Tsai-ko Autobiography:  Long Time UH Fan

Name:  Frederick M. H. Pang   (October 27, 1937 – January 10, 2010)
High School:  Farrington 1955
Tsai-ko Lunch Size:  Large
Original Tsai-ko caricature:  last row, 2nd from left

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From the Warrior Beat blog September 25, 2007:
ST's Intro:
Long Time UH Fan is one of our favorite contributors.
His bio will surely take all of us back to a fond time.

Born and raised — until age 14 — in Honolulu’s version of “hell’s half acre” better known as “Tin Can Alley.” Landmarks were Mun Lun Chinese Language School and Beretania Follies Theater. Lived in tenement housing in a two- bedroom apartment with 10 other family members. Being poor, I used to look for soda bottles, which were refunded for two cents each; scrounged for apple and orange crates to bring home for firewood to heat our bath water, and raised chickens for our every other Sunday dinner.

Attended Royal Elementary School. Most of the neighborhood kids played pick-up football games on the streets and at the Smith-Beretania Street Park. We played touch football on the streets, telephone pole to telephone pole. Mostly we threw passes. When we played tackle football at the park we didn't have any fancy plays but just carried the ball and plunged through the line. We would pass the ball occasionally but only a few forward passes were completed. There were no first downs, just four downs to score or give up the ball to the other team. The goal lines were the big monkeypod trees. We played jun, ken, po to choose sides. Just picture a bunch of rag-tag kids playing barefoot in sweats and puka pants, no helmets or pads. Every time I go to Chinatown, I pass that park and reminisce about the days of my youth. It was good fun, though. Fond memories!

When I was 9, I shined shoes for a nickel next to the Hawaii Theater. At 11, my cousin and I shared a paper route of 150+ customers encompassing Nuuanu Avenue, River, Kukui, and Beretania Streets for the afternoon paper. (Sorry, ST.) Problem was 20 percent of the customers were poor and usually stiffed us when we tried to collect the paper bill. The district manager was of no help as he said we needed to keep those customers. Auwe, lose money, yeah. We used to get aku heads from the fish vendors at Oahu Market to catch crabs, stuck hook mullet in River Stream, catch dojo at Waikahalulu Falls to sell to Filipino men, and shoot doves for dinner. My favorite pastime was raiding the neighbors' common mango trees and eating green common mangoes with shoyu and black pepper.

About that time Dad, who was a sports enthusiast, treated me to see my first football game--UH played in the Pineapple Bowl at the Honolulu Stadium. Vaguely remembered much about the game except that they won. I guess this is when I started enjoying the boiled peanuts at the old Termite Palace. Enjoyed watching a “real” football game very much and became an instant fan. Sensing that I had a love for the game, he took me to high school games and of course, the traditional Turkey Day doubleheaders; and I started fantasizing of being a star football player like Herman Wedemeyer.

Central Intermediate School was a rough and rugged school and every now and then I’d get bust up. Mainly because I tried to protect my lunch money! Dad taught me how to box but I still got bust up; but maybe not as bad as before. Funny the "highjackers" never bothered me after I made friends with the bulls of the school. I didn't make much progress in the boxing ring and no future boxing champion for sure. Dad was an amateur boxing champion in the flyweight division. Not many Tsaikos are in that weight range, including me. Through him I met several of the top boxers during those times like Carl Bobo Olson, Frankie Fernandez, and Dado Marino. Enjoyed going with him to the boxing and wrestling matches at the Civic Auditorium. My favorite wrestlers were Handsome Johnny Barend and the Missing Link.

When I was 14, we moved to Kalihi, where the pig farms used to be located, near the present site of Dole Intermediate School. We lived downwind from the pig farms so I often wondered why my parents bought this place. But I was happy that I only had to share the room with my kid brother. Kalihi, is the home of football and “other kind” talent. At Farrington High School (Go Govs!) as a sophomore, I played one game at the JV level; got hurt when I got clipped during an interception return and Mom said no more football. So I was relegated to the position of Hydration Facilitator (used to be called water boy back then).

I did fairly well in school until my senior year (which I would like to forget) when I developed senioritis. My focus was on meeting girls at other high schools, going to Hi-Y club socials, and just messing around. I did manage to graduate in 1955 much to the surprise of my parents, Trigonometry and English & Social Studies teachers. My Trig teacher was also the varsity baseball coach and talked more about baseball than the subject matter; the English & Social Studies teacher and I did not get along especially when she tried to make me recite the mushy lines of Romeo in Shakespeare's play; she sent me to see the Vice Principal and he gave me one week of detention sweeping the halls after school.

