It was during this time that Red West and Jimmy George got to talking about their backgrounds and found out that they were not only from the same area in the south but had played against one another in the Jr. College Rose Bowl in Pasadena in 1955. Naturally this taste of nostalgia only served to whet the appetite of these two warriors and before long Bob and the rest of The Guys set up a Saturday morning "touch" football game.

It had always been my understanding that touch football is a game that substitutes the placing of a hand or hands on the party carrying the ball in place of tackling that man; thus lessening the chance of injuries. But, what the hell do I know! I'm from Mahoningtown. I didn't know there was a third kind of football and that was the kind we played.

The third kind of football, for those misinformed individuals like myself, is a game played by the same rules as regular sandlot football but with different rules for stopping the ball carrier. According to Robert Conrad, our fearless leader, the primary idea was to "touch" the ball carrier but it was okay to fall accidentally with your arms around the ball carrier's legs, push, trip or do whatever else you can get away with. It's a helluva game and judging from the weekly casualty list, it's possible that tackle football would have been much safer.

We also had a few men from the crew and along with our lovable boss, Lenny Katzman, we had our nemesis, Mike Moder. While the goal of the game was to score touchdowns and win, trying to put Mike down for the count became our goal; but the s.o.b. was just too good an athlete. Then there were those who felt they could take advantage of the moment and put the "movie star" down for the count but Bob learned the dirty tricks of football long before he became a "movie star."

Lee Majors played a few times and ended up with a broken nose. It didn't take much for the ready, willing and able Lenny Katzman to see that he had gotten in over his head, but I think his biggest problem was watching the star of his show in the midst of a game that would have made the Los Angeles Rams proud. I doubt that his nervous system could handle too much of this and he soon threw up his hands and walked away.

Red was kind of glad to see him go. On one occasion, Red found himself in the position of putting a block on Lenny and while locked in a stand-still, Red found himself looking into Lenny's eyes and it dawned on him that he was holding the boss back. There was that brief moment when he wasn't sure whether or not to let him go. Now he wouldn't have to worry about it.

The Guys were sitting around the set one day discussing our Saturday morning "war games" and how the bosses felt about them when Bob remembered, "We don't have a boss!" The show had been shooting "The Night of the Ready-Made Corpse" several months earlier when Michael Garrison, creator and Executive Producer of THE WILD WILD WEST took a bad fall down the marble stairs in his home and died from the resulting injury. Garrison's will was being probated and the executor was "some attorney in downtown Los Angeles."

"We don't have a boss," Bob said thoughtfully.

"What are you talking about?", someone asked.

"Michael Garrison owned the show and he died. Until his will is settled, some attorney in downtown Los Angeles is our boss.", Bob reasoned. Bob thought about that for a moment.

"Let's have some fun."

We followed him to the phone and he called the production office to ask for the name of the attorney handling Garrison's probate. He then called information for the number and dialed the attorney.

I'm sure there are celebrities in Hollywood who have been injected with an overdose of narcissism but I want to assure you that Robert Conrad wasn't on a vanity trip when he called the attorney's office. The poor secretary who answered the phone must have thought she had some kind of nut case on the line. Then again, maybe she had been reading too many movie magazines and believed Bob's opening line.

"Hello. My name is Robert Conrad. I'm the star of THE WILD WILD WEST television show and I'm not happy!" The statement was fast, almost one continuous line and without emotion.

None of us knew exactly what he had in mind when he called and his opening line even caught us off-guard. I'm sure if any of us had been in the process of eating something, we'd have choked on the food as we stifled our laughter. Since we couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, we could only imagine what the baffled secretary on the other end of the phone was thinking as Bob repeated his line.

"My name is Robert Conrad. I'm the star of THE WILD WILD WEST television show and I'm not happy!"

This must have totally confused the secretary because Bob covered the mouthpiece to inform us she was calling her boss. He was trying to muffle his own laughter as he told us he didn't know what he was going to tell the attorney when he answered.

"Hello. Yes! My name is Robert Conrad and I'm the star of The Wild Wild West television show and I'm not happy." He said into the mouthpiece.

It soon became clear that Bob was talking to the attorney in charge of the probate and, as an attorney he may have been familiar with probates but, I'm sure he was caught in a very unfamiliar situation now. From what we could gather from our side of the conversation, he was asking Bob what he was supposed to do about the situation.

"Well," Bob said thinking of something to say, "as the 'boss,' you're supposed to keep the star of the show happy."

Now the shoe was on the other foot. Here was Robert Conrad's 'boss' asking what he needed to do to make his unhappy star happy and Bob didn't know what the hell to ask for. As I've tried to point out, Bob was NOT some egotistical, insecure actor who needed his ego stroked and now that he was being put into the position to act like one, he didn't know how.

Bob may have been caught short about something ridiculous to 'I want" but it took just a second or two for Bob to realize he may really be on to something. Hell, everybody knows movie stars are always complaining about their dressing room, so why not Bob.

"I don't like my dressing room," he pouted.

It was obvious Bob couldn't believe the Executor's reaction to his statement because his face expressed disbelief and he began reaching for something to say.

"Well... I think I should have a bar so I can serve my friends drinks when they stop by." More thinking. "And my carpeting is pathetic."

And so the conversation went. Little did Bob or any of the rest of us realize that every word Bob spoke was being taken very seriously. The following morning there was a van parked in front of the dressing rooms and Bob's dressing room, which had been moved upstairs for the new season, was being completely revamped.

A great man once said, "Never play an unfamiliar game in another man's house, under his rules, if you expect to win." That attorney was playing an unfamiliar game in Bob's house and under Bob's rules. He should have gotten some legal advice. Bob then made what would be the first phone call to thank him.

Naturally Bob called to thank him, but since he was on the phone, he also mentioned how he had formed a touch football team to "advertise" the show, but it was difficult without proper jerseys. Bob's new "boss" agreed so Bob had Jack Muhs make each member of the team a beautiful bright yellow, short-sleeved jersey and a few dozen more for some friends who weren't members of the team. Jack also had our name and number stitched on the back, with THE WILD WILD WEST in beautiful blue letters on the front.

Bob called to thank our benefactor and, since he was on the phone, he mentioned a special club he formed called "The Heart of the Lion" club. It would make Bob very happy if he could get the "members" of the club some nice jackets. Needless to say, Jack Muhs had jackets made with the name of the show on the back and our own name beneath the head of a lion holding a bleeding heart in his mouth. Bob called to thank our benefactor. I don't remember how long it took this charade to catch up with Bob but we sure had fun while it lasted.