Charles Balentine Obituary, In Loving Memory Of Charles Balentine

Charles Balentine Obituary, Death – As someone who grew up in Arkansas and has covered college and professional athletics for the past 25 years, I have been priviledged to experience many of the Razorbacks’ individual highs and lows. However, I never witnessed a moment that stands out to me. Charles Balentine, a former Arkansas forward, is as near to the edge of Razorback history as a player can be without my memory of having seen him. Yet, upon hearing the news of his departure yesterday, I could vividly recall his most iconic moment as a Razorback.

Balentine was a member of Eddie Sutton’s final Arkansas teams. My only recollection of Sutton is a radio broadcast that mentioned Joe Kleine as my father and I prepared for a day of fishing in Belcoe Lake, just east of Dumas, for crappie and anything else that would strike a jig. My only other recollection is of my father saying something to his siblings about Sutton claiming he would have crawled to Kentucky and everyone agreeing that Frank Broyles chased him away. A few years later, when Ken Hatfield departed the football team for Clemson, the same thing was said about Broyles running off coaches in Southeast Arkansas, indicating that this perception was widespread.

However, history suggests that the disrespectful manner in which Arkansas fans regarded Hatfield likely contributed significantly to his departure, as did Clemson’s national championship and numerous 10-plus win seasons. Prior to around 1990, I had virtually no experience with Balentine. From the time they were married, my parents had a coffee table/foot rest that resembled every other piece of furniture from the late 1970s and early 1980s. It had enormous varnished wooden limbs at each end, ideal for removing teeth and brain cells from anyone who tripped while chasing the dog through the house.

My mind could only make out images of ancient farm carts with broken wagon wheels strewn about on the plush velvet-covered pillows. There was a heavy plank of varnished 2x4s in the middle, held together by a couple of pieces of timber on the bottom. It was where the coasters were kept because you’d rather confront a pit of snakes than set a drink directly on any of the furniture in my mother’s living room, as well as an ashtray made of brownish-gold glass even though neither of my parents smoked.