MOMENTS, MEMORIES and MADNESS with STEVE CAMERON: 'Mr. Cameron' knew enough to vouch for Lonnie Kruger

It will always feel strange.

On Saturday morning, I watched Oklahoma hand Kansas its third straight loss, an unusual dive that hasn’t befallen the Jayhawks since the 2012-13 season.

On the other side…

The victory was No. 646 in the 30-year college coaching career of Lonnie Kruger.

And yes, I will always call him Lonnie, for a couple of reasons.

The most significant, on my end, is that I first knew him as a 15-year-old with a flat-top haircut — playing every sport offered at Silver Lake High, maybe 10 miles down the road from Topeka, Kansas.

Lonnie can correct me on this one, but I believe the student body at Silver Lake numbered 102 when Lonnie was a 140-pound sophomore – and already the best basketball player in the state.

Oh, I almost forgot…

The other reason I still call him Lonnie — as opposed to the more professional “Lon” that you’ve heard for decades now — is that the name on his birth certificate is Lonnie Duane Kruger.

So there.

WE’VE HAD an unusual thing with names over the years, Lonnie and I.

He referred to me as “Mr. Cameron” religiously when he was in high school, and then again when he was the two-time conference player of the year at Kansas State.

That felt OK, but later — when I was a columnist for the Denver Post — K-State came out to play Colorado.

I was good friends with Coach Jack Hartman, who had been Lonnie’s coach with the Wildcats (more on that in a second), and we made plans to have dinner the night before the game.

By then, Lonnie was Hartman’s assistant.

A bona fide college coach.

Still, when we met at their hotel, Lonnie could not drop the “Mr. Cameron.”

I told him it was time to call me Steve, and he replied: “I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable doing that.”

Lonnie makes about $2.5 million per season coaching Oklahoma these days, so I’m assuming he finally could retire the Mr. Cameron reference.

Knowing him, though, I’m not entirely positive.

I’VE GOT so many Lonnie Kruger stories that we could turn this into a series, but for today I suppose just a couple will work.

One of my favorites involves the first time I ever saw the boy, in an American Legion baseball game.

You can play at that level until age 18, but Lonnie was 15, I believe.

The evening was a bit chaotic before a pitch was thrown, because we had a summer intern photographer shooting the game for the Topeka Capital-Journal.

Her name was Susan Ford, her father was president of the United States — and so, besides a Secret Service detachment — there were big-city reporters hanging around to write about Susan’s gig.

Anyhow…

Right, so eventually when the game got to crunch time, the Topeka pitcher ran out of gas and looked like he might blow a big lead.

Lonnie’s dad was the coach, and he summoned his son to come in from shortstop to pitch — with the bases full, two out and a two-run lead.

That deficit was promptly cut in half, because Lonnie walked a batter to force in a run.

LONNIE’S fastball wasn’t overpowering at that age, and the time he tried a curve, he bounced the ball in the dirt.

Lawrence’s best hitter had the situation figured out, and when the count got to 3-and-1, he crushed a fastball about 3 miles — but foul.

I was thinking…

This next pitch is going to get shelled. They have to hope it’s right at somebody.

Except…

Lonnie startled everyone by throwing one more curve, and snapped it right over the plate.

Strike three, game over, thanks for coming, drive safely on your way home.

I’d never laid eyes on Lonnie Kruger until that night, but as he walked off the mound after throwing just one breaking pitch for a strike, I remember thinking…

He could do that again, a thousand times, if it meant winning the game.

I even wondered if he’d bounced a few curves just to set up the close-out pitch.

A 15-year-old assassin.

Oh, and as far as I know, Lonnie’s first-ever photo (of many) to appear in our paper was taken by Susan Ford.

Cool, eh?

NOW, THE Hartman story.

Jack got the K-State coaching job very late, long after most recruits had been gobbled up that year.

One afternoon, I got a call at our office — remember, I was just a kid reporter who was assigned to the prep sports beat – and this voice said, “Steve, it’s Coach Hartman. I wonder if you could meet me at the Holiday Inn for a cup of coffee.”

It was totally puzzling since I’d never met Jack Hartman, but I accepted the invitation. 
After introductions in a nearly deserted dining area at the hotel, Jack got down to business.

“Look,” he said, “people around here say I can trust your judgment.”

If I had been surprised by the phone call, I was REALLY surprised by that statement.

“I have one scholarship left,” Hartman said. “Some of our alums and a few high school coaches around here want me to sign the little guy from Silver Lake.

“But here’s the thing…

“You never want to sign a local player unless he’s good enough to get on the court. Fans will chant his name if we’re down by 10, and if you know from practices that he’d get killed by elite-level players, it’s a problem.

“And you’re stuck.”

Bottom line, Hartman wanted to know if Lonnie Kruger might be able to hold his own as a back-up in what was then the Big Eight Conference.

IT WAS easy to answer that question.

I’d seen Lonnie play against the best teams in the state, and totally dominate games despite having only one player on the roster who could catch his passes.

“Coach,” I said, “you should offer Lonnie Kruger a scholarship today.”

Hartman’s eyebrows shot up.

“He’ll not only be able to play in the Big Eight,” I said, going miles too far out on a limb, “but I guarantee he’ll be on the all-conference team before he’s finished.”

Looking back on that day, I suspect Hartman probably thought I was just some young hotshot who was trying to make an impression.

Or something.

But I had learned by then…

If anyone in Kansas or the Midwest wanted to gamble on a wild prediction, your best bet would have been to gamble on Lonnie Kruger.

Three decades later, that’s still not a terrible idea.

Email: scameron@cdapress.com

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. “Moments, Memories and Madness,” his reminiscences from several decades as a sports journalist, runs each Sunday.

Steve also writes Zags Tracker, a commentary on Gonzaga basketball which is published each Tuesday.