Ben Etzell brings the heat. (John Fisken photo)
Etzell gets mobbed at home after scoring the winning run in a late-season game. (Shelli Trumbull photo)
Ben Etzell was dynamic. Dare I say, electrifying.
During his days as a Coupeville Wolf, the 2014 grad thrilled on the baseball diamond, delighted on the basketball court and sizzled on the tennis court.
He threw a no-hitter. He struck out 15 in a different game. He became the first CHS athlete ever to be named a league MVP in any sport in the 1A/2A Cascade Conference.
Etzell, (legally) juiced up on Isagenix’s best shakes, wrapped his senior season by going to state in two different sports at virtually the same time.
First he led the Wolf baseball team back to state for the first time in several years, before teaming with Aaron Curtin to advance to the big dance as a doubles team in boys’ tennis.
But long after the athletic achievements fade with time, Etzell, who celebrates his birthday today, will be remembered for being The Human Bruise.
Few dudes play as hard as this kid did, regardless of the sport.
During his junior basketball season, he spent more time bouncing off of the floor, walls and opponents elbows than you can imagine.
His team’s most dynamic scorer that year, his hustle on defense left his body black, blue and purple-yellowish by the end of the campaign.
But even that doesn’t compare to what still stands as the most WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU THINKIN’ moment I have ever heard about in high school sports.
Playing on cement courts, Mr. Etzell threw himself across the tennis court at one point, deliberately, as he madly pursued a runaway ball.
As he slid, in shorts, across the sun-baked cement for some distance, the sound of CHS tennis coach (and lifelong top-level player) Ken Stange screaming “WHHHHHHYYYYYYY?!!!!??!!?!” could be heard way down in La Conner.
On a baseball diamond, where you would hit dirt or grass, OK, you’d get roughed up a bit.
On a tennis court, the guy ripped his leg like he was sliding through an industrial cheese grater.
And yes, he made the shot. And finished the match.
I played high school tennis for three years.
I had a teammate named Darryl, who was even more insanely committed than Ben.
We used to intentionally hit him in the chest with shots during practice, and Darryl would flex and smile like a serial killer.
Darryl NEVER, EVER, EVER slid face-first across a cement tennis court in pursuit of a ball.
Call Etzell the wild man of Wolf Nation. Possibly mental at times. Or just a die-hard, never-give-an-inch athlete.
Ben left behind a legacy at CHS when he graduated. And probably a few bits of his knee, if you look too closely at the tennis court.
Kid was a gamer, all the way, every day, in every way. It was fun to watch him play.
Even during the moments when you did so while cringing and shielding your eyes.
Enjoy your birthday, Mr. Etzell, and the final days of summer freedom before starting college in Minnesota at dad Mike’s alma mater, Saint John’s University.
Oh, and you might want to make sure you packed a couple of extra band-aids. Just sayin’.
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