The Front Row with MARK NELKE April 17, 2011

"Do you remember me?" the slender brunette asked the other night, as she stood next to her old high school volleyball coach, who was being inducted into the Idaho Athletic Hall of Fame.

"Uh ... er ... " I deftly replied.

Of course, it had been more than a quarter century since I had seen her play - seen her at all, in fact - and she had changed a bit. But haven't we all?

I would have figured it out eventually, of course. However, Irene Matlock, head coach of the Sandpoint High volleyball team from 1982-85, stepped in and spared me further anguish, introducing me - rather, re-introducing me - to Becky Jacobson.

Ah yes! How could I forget Becky Jacobson? A standout in basketball and track and field as well as volleyball at Sandpoint High. ... Played on the Bulldogs' state volleyball teams of '82, '83 and '84. ... As a 5-foot-4 junior at middle blocker, more than held her own at state against a girl from Borah who was one foot taller. ... As a senior, suffered a serious knee injury late in Sandpoint's victory over Nampa in the state championship match - a downer during an otherwise joyous occasion before the hometown fans ... Was unable to play basketball her senior year - except for the time coach Bob Hamilton summoned her off the bench in one game to shoot a pair of free throws following a technical foul - which, of course, she made.

Thinking about all that started to bring back a flood of memories from that era - a sports writer in his first job out of college, covering a program starting to make a name for itself.

"We all kinda grew up together," Matlock recalled, and she was right. Matlock had assisted Pam Parks, who coached Sandpoint for three seasons, winning the school's first state title in 1980. Matlock took over as head coach in 1982, and coached the Bulldogs to four state titles in four seasons - and an overall record of 101-7 — before becoming volleyball coach at Community Colleges of Spokane, where she won 715 matches and four conference championships in 19 seasons. Last week, she was inducted into the Idaho Athletic Hall of Fame, running her total to, I think, four halls of fame that she is now in.

Matlock’s first year as head coach at Sandpoint was my first year out of college, my first job at what was then called the Sandpoint Daily Bee. The other night, prior to the North Idaho Sports Banquet at the Best Western Coeur d’Alene Inn, she was giving me grief about what she perceived as me being timid in those early days — at least when I would approach her for an interview.

(Naturally, I didn’t remember any of that. I always recalled my questions to be thoughtful and insightful.)

I remember the first time I met Irene. It was my first day at the Bee, and they had told me in the office about the local high school volleyball team, which had quickly become one of the best programs in the state, with an outstanding coach who could be, well, a bit intimidating at first.

Still, that sounded like a good place for my first byline story.

That evening (we were an afternoon paper at the time), I drove up to Sandpoint High school to watch the team practice. I took a few pictures, then figured I would go chat with the coach. In the middle of practice.

I didn’t know any better. At that time, my brief experience with interviews was watching someone from the TV station show up at a practice, and it seemed like practice came to a halt while they did the interviews. When the TV people left, practice resumed.

During a break in the practice, I walked up to Irene and introduced myself.

I mentioned that I was writing a story about her team, and wondered if she had a few minutes to chat.

“We practice until 8:30,” she replied. “We can talk then.”

I looked at the clock on the wall of the gym, and it read 6:30. What the heck am I going to do for the next two hours?

So I wandered back upstairs and sat in the bleachers of the old gym, listening to hitters scream “15” and “95” and “55” and wondering what that was all about.

Two hours later, true to her word, we chatted. She explained what all that screaming was about — the numbers referred to areas on the net, and the height of the set. A “15” was a normal, looping set to the outside hitter, almost to the antenna. A “55” was a high set to the middle blocker in the middle of the net, and a “95” was a set to the right side hitter.

We talked a lot during her four years in Sandpoint — sometimes about volleyball, often times about life. Either way, I learned tons, got hooked on volleyball, and played coed volleyball for the next two decades.

Of course, I didn’t get a chance to share that story with her. By that time, Doc Lynn had stepped out into the hallway to shoo everyone into the banquet room, because it was time for the show to begin. I had to leave, but I understand that, during the banquet, Doc said some very nice things about Kirby Krulitz, the Wallace High girls basketball coach who died of a heart attack earlier this year. He said there was a coach like that in every community — a thoughtful, caring person who would go out of their way to help the athletes in their town achieve their potential, as well as teach them lessons they could use in everyday life.

Hopefully that message got through.

Mark Nelke is sports editor of The Press. He can be reached at 664-8176, Ext. 2019, or via e-mail at [email protected].