalia, OH 45377. The museum is always looking for select items to add to our collection of shooting memorabilia. Visit us on our web site at www.traphof.org |