MVP DAVE PANFILL DIES
(1946- 2024)

The year 2024 started out as a good one for our elderly NSAAers until the fourth quarter rolled around when it quickly turned into a sonofabitch, as both Ronnie and Dave died.

Dave got hit with a flesh eating bacteria, Necrotizing Fasciitis, back in November of 2020 which pretty much had him hospitalized for the bulk of 2021. This infection has to be one of the gnarliest things that can ever happen to a person, as Dave required multiple surgeries on his left leg and groin area, and time on ventilators and dialysis machines. And to this day it’s a mystery how he caught it. He died on December 22nd in the Simi hospital.

On a much happier note, let’s flash back to Dave’s life prior to November 2020.

1979: Commish and Don Smiley present Dave with his 7th MVP trophy.


THE EARLY YEARS

I first met Dave in late 1954 when my military dad moved my mom, me, Boomer and sister Jill back to California from Washington DC after retiring from the Navy. The house he bought was at Geneva and Dryden in Glendale, just one block from the Panfill estate of Sam, Irene, Marie, Marsha and Dave.

Dave, who was 8 at the time, was already known in the neighborhood as the Dennis the Menace of Rossmoyne. To say he was an obstreperous young lad is like calling Rodan a type of butterfly. Hence their Cedar St house became a Mecca for all us neighborhood hooligans.

1983: Dave bags his 9th MVP award in his own garage.
He would go on to win 4 more.


The list of epic capers he pulled off number in the dozens, but in the interest of space, I can recount 6 of the most egregious. (1) A melee inside the house where cottage cheese and eggs were flung. (2) The partial burning down of the garage while messing with cigarettes and lighters. (3) A water fight- pitting us kids inside the house, dumping trash cans of water down onto the invaders vs. Marie’s boyfriend and buddies spraying garden hoses into the house. (This was kicked off when Dave put a running hose into the window of the guys’ cherried-out 47 Chevy.) (4) Dave dug a massive “elephant trap” in Donny Corsini's backyard that he covered with cardboard and leaves which, the next day, snagged Donny's grandmother. (5) The grab-ass ball fight in the living room with Ron Humiston which smashed Irene’s Italian glass coffee table. And (6) hosing down their sloping front lawn, converting it into the neighborhood Slip-n-Slide, thereby killing all of the Panfill’s grass.

DP attained the Gold Standard for sluggers when he popped one into the tennis courts at Wilson one night.


As a result of all this Dave was grounded for 5 years by his mother on at least 20 occasions, then commuted by his dad usually within an hour. One time, in an apparent attempt to avoid capture by Irene, he showed up at my startled mother’s back door blurting out, “Hide me”.

THE TEEN YEARS

Dave seemed most interested in sports and the trades at Glendale High. He was on the JV football team as a running back, along with my brother Boomer. Boomer always told the story that Dave gained more yards than Dennis Keller did on the varsity but didn’t get called up because none of his runs were the “planned play”. That figures because Dave always did stuff his own way.

He was also a big shop class guy, metal, wood, drafting, etc. It was once claimed that he was the only kid in the history of GHS to have his locker in the Shop building. He graduated Glendale High in 1963, being one of the youngest kids in his class.

DP was only 2 years out of HS at the tender age of 19 when he married Darlene Bamford at the Little Chappel of Roses in Pasadena in July of 65. They rented a place for about 4 years in Glendale before buying the house on Peoria in Sun Valley, a place where they would live for 40 plus years while raising 4 kids: Tiffany, Tim, Todd and Courtney. A foursome who chalked up 1,151 NSAA evenings in their own right.

AWAITING OFFICIAL GUEST LIST
email: tiffanyhbaxter@yahoo.com.


Right column please ---->

ON THE JOB

Dave worked as a painter for a while and for other contractors until eventually going into business for himself, primarily as an electrician, while handling other stuff too.

At the same time, Dave got into gambling in a big way. He loved horse racing, the lotto, scratchers, Vegas games, and poker. And he was a high roller too. He once hit the California Fantasy Five for $60 grand, and had a long string of slot machine scores on frequent trips with Dar up to Sam’s Town in Vegas. And, oh dear, to tally up all the Trifectas he cashed at Turf Paradise would take a CPA to task. Furthermore, in all the junket Saturday night poker games I witnessed, it was a rare Sunday morning that found him in the red.

Tim A, Bruce and Dave were tough customers in the Room 24 poker game.


Another trait he had was that of an “aggressive” driver. He did not earn the knick-name Mr Toad for nothing. He had a big step van that could hold a bunch of NSAAers on trips to Del Mar, TJ or just Dodger stadium but it had no seats in back, let alone belts. One time he drove the gang out of a jam- packed Chavez ravine on the wrong side of the road, after which Gerard, our Harvard trained lawyer, got out and kissed the ground.

On another occasion, Dave drove a bunch of us home from a bush track in Prescott AZ in a rent-a-car traveling at about 90 MPH on a 2 lane, dessert blacktop. When we got to Glendale, Boomer got out and muttered two words, “Never again.” But Dave countered with, “Eh, If your brother had been driving we’d be in Indio right now.” Touché

"Hmmm, ninth inning, big crowd. I gotta figure a good way to get everybody outta here."


THE DEL MAR JUNKET

Dave really was the maestro of the 36 Del Mar junkets. From 1974 thru 2015, he was the only guy never to miss one. He handled all the rooms with Manager Mike for all the on-again-off again goons who wanted to go to the beach. In 1992 it was 36 guys. He led the golf outings and was at the track probably more than anyone. He loved the BBQs and reveled in the whole scene much like Ronnie Combs did. One year he brought cherry bombs and rockets down to set off on the beach, but that’s a whole nuther story.

Dave took over the DMJ room carosel from Jimmy Bond in 1982.


THE BUSH TRACK JUNKETS

Never as popular as the DMJs, Dave made 16 of the 33 BTJs to a bunch of different venues. He was always happy when the target race track had a casino near by to where he could go during the evening hours. He was never one to sit around and watch TV in the motel when he could find some live action down the road.

TWO THOUGHTS

Dave had a thoughtful side to him that many guys may not have been aware of. In June of 1965 Uncle Sam found a need for my military participation and I was sent to basic training at Fort Ord in Monterey. It was just as unpleasant as I had imagined it would be and I hated every minute of it. But one of the few highlights was a daily Mail Call where you could get stuff from home. But I had no girlfriend to write me at the time and my own mother didn’t seem too interested in it either. One day, however, a big manila envelope showed up. When I ripped it open I found a week old Racing Form that Dave had picked up at Santa Anita one day and mailed to me. I coveted that thing. Had it hidden in my duffel bag for 4 months and dragged it out every evening for the run to the latrine. I read it from cover to cover and was always extremely grateful to Dave for sending it.

And finally, I find it absolutely amazing that the first guy I, Billy D and Boomer ever recruited to play NSAA was Dave. This means that in 60 years (1954-2014) and 300 odd players later, we NEVER found a more talented athlete. Be it softball, football, or wacky adventures he was always our Most Valuable Player.


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