"We need to make history a bigger part of our lives." Broadcaster John Madden Combes Gym at Champaign Central is named for a man who, for more years than anyone in these parts, wore the cloak of athletic greatness. The misfortune is that some faculty and many students aren''t aware of the sky-high, multicolored rainbow that Harry Combes rode. So here, on his Christmas holiday, is your mandatory history lesson. It begins in the late summer of 1927  three quarters of a century ago, the era of all-white college quintets, underhanded free throws and a center jump after each basket  when Combes transferred to Washington Grade School in Monticello, joining fellow seventh-grader Bob Miller in a friendship that lasted until Combes died 25 years ago. Yes, that''s the same Bob Miller for whom Miller Gym in Monticello is named. Like Combes, he attended the UI. Unlike Combes, he returned home. Bob and Dorothy Miller still attend Sages games in "their gym" in designated seats at midcourt. They were right there Monday night in St. Joseph when the Sages bumped Unity in a showdown of unbeatens. "Harry and I played together for six years," recalls the 87-year-old Miller, the only Monticelloan who served as pall bearer at Combes'' funeral. "He was the most intense player and person you''d ever meet. He never wanted to be beaten, from grade school on up, whether it was basketball or cards or whatever." Simply put, of all the young men who grew up in this section of the state, Harry Combes is unmatched in terms of his athletic accomplishments and contribution to the greater C-U sports community. Monticello went 20-5, 25-2 and 27-2 in Combes'' three seasons (he also starred as a quarterback and a pole vaulter), his late-season leg injury probably costing the Sages a spot in the IHSA Sweet 16 in 1933. He was a two-time All-Big Ten basketball player, and, on teams that were predecessors to the Whiz Kids of the early 1940s, he led Illinois to Big Ten co-championships in 1935 and 1937. He took the basketball helm at Champaign High in his second year out of college, won 84.7 percent of his games during nine campaigns and reached the state championship game three straight years with records of 34-2, 38-1 and 34-4, winning the crown in 1946. He was 32 when the UI moved him across town, and his early run of success was the stuff of legend. Three of his first five teams reached the NCAA Final Four  Illinois since has returned once, in 1989  and his teams in 1951 and 1952 were two-point losers in the NCAA semifinals. In his first nine seasons at the UI, Combes'' teams never finished lower than third in the Big Ten. Adding it up, in a meteoric 25-year run  and discounting his freshman year of ineligibility at Illinois and his first year at Champaign High (before he succeeded Les Moyer)  Combes'' record as a player and coach was 532-114, or an 82 percent rate of success. In those 23 campaigns  until the 1956-57 season, which turned his career in another direction after tall center George BonSalle was ruled ineligible  he averaged a fraction less than five losses per season. At his peak, he was called the Paul Brown of Basketball, successful beyond Hollywood believability standards. And if Combes, in failing health and losing key recruiting wars with the George Wilsons and Cazzie Russells in Chicago, was counted out in the 1960s, he rode Dave Downey and Bill Small to a Big Ten title in 1963 and had pieced together another splendid squad before the infamous "slush fund" felled Combes and the Illini in December 1967. We''ll get around to that, but first the good years. The great years. His Monticello home Now understand, Combes wasn''t the only hero in the family of Hester and Harry Sr. Four grades behind came Linden, smaller and less tenacious than his brother but a bombardier and navigator who flew 66 missions over Europe in World War II, earning a Purple Heart, two Distinguished Flying Crosses and 13 Air Medals. Retired and residing in Monticello, Linden recalled seeing German anti-aircraft shots destroy a plane directly in front of him, snapping it in two. "I watched it like you would watch a movie, the plane in two pieces with the props still going," he said. "And our pilot was killed on another mission. The co-pilot brought the plane in." That''s Linden, as unassuming as Harry was determined, as relaxed as Harry was high-strung. Linden was the youngster keeping score while Harry racked up the baskets. Linden was there cheering when Harry played infield for the Champaign Plumbers in the Eastern Illinois League. As a freshman at the UI, Linden lived with Harry during the latter''s first year at Champaign