Running Backs Flynn, Meadows Highlighted Big Game of ’56

You might have stayed home that night to watch “Sky King� or “The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin.� You might have gone Christmas shopping--Mr. Potato Head or an Erector Set for the kids, a Peggy Lee album (vah, vah, voom) for you and the missus.

But if you were a true Southern California sports fan, Friday, Dec. 14, 1956, probably meant one thing: Downey High versus Anaheim at the Los Angeles Coliseum.

This Southern Section championship game featured the two-most famed high school running backs of the time: Anaheim’s Mickey Flynn and Downey’s Randy Meadows. Both backs were quick and elusive, capable of at least one long, dazzling run per game. Neither particularly enjoyed the spotlight that seemed to follow them everywhere.

Anaheim, 12-0, was guided by the late Clare Van Hoorebeke, perhaps the county’s greatest coaching legend even then. Downey, also 12-0, was coached by a 28-year-old rookie named Dick Hill, who went on to become the county’s winningest high school coach at Santa Ana Valley and Santa Ana High.

Certainly, high school football wasn’t the end-all of conversation at the time. President Eisenhower had just been elected to a second term. The Soviet Union had invaded Hungary. Peppermint toothpaste was introduced. Gas was 31 cents a gallon. The first U.S. space satellite was under construction. Social scientists announced that more and more men were helping in the kitchen.

But as fans piled into their cars and headed for the Coliseum on that foggy December evening, the talk was no doubt about the big game--one that the late Times sportswriter John De La Vega had described in the paper that morning as “the dangedest football Donnybrook in Southland prep annals.�

In Anaheim, then a community of 60,000 surrounded by orange, lemon and avocado groves, a barber hung a sign on his shop window that read: “Going To The Game . . . Why Don’t You?�

Around Orange County, folks were caught up in the frenzy. From Brea to Dairy City (now Cypress), the Anaheim High Colonists were talked about almost as much as Don Larsen’s perfect game in the World Series just two months earlier.

The showdown was scheduled for an 8 p.m. start. The stadium gates and ticket booths were scheduled to open at 6. Past championship games had attracted as many as 8,000 fans. Officials figured this one might bring in 10,000--max.

But by 5:30, Southern Section Commissioner Ken Fagans knew that estimate was too conservative. A large crowd was already waiting to get in.

“I thought, ‘Good night! No one has ever come to an 8 o’clock game this early!’ � Fagans said.

An hour later, the line to buy tickets was a half-mile long. There were only eight ticket-takers, all overwhelmed. Fagans opened a large gate usually used for vehicle entry and started taking cash--$2 adults, $1 students--instead of tickets. Dollars were flying everywhere, fans rushed in. It was chaotic.

The official attendance was announced at 41,383, but Fagans said the figure was probably closer to 50,000. (He says it took him and three others two days to count the money, most of it wadded up in cardboard to-go containers from the Coliseum snack bar.)

Mickey Flynn, now 54 and living in Fullerton, says he heard the crowd was big, but he couldn’t really tell. By the time the game started, the increasing fog and the reflection from the stadium lights made it too difficult to see the stands. Not that it mattered. Anaheim had other problems.

The night before the game, a local Elks Club played host to a chicken dinner in honor of the Anaheim players, Flynn said. The next day, on the bus ride to the game, six players came down with food poisoning, the flu or both. The sick ones left their marks on the bus windows, between seats and on a few cars below. The healthy ones tried hard not to get sick from the smell.

Anaheim won the coin flip. Downey kicked off. Meadows left the game with an elbow injury but soon returned. With 2:45 left in the first quarter, Flynn raced off tackle 62 yards into the end zone. Meadows answered that less than two minutes later, going 69 yards on a right sweep for the score. But the conversion attempt was kicked short. Downey trailed, 7-6.

After a scoreless second quarter, Flynn scored on a one-yard run in the third quarter. The extra-point kick sailed wide. Anaheim led, 13-6.

But Downey came back in the fourth quarter, getting three first downs from the rushing of halfback Brent McDowell. Teammate Ron Russell scored from one yard. Downey trailed, 13-12. Hill, now an assistant coach at Foothill, called a timeout. He told his players they were going for the conversion run.

Not that it was worth more than a kick--conversion runs only counted for one point then. But Hill figured it was a safer bet. Russell ran it in to tie the score, 13-13. The clock ran out before either team gained enough momentum to break the tie.

Flynn, who gained 134 yards in 17 carries, was awarded the game ball. Meadows, 112 yards in 10 carries, said if he had to tie, he was glad it was with Anaheim. Seven months later, Flynn and Meadows were at the Coliseum again--as teammates on the South team for a Shrine All-Star game that attracted 85,931 fans.

Although those high school heydays may be gone--back then, with the Dodgers in Brooklyn, the Lakers in Minneapolis, the Angels in the Pacific Coast League, there wasn’t as much competition for the sports dollar outside of the Rams and Roller Derby--the Anaheim-Downey game is still remembered as one of the best.

Flynn, a grandfather of five and a charter inductee into the Orange County Sports Hall of Fame, says he is often reminded of the game.

“A guy came up to me recently,� Flynn said. “He asked me, ‘Are you Mickey?’ I said, ‘Yep.’ He says, ‘I was at the game!’

“I come across that a lot. Of course, it’s a lot more fun to talk about now than it was back then.