One is the reason for the other.
Posted: Thu Jul 10, 2025 7:00 am
There are two sounds I can never seem to forget.
One is the winter snow shovel scraping along the concrete basketball court I trudged to in the Petersburg Decembers of my youth, shovel in one hand, ball in the other.
The second is the chain-link net clanging on a Wrangell playground.
I, we — my future teammates and friends — loved country wise email marketing list the game and knew what awaited us in the high school gyms across southeast Alaska.
And in Wrangell, one of the best awaited. Fred Angerman Jr.
As a fifth grader, my lessons in basketball began as Vikings great Dave Ohmer took me under his wing and annihilated me on playground courts through each off-season he wasn’t leading Petersburg on the high school hardwoods of that time.
Basketball official Fred Angerman Jr watches as Vikings senior Trevor McCay shoots over Eielson’s Colten Growden in the 3A state championship game at Anchorage’s Sullivan Arena in 2007. (Klas Stolpe / Juneau Empire)
Basketball official Fred Angerman Jr watches as Vikings senior Trevor McCay shoots over Eielson’s Colten Growden in the 3A state championship game at Anchorage’s Sullivan Arena in 2007. (Klas Stolpe / Juneau Empire)
As my grades increased and he prepared for his first year of college, I had honed my defensive skills as that is all I could seem to accomplish against the guard who had just set the state single-game scoring record, and I could set screens and rebound as that is what I did when we teamed up in our undefeated two-on-two sessions.
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I remember one lesson. My idol, now about to start a second year at college, drove me to the end of the road where we could see Wrangell. Standing on the edge of the water he said, “Can you hear that?”
I wasn’t sure what I was listening for.
“That is Fred Angerman scoring,” he said pointing across the waters that flowed through Dry, Stikine and Sumner Strait. “That is Fred tearing up the playground…”
And he pointed like a compass scouring a map and added the names of players who would make my hopeful entry into high school hoops a rite of passage.
If the excitement could not build any higher, there was a skiff ride one day along the Wrangell Narrows to their docks. A walk through town to the outdoor court. The chance to see, to feel, to hear.
One is the winter snow shovel scraping along the concrete basketball court I trudged to in the Petersburg Decembers of my youth, shovel in one hand, ball in the other.
The second is the chain-link net clanging on a Wrangell playground.
I, we — my future teammates and friends — loved country wise email marketing list the game and knew what awaited us in the high school gyms across southeast Alaska.
And in Wrangell, one of the best awaited. Fred Angerman Jr.
As a fifth grader, my lessons in basketball began as Vikings great Dave Ohmer took me under his wing and annihilated me on playground courts through each off-season he wasn’t leading Petersburg on the high school hardwoods of that time.
Basketball official Fred Angerman Jr watches as Vikings senior Trevor McCay shoots over Eielson’s Colten Growden in the 3A state championship game at Anchorage’s Sullivan Arena in 2007. (Klas Stolpe / Juneau Empire)
Basketball official Fred Angerman Jr watches as Vikings senior Trevor McCay shoots over Eielson’s Colten Growden in the 3A state championship game at Anchorage’s Sullivan Arena in 2007. (Klas Stolpe / Juneau Empire)
As my grades increased and he prepared for his first year of college, I had honed my defensive skills as that is all I could seem to accomplish against the guard who had just set the state single-game scoring record, and I could set screens and rebound as that is what I did when we teamed up in our undefeated two-on-two sessions.
FastCast: Wednesday's best in < 10 minutes
Next
Stay
I remember one lesson. My idol, now about to start a second year at college, drove me to the end of the road where we could see Wrangell. Standing on the edge of the water he said, “Can you hear that?”
I wasn’t sure what I was listening for.
“That is Fred Angerman scoring,” he said pointing across the waters that flowed through Dry, Stikine and Sumner Strait. “That is Fred tearing up the playground…”
And he pointed like a compass scouring a map and added the names of players who would make my hopeful entry into high school hoops a rite of passage.
If the excitement could not build any higher, there was a skiff ride one day along the Wrangell Narrows to their docks. A walk through town to the outdoor court. The chance to see, to feel, to hear.