Lacking academic passion, I joined the Air Force after much arm twisting by two high school classmates. Got my first taste of “cruising” on the USS Shanks, an old troop transport, from Honolulu, T.H. to San Francisco. As an afterthought, I always wondered why the heck I joined the Air Force and ended up sailing across the Pacific for six days in rough waters. After basic training at Parks AFB, and technical school training for jet aircraft mechanic at Amarillo AFB, I was assigned to Davis-Monthan AFB in Tucson, AZ as my permanent station. (Here I learned how to live with tarantulas, spiders, gila monsters and rattlesnakes in 115 degree weather).

We played “touch football” on base and I got knocked out when I tried to block
a guy who was 6 foot 200+ pounds. Thus ended my football playing days and coach gave me a choice of Equipment Manager or Hydration Facilitator. I guess I didn’t learn the “punch” technique very well. Was crew chief for F-86D fighter-interceptor and survived a scary incident where I almost lost my life. Serving as fire guard, the aircraft was on engine run up when jet fuel came flowing out of the wheel wells and ignited on the flight line. I just yelled “fire” and ran like hell. Thanks coach, for teaching me “speed” skills. So you see playing football does come in handy at times.

After my four-year stint in the Air Force, I attended UH in the College of Engineering in 1959. I joined the American Society of Civil Engineers club and we played an intramural football game with a frat, Peng Hui. I got clipped by one of the frat guys and when I got up he apologized and asked if I wanted to join their frat. Must have been my reputation preceded me as being a “clippee” or “hydration facilitator”.
During those lean football years I used to sit at the old Honolulu Stadium with a couple of thousand die hard fans watching UH play club teams, service club teams and lower division colleges. It wasn’t until 1968 when Coach Dave Holmes took the reins that the program started to pick up more fan interest.

After two and one half years at UH I got married in 1962; still married to the same wonderful woman who has put up with my shenanigans for going on 45 years now. Worked for several years at Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard as an Apprentice Machinist. With her undaunted support and encouragement, I returned to UH and obtained a B.A. degree in Mathematics and minored in socializing at Kuhio Grill. I took two graduate courses (partial differential equations and topology) to test the waters for one semester. Anyway, they were teaching stuff that very few people understood, including me. So I thought of better things to do…like going bowling at Varsity Bowl…nah, j/k..but like earning a living. Tight for money, we had two kids by then , and she was the sole supporter, I withdrew from school. After much household debate I accepted a Statistician position and went on to become a State of Hawaii bureaucrat until I retired as Chief of Research & Statistics. And don't ask me now how to solve math problems because I have difficulty balancing my check book.

Working downtown I ballooned in weight due to partaking in numerous cattle calls aka buffets and lunch wagons. Dad used to look at me and say too bad you weren’t this heavy at Central Intermediate School, nobody would’ve bust you up. Funny guy, yeah!

Since retirement we have continued to support Boyd Group’s enterprise (last time Al went to visit Sin City, he confirmed that my money was still there; and my friends call me "bakatare" because as a Statistician I should know that the casino odds are against you), traveled to different parts of the world doing land tours and going on cruises. And in between we have done our share of grandparenting, at the beck and call of our kids.

We have two adult children and three grandchildren. Our kids had no choice but to attend UH games with us since the Rust Palace opened in 1975. We sat in the north end zone in el cheapo seats but they were happy to be there. Throughout the years they too have become staunch Warrior fans. Eventually we got upgraded to level 5, yellow seats, the very last row where you could get a nosebleed but nobody could throw rubbish on you. And finally to level 2, blue seats on the 20 yard line, makai sidelines; but now they moved the Rainbow Dancers to the North end zone; just can’t win, yeah!

We have gone through the Coach Price, Tomey, Wagner, VonAppen, and JJ years. Unfortunately due to economic reasons, daughter and her family now watch the games on PPV with their maniac friends. Son is now working on a neighbor island and doesn't have the weekend off so he gave up our season tickets due to my health condition. But we are determined to make as many games at Aloha Stadium as possible. Maybe we’ll be going full circle and back to where we started…sitting in the north end zone. Heck I’ve been waiting a lifetime for a team of this caliber. Who cares where we sit…time is getting short…can’t miss out on making this once in a lifetime “memories” now. We are truly a Warrior family for life!

Go Warriors!
Colt for Heisman!

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