NEWS

Rim Shot Rennie finds his purpose

Kevin Frisch

Back in high school, Rennoldson Burt was known for two things. He was the only student who, when attendance was taken last-name-first, sounded like his name was being read first-name-last. And he had an incredible propensity for rim shots -- not the musical kind, where the drumstick hits the edge of the drum at the same time as the skin to create a loud retort, but the sports kinds.

Rennoldson didn't have the most unusual first name in our class -- we had a boy named Alpheus, a girl named Espen and a Yancy, who had permission to skip gym class and, thus, remained of an undetermined gender.

Rennie, as he was known when attendance wasn't being taken, was a pretty good athlete: tall, coordinated, in shape. I didn't play alongside him much because we went out for different sports. In the fall, he played lacrosse and I ran cross country. In the winter, he went out for basketball while I went home and watched "Match Game." It wasn't until the spring, when we both made the baseball team, that I got to know him.