High. They always were close. "As soon as Harry reached high school, he played sports the year around," Linden said. "I went to all the games. He wasn''t big (maybe 5-11 at his peak) but he was quick, and he always seemed able to get his shot. He and Bob Miller were pretty even as scorers. We always believed the Sages would go to state in his senior year if Harry hadn''t gotten a knee in the thigh. "I never doubted Harry had the ability to make it at Illinois. He was so determined." Miller recalls the 28-22 sectional loss to Hutsonville at Casey, when Harry "was almost hysterical" wanting to play in spite of his severe thigh bruise. Harry tried but had to be taken out. And Hutsonville, with a 6-8 center, prevailed by getting virtually every tip after every made basket. It was the disappointing culmination of a run that began early in their sophomore season when coach Carl Lutman broke his own rule of not starting sophomores after his seniors fell short in several early Monticello losses. "We were in the lineup long before Okaw Valley play, and we only lost one Okaw game each year," Miller said. "I was more of an outside shooter, and Harry had the ability to drive to the basket. He used his elbows and cleared his own path. That was his specialty. He shot a lot of free throws. "He was somewhat frail, never weighed more than 150 pounds in high school. Looking at his build, you wouldn''t think he''d be that great. But he was also very good in football and as a pole vaulter. He had a do-or-die attitude." Combes enrolled with the UI''s "best freshman class in a decade," new coach Leland "Slim" Stilwell fielding a group that included Pick Dehner, Benton''s Wib Henry, Tolono''s Bud Riegel, Chicagopitcher-forward Hale Swanson and Morton''s Jim Vopicka. Combes was named freshman captain, and, after some uncertainty whether he should be a forward or guard, cracked the varsity lineup early in his sophomore season and sparked an 8-1 finish that earned Illinois a share of the Big Ten title  the championship coming after coach Craig Ruby had gone a mediocre 55-53 in Big Ten play in the nine previous seasons. "Who said sophomores couldn''t play basketball?" wrote The News-Gazette''s Eddie Jacquin. "Who said Champaign County (Riegel) and the Okaw Valley didn''t turn out cage stars?" This came after an early 37-36 triumph against Purdue at a time when Purdue''s Ward "Piggy" Lambert was regarded the nation''s No. 1 coach. "That kid Combes beat us with those two dizzy shots," Lambert was quoted after Combes ignited a rally from a 27-19 deficit. "Does he always hit ''em like that?" Combes contributed 12 points in a follow-up 44-23 triumph at Ohio State, playing every minute. The Combes saga was rolling in full force. He was a star. Two days later, in mid-January, Jacquin called Combes "the most dependable boy on the team right now." And on he went through the typical ups and downs of a fierce title run. The 34-22 win against Michigan wasn''t impressive, several Wolverine regulars remaining at home because, as it was related, "they couldn''t resist the wiles of the Wisconsin co-eds last Monday night" ... whatever that means. Purdue later got revenge, but the Illini won their last five games to tie Purdue and Wisconsin for the 1935 title. If 1936 went less impressively (13-6), Lou Boudreau was waiting in the wings as a freshman and joined coach Doug Mills'' first UI team in a flashy, undersized run for the 1937 crown. Combes had a slow start because of another leg injury, but he returned in time to make the Big Ten''s first all-star quintet for the second straight year. Of a 42-28 rout of Iowa, Urbana''s Bert Bertine wrote: "The lads from tall corn country were reputed to have a stout defensive club, but all their efforts availed them little ... (because of) the brilliant play of Louie Boudreau and Harry Combes." Combes added 16 points against Indiana at Huff Gym, with a reported 7,000 on hand. The Illini were filling the gym, and Harry was becoming the UI''s most recognizable name since Red Grange. Swanson''s tipin at Purdue broke a 14-year losing spell in West Lafayette, the 38-37 result precipitating a riot in which Mills and Combes were knocked to the floor, Jacquin noting, "The attack on the (UI) team was inexcusable and added another black chapter to the long list of poor sportsmanship charges against Purdue followers." Combes racked 19 points in the next win against Chicago, but Purdue gained revenge, 61-34, in Champaign. The Illini needed to win their last four games to share the crown with Minnesota, and they did. Born to lead Combes received the Big Ten Medal for proficiency in