Like most of you, I’d never heard the name Caleb Campbell until Sunday. I was having one of those oxymoronic moments where everything I did was contradictory.

On one of the most beautiful days in America, I was lying on the coach, trying to get in the mood for a Giants’ season which is sure to hurt, but could possibly be exciting—by reading about the Yankees/Cardinals World Series (David Halberstam’s October 1964).

Reading about old school baseball in the springtime is about as good as life gets. Though I’m a male and can’t multi-task well, I had the TV tuned to ESPN, so I could keep up with the National Football League’s annual draft.

Talk about mindless. I knew none of the players. I cared only cared about a couple of teams. However, it was likely that a Cal Bear or two (actually, six were chosen overall) might be picked and I wanted to keep track of them.

How cool was it that Mike Gibson, from Napa High, who starred on the offensive line for the Bears got picked by Pittsburg? Napa Valley Chauvinist that I am, it always does my heart good when one of our local crop succeeds. I go back to rhapsodizing in the fact that Don Mossi, a former Carpy Ganger, pitched for the Detroit Tigers. I don’t know if there are any other Valley kids besides Calistoga’s Bob Knepper who made it to the show—but I honor any who did.

I’m assuming it doesn’t count that the St. Helena Cemetery sports Arnold “Chick” Gandil, the alleged ring leader of the Black Sox Scandal in 1919. Conniving with Arnold Rothstein to throw a World Series may not look so hot one one’s resume, but 90years after the fact, it does have a certain cache.

And we all know where Cookie Lavagetto lies. That this street car dodging “bum” beat the Yankees with a pinch hit in the 1947 World Series (the last hit of his career, by the way) is interred in St. Helena, not far from Chick Gandil, adds a touch of poetry to a Valley made famous by baseball genius and youth sports icon, our legendary Al Carpy.

When it comes to sports stars, Napa County can’t hold a candle to Pennsylvania’s Washington, Beaver or Allegheny Counties, home to Montana, Namath, Marino, Unitas et al. But we do take pride in our own and Marty James’ updates in the Register about the progress of local heroes is a must read.



I know. Sports is silly, and thanks to the likes of Chuck Barkley, kids shouldn’t look at athletes as role models. But suppose Sir Charles is wrong?

At my age, I can’t look at kids as role models. I’m too old. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t remember what it was like to be a kid and get a chin strap from Joe Kapp, a cocktail napkin autographed by White Ford, or a baseball signed by Willie Mays. Athletic hero worship is a part of childhood mythology.

So what’s this have to do with Caleb Campbell? Turns out he was drafted in the last (7th) round by Detroit Lions’ head coach Rod Marinelli.

Of course, we are prejudiced because of Marinelli’s pedigree—nine years at Cal.

If you google Marinelli, you get this quote, “While every team has a comparable level of “talent” within its roster, things like: fundamentals… work ethic… attention to detail… leadership… passion… and commitment truly make the difference in the NFL…..( he wants) a roster made up of players who have true “ football character”—players who have such a profound love of football that they will not allow anything to compromise or interfere with their desire and preparation to be the very best they can be.”

A Vietnam veteran, he’s a stand up guy. So why did he choose Caleb Campbell?

The ESPN folks had done their homework. They had film on the kid. They had him in Radio Studio to plead his case on TV before he was picked. But what sets Caleb apart from the others?

He’s the first West Pointer history to be invited to the NFL combine. He’s got size, speed, and the intangibles that make for a great footballer.

But his destiny is Iraq—unless he makes it in the NFL. Oh, he’s still got his five year commitment, but he will be stateside, instead of going abroad.

The fans in Radio City went crazy. “U.S.A---U.S.A”---they shouted. They all stood as he came to talk to the commentators. They clapped and shouted his name, over and over.

Fans from every team in the league, who could agree on NOTHING—agreed they loved him.

We were in tears.

The commentators could barely be heard. Would he be drafted? It made for great theater. Finally, the Vietnam Vet, Detroit Head Coach Rod Marinelli, pulled the trigger—the Black Knight would become a Lion.

Maybe he won’t make it. But for one brief moment, fans across the county were spell bound, teary eyed, and united with those fans in the Studio who were shouting his name.

You may not understand the War in Iraq. But if you are not in awe of these children who are willing to sign up, knowing that may be their destination, you are missing something special.

And if you think America isn’t behind these kids—we were watching different shows on Sunday. Were I a woman running “the House” or running for office—I’d pay heed to mindless things like the NFL draft. They might say something about Americans that doesn’t show up in the Polls.


















Jeffrey Earl Warren
James Warren & Son
1414 Main St.
St. Helena, Ca.
94574
707-963-2748