JJ says: Remembering when Leghorns were king of Petaluma sports

The Butter and Egg Days Parade always makes me nostalgic and a bit melancholy. I admit it – I have reached life’s tipping point where you miss the good ol’ days more than you anticipate the future.

The parade itself, and all the hoopla surrounding it, gives me a chance to do both – to remember way back when, but also appreciate what is still to come for our town (which will never, at least in spirit, be a “city”).

For me, the parade and celebration will always be tied to another unique Petaluma tradition, the Petaluma Leghorns semipro football team.

The Leghorns – and I mean the football variety, not today’s baseball team – were legendary, dominating the Petaluma sports scene from 1946 until finally yielding to the allure of televised sports in 1958. The team consisted of mostly former high school and college players and many World War II veterans who just wanted to continue playing the game.

Spearheaded by team founders Gene Benedetti, Bob Acorne and Herm Jensen, the Leghorns fashioned a team that not only dominated other local semipro teams, but became the community’s No. 1 sporting attraction.

In four years under Benedetti’s coaching, the Leghorns compiled a record of 40-6-2, and a following that stretched well beyond’s Petaluma’s borders.

In 1966, Lee Torliatt, who covered the Leghorns for the Argus-Courier and Press Democrat, wrote of the fans’ enthusiasm: “The fans were an important part of Leghorn success. They cheered for almost any reason. Team physician Clement Stimson was cheered when he trotted onto the field to assist a fallen player. Justice of the Peace Rollan (Rollie) Webb, who doubled as yardstick man, was cheered as he moved the marker after each Leghorn gain.”

The Egg Bowl was around long before Casa Grande High School was even an idea. It was invented by Leghorn tackle Butch Burtner in 1949 as a charity game to end each Leghorn season. The game was preceded by a parade with the Egg Bowl Queen and her court.

Through the years, the Leghorn legend grew, and its players became hometown heroes – Benedetti, Acorne (the team general manager), Bill Spaletta, Dante Ridolfi, Mario Ghilotti and perhaps the greatest Leghorn of them all, quarterback Fred “The Fox” Klemenok, Petaluma’s version of Joe Montana before there was a Joe Montana.

After Benedetti stepped down from coaching, Don Ramatici took over and kept the legend growing.

Television and the changing times finally caught up with the Leghorns in 1958 as fans transferred their allegiance to professional teams they could see from the comfort of their own living rooms.

I came to town almost 20 years after the Hefty Lady sang for the Leghorns, but I was fortunate to attend a couple of their reunions, where I was regaled with stories, memories and even a few songs of yesteryear.

The string that binds me, the Leghorns, and the Butter and Egg parade goes back about a decade. Time dulls my memory – just as it does the memories of those who saw and worshiped the Leghorns – so I’m not exactly sure what the year was.

When vacations, absences and illnesses depleted the Argus-Courier lineup, I was drafted by then-publisher John Burns to come up with an entry for the Argus in the upcoming parade. The idea was to round up a few Leghorns and put them into a vintage convertible to wave at the crowd.

Sounds simple. But did you ever try to round up a Leghorn? After 30-plus years, many had passed on to better things, and many had left the area. I finally managed to track down four.

Three agreed to join the parade. The problem was that on parade day, all four showed up. Their ride was a vintage Thunderbird that comfortably seated three plus a driver. Four football players was a call for Bill Soberanes to summon up Harry Houdini.

Somehow, someway we made it work, and when I showed up for work Monday morning, I was amazed to find a trophy on my desk. I’m not sure for what category. It should have been for grit and sportsmanship shown by those four gutsy Leghorns.

After the parade, I drove each of the players to their respective homes – all but one, that is, who, in true Leghorn fashion, insisted on being dropped off at Volpi’s.

Contact John Jackson at johnie.jackson@arguscourier.com.