scholarship and athletics, and Champaign veterans believe he had an agreement to succeed Moyer when he signed on as assistant basketball coach (and head baseball coach) for the Maroons. The intensity and razor-sharp intelligence that were always his carried Combes to immediate heights as a coach. "He was so competitive," said Ted Beach, who played three years for him at Champaign High and three years at the UI. "He was tough in practice, and his players would do anything for him. He was innovative, a student of the game. From the first day, he said we were going to do something different, something that would give us floor burns and blisters. We pressed all over the court. We stole the inbounds pass more than once." Combes'' attacking, freelance style terrorized the opposition as Champaign High ruled after World War II. The bitter disappointment of a title-game loss to Decatur in 1945  with a seven-man squad because Jim Cottrell, John McDermott and Del Cantrell were sidelined  was followed in 1946 by a convincing title-game win against Centralia, setting off a wild community celebration. The Maroons lost the title game to Paris in 1947, completing a three-year run into the IHSA title game. No Champaign-Urbana team has reached the IHSA''s final game in the 55 years since. Although it took a while for the decision to be formalized, Combes was the natural successor to Mills in the UI''s post-Whiz Kids era. Although Combes said "the floor is bigger and college kids are so much better ball handlers that we can''t go all the way pressing," he implemented a fast-break style that set a record for Big Ten points in 1948, a mark his Illini broke numerous times thereafter. His first two UI teams featured a slick pivot passer in Wally Osterkorn, the slashing Bill Erickson and the majestic Dike Eddleman, Big Ten MVP on Combes'' first Final Four team in 1949. Those three in particular stand out like giants for this high school senior who was fortunate to attend a few games in sold-out Huff Gym. Combes, reaching rock star proportions, had hot dice in his hands again and he kept rolling. He matched Don Sunderlage with Champaign''s Beach and Rod Fletcher and super-sophs Clive Follmer, Irv Bemoras and Bob Peterson in 1951, reaching the NCAA semifinals before Kentucky prevailed 76-74. He added Red Kerr and inserted Jim Bredar for Sunderlage in 1952 when, for a second year in a row, the Illini lost a semifinal two-pointer, this time to St. John''s. "Some of those early players weren''t much younger than Harry (when he started)," said Judge Fred Green, who hit the winning basket in a 46-45 win against Indiana in 1948. "But he had no difficulty. Harry was a straight shooter and a devoted student of the game ... an innovator in high school who brought his free-wheeling game to Illinois." Expanding his racehorse style through the years, Combes saw his athletes top 100 points for the first time in 1955. The 1963 co-champs beat Indiana 104-101 at home and lost at Indiana 103-100. In 1964-65, the Illini topped the magical 100 mark nine times, beginning with a riotous 110-83 rout of No. 2 UCLA. "Harry had a powerful idea about offense," Downey said. "It was like when Mike White came to Illinois and all the receivers were suddenly getting open. Harry had a way of getting his shooters clear for open shots." But the pressure, the personal demands, the long hours were taking a toll. Illness forced Combes to miss several games through the years, including the end of the 1962 season when he turned over a 12-3 team to Braun and, after two more wins, the Illini sagged into a five-game losing streak. Combes ultimately was diagnosed with diabetes. Miller saw what was happening to his long-time friend. "Harry demanded perfection, both of himself and his players," Miller said. "I met him one day at the airport, and he told me, ''This is becoming a rat race. Some of these athletes are almost impossible to deal with. They want to know, if I come, will I play?'' That''s something I can''t promise. This is wearing me down. "I could see what was happening. I''d take him fishing after the season, and he had become a chain smoker. He (like Mills) did a lot of social drinking. I was afraid he''d become an alcoholic. He lived life at a very fast pace. "I stayed here all my life and ran a dairy. I''ve never had a cigarette, and I''ve never tasted beer or any alcoholic beverage. I know that''s unusual. We took different paths." Beginning of the end Caught up in his "rat race," Combes saw his majestic career crash suddenly for his involvement in an illegal "slush fund" that struck down the UI basketball and football programs. It