THE REBOUND PODCAST - TROOPER EDITION

Bobby Lesley stands as one of the defining figures in El Paso sports history. Over 27 years at Eastwood High School, he built a program rooted in toughness, accountability, and precision — values shaped by his own experience playing under Don Haskins at Texas Western. His philosophy was uncompromising: fundamentals first, effort non‑negotiable, and team identity anchored in defense and discipline.

His legacy reached its peak in 1976, when he led the Troopers to the UIL State Championship — the last boys’ basketball state title won by an El Paso school. That run cemented Eastwood as a statewide force and established Lesley as a coach who could elevate local talent to elite levels. His teams were known for conditioning, mental toughness, and flawless execution, all reflections of his belief that preparation was the ultimate advantage.

Beyond wins, Lesley shaped people. Former players describe him as demanding but fair, a coach who pushed them to grow on and off the court. His influence extended into classrooms, careers, and families, creating a legacy built on character as much as competition. Eastwood’s gym now bears his name — a permanent marker of the culture he created.

Today, Bobby Lesley is remembered not just as a championship coach, but as the architect of Eastwood basketball’s identity. His standards, his discipline, and his belief in the power of preparation continue to define the program and its connection to the community.

Jerry Krampen & Darold Molix — The Two Pillars Who Held the 1976 Troopers Together

Some teams win because they have stars.

The 1976 Eastwood Troopers won because they had pillars — players whose presence, toughness, and daily standard formed the spine of a championship run that still stands alone in El Paso history.

Two of those pillars were Darold Molix and Jerry Krampen, different in style but identical in purpose. One controlled the interior. One controlled the culture.

Together, they gave Eastwood the balance, grit, and internal accountability that championship teams are built on.

Darold Molix — The Interior Force Who Changed the Geometry of the Game

At 6’7”,  Darold Molix didn’t just play in the paint — he defined it. Opponents had to change their game plan the moment he stepped on the floor. Shots altered. Drives abandoned. Rebounds contested with a level of physicality that only he could sustain.

But height was the least interesting thing about him.

Molix played with a quiet, punishing discipline. He absorbed contact, double‑teams, and the emotional weight of being the anchor of a championship defense. He didn’t need the ball to dominate. He dominated by removing oxygen from the other team’s offense.

His signature moment came in the regional tournament — a 20‑point, pain‑soaked performance that Coach Lesley later described as “the kind of game that separates players from champions.”

It wasn’t flashy. It was foundational. It was the kind of game that tells a team, We’re not going home.

Molix gave Eastwood something every great team needs:

a center of gravity.

He was the Troopers’ anchor — the immovable presence that allowed everyone else to play freer, faster, and with absolute confidence that the paint belonged to them.

Jerry Krampen — The Standard‑Bearer Who Made Every Day Harder Than Game Day

If Molix was the anchor, Jerry Krampen was the conscience.

He wasn’t the loudest voice in the gym, but he was the one everyone watched.

Krampen practiced with a level of intensity that forced the team to rise with him. Every drill mattered. Every defensive rotation mattered. Every loose ball was a test of who wanted it more.

He was the teammate who made the team better simply by refusing to let the standard slip.

Krampen embodied the culture Coach Lesley demanded:

disciplined, reliable, mentally sharp, and relentlessly competitive.

He didn’t chase headlines. He chased habits. And those habits became the backbone of the 1976 Troopers’ identity.

Players like Krampen don’t always show up in the box score.

They show up in the way a team plays — connected, tough, unselfish, and accountable.

He was the Troopers’ internal engine, the player who ensured that when the lights came on, Eastwood was already prepared to outwork whoever stood in front of them.

Why Their Legacy Endures

Fifty years later, the story of the 1976 Troopers is often told through the lens of the championship — the last boys’ basketball state title in El Paso history. But the deeper truth is this:

Championships are built on players like Molix and Krampen.

One controlled the paint.

One controlled the standard.

Together, they gave Eastwood the toughness, identity, and internal discipline that championship teams are made of.

They weren’t the flashiest.

They weren’t the loudest.

They were the ones you win with.

And that’s why their names still matter.

Dean LaFever was one of the quiet anchors of the 1976 Eastwood Troopers — a steady, disciplined guard/forward whose presence helped shape the internal toughness of the only boys’ basketball state champions in El Paso history. He was the consummate teammate.

He didn’t chase headlines. He showed up every day, competed with purpose, and elevated the standard of the gym. In a program built on accountability and relentless practices, LaFever became part of the competitive backbone that pushed the roster toward its historic run.

His game was rooted in fundamentals — clean footwork, controlled tempo, defensive commitment, and an unselfish approach that fit perfectly within a discipline‑driven team. He passed better than he shot, and he played the kind of basketball coaches trust and teammates respect.

The 1976 Troopers were forged through internal battles as intense as the games themselves, and LaFever made those battles real. His consistency sharpened the starters. His defensive pressure raised the temperature. His reliability gave the team the depth and stability championship groups depend on.

When Eastwood beat Hobbs, survived overtime in the semifinals, and surged in the title game, they carried the unseen work of players like LaFever — the conditioning, the confidence, the collective toughness that defined their identity.

His legacy is the reminder that championships aren’t won by stars alone, but by players who commit to the grind and make the team better simply by refusing to take a day off. Dean LaFever represents that truth, and his impact lives in the culture, the brotherhood, and the enduring respect reserved for the players who do the work no one sees but everyone feels.

The Troopers didn’t just win the 1976 Texas State Basketball Championship — they owned it from start to finish. 

Their dominance wasn’t a surprise to anyone who had followed their climb. It was the natural result of discipline, chemistry, and a relentless competitive edge that shaped one of the most complete teams in El Paso high school basketball history.

Their performance was so commanding that three Troopers were named to the State All‑Tournament Team — a rare feat for any program, let alone one from West Texas. Few teams ever place multiple players on that list. Eastwood placed three. It was proof of their depth, balance, and the precision that carried them through the state bracket.

In this episode, The Rebound sits down with all three honorees — Gilbert Shepherd, Tim Crenshaw, and Jim Bowden — to revisit the defining moments of that historic run. Each brings a distinct lens on the championship journey, from the pressure of the playoff push to the bond that made the Troopers one of the most respected teams in Texas.

Bowden’s impact reached even further. His standout season earned him a place on the All‑State Team, placing him among the elite high school players in Texas. His recognition reflected not only his individual excellence, but the identity and standard of the entire Eastwood program.

Nearly fifty years later, the legacy of the 1976 Troopers still resonates. Their stories, their memories, and the culture they built continue to echo across generations. They didn’t just win a title — they set a standard that remains one of the defining chapters in Texas high school basketball.

Pippen brings the coach’s perspective — discipline, conditioning, mental toughness, and the championship standards that shaped the Troopers’ rise. Holmberg adds the trainer’s view, revealing the taped ankles, bruises, recovery routines, and the resilience that kept players sharp from week to week.

Together, they pull back the curtain on the moments that never made headlines but built a state‑champion program. Long practices. Quiet corrections. Accountability. Repetition. The unseen work that defined who the Troopers were long before game day.

This premiere sets the foundation for what’s ahead — a season dedicated to the architects of the Trooper legacy. The coaches, trainers, and support staff who forged champions through preparation, discipline, and unwavering expectations. Their stories are the blueprint, and this is only the beginning.