hit like a bombshell in December 1967 when assistant director Mel Brewer, embittered because "a Michigan man," Pete Elliott, was to replace Mills as athletic director, handed the UI administration records he had been keeping on three illegal funds. A winless football season in 1961 probably inspired the official formation of an organized under-table plan. From April 1962 until December 1966, the football fund received $15,354.77 and disbursed $14,378.99. The basketball fund began in February 1964, receiving $10,520 from supporters and disbursing $7,043.96. Some $600 was transferred to a third fund  the Mills fund  and $220 was used for administrative travel expenses. This money, obtained from alumni privately and at gatherings, mostly was used to distribute monthly payments of less than $50 to needy athletes. This was considered a routine approach employed by several Big Ten schools desirous of meeting recruiting challenges from nonconference schools that were permitted to hand out $15 per month in spending money, but it was illegal under Big Ten rules. Future pros Rich Jones and Steve Kuberski and standout center Ron Dunlap were declared immediately ineligible. Combes, assistant Howie Braun and football coach Pete Elliott, bowing to a Big Ten "show cause" edict, ultimately were forced to resign. If Combes brought east central Illinoisans some of their grandest sports moments, he wound up in the epicenter of the greatest trauma the university sports program has ever known. The Neale Stoner scandal was minor compared to this. Combes had grown up here, had a huge following and had waved the baton of success for more than 30 years. Elliott was the most popular man in three states. The groundswell of torn emotions grew to earthquake proportions. To this day, townspeople who knew Combes personally aren''t clear how much he knew, or how much he left to his take-charge recruiter, Braun, and to close friends like late insurance man Cy Vaughn. Combes'' integrity was such that he declined radio-TV overtures and wouldn''t accept a free car, living modestly and stepping down in 1967 with a salary of $16,200. When it came to recruiting, he let Braun do it. Said one who was close to the program: "Howie was the one out in the field, dealing with the competition. Harry seldom attended a high school game. When prospects came to campus, Howie brought them to Harry''s office, sat them down and took them out again. Harry would never have mentioned anything like that (monthly payments) to a player." When the story broke in Chicago, where the team was scheduled to play, Combes appeared stunned and confused by the magnitude of it. Huge scandals also marked the careers of two of the greatest coaches of all time, Combes contemporaries Adolph Rupp at Kentucky and John Wooden at UCLA. And if historians will agree they should have known, and couldn''t have been completely in the dark, the debate will continue as to how much they actually participated. Best guess is that Combes had tunnel vision when it came to coaching, that he understood in a general way what was happening, that he had been assured by Mills that this was the way the game was played in the Big Ten and that he elected to let others handle the details. Some say he followed the advice of a recruit-expert friend who told him, "Harry, you coach ''em, we''ll do what it takes to get ''em." Said a former UI athlete: "Several of us were prepared to file affidavits stating that other Big Ten schools made similar offers, but that was discouraged. It wouldn''t have accomplished anything to say that everybody was doing it, so we didn''t." Forced out of coaching, Combes'' influence remained so strong that his support for Harv Schmidt made the next coach a done deal. But if Combes brooded about basketball defeats, imagine how much deeper this bored into his soul. He had absorbed a body blow from which he never fully recovered. No one suffered more through the "slush fund" ordeal. Into the 1970s, he split time between the physical education department and the Department of Plant and Services where he handled civil defense responsibilities. He never returned to the whirl, retiring in 1973, and might have felt some bitterness at being, for the first time since his early teens, out of the mix. In increasing bad health, he died in 1977 at 62. And to those who knew him best, he left this Earth as a gentleman of integrity, fierce intensity and utter reliability. Name another who was raised here, starred here, coached here, reached Hall-of-Fame heights and stayed here. That''s Harry Combes: Monticello''s finest. Champaign''s finest. The UI''s finest.