Tag: ashland-tomcats

Tyler Rowland not just right choice but the only choice as Ashland Tomcats’ new radio ‘Voice’

Tyler Rowland did such a superb job calling Ashland Tomcat sports on the radio late last fall and throughout the spring that Thursday’s announcement naming him the new “Voice of the Tomcats” came as no surprise.

Kindred Communications, which has carried Tomcat sports broadcasts for several years, announced in a press release that it would continue its partnership with Ashland athletics. Later in the release came the news that Rowland had been named the new “Voice of the Tomcats,” succeeding the late, great Dicky Martin.

From a news perspective, Kindred Communications may have buried the lead.

Rowland is a bona fide broadcasting talent on the rise. Last basketball season, he inherited one of the toughest assignments in the 16th Region when he stepped behind the microphone following the tragic passing of Martin, a broadcasting icon whose voice became synonymous with Ashland athletics.

Who could replace Dicky Martin? The truth is, nobody.

Tyler Rowland is now the “official” new Voice of the Ashland Tomcats.

But if there was one obvious choice, it was Rowland.

He brings the same meticulous preparation and genuine passion that made Martin respected throughout Kentucky. While no one could duplicate Martin’s unique style, Rowland has developed a voice and approach of his own that Tomcat fans quickly embraced.

When the opportunity came, Rowland didn’t just seize it—he sprinted with it.

A 2006 Ashland graduate, Rowland played football under Leon Hart. He considered Martin both a mentor and a friend. He credits Martin for teaching him the craft of broadcasting and eagerly absorbed every lesson.

Rowland began working alongside Martin in 2020, assisting with the radio broadcast of Ashland’s 35-14 victory over Elizabethtown in the Class 3A state championship game in Lexington.

“Dicky is a dear, treasured friend,” Rowland said. “Dicky guided me in so many ways and I think is right up there with Cawood Ledford and Marty Brennaman.”

Determined to sharpen his skills, Rowland sought broadcasting opportunities wherever he could find them, including calling football and basketball games for West Virginia State during the 2024-25 season. He’s also done summer league basketball games for the past few years, always looking to refine those God-given broadcasting skills.

His love for sports—and for the Tomcats—dates back to his elementary school days at Oakview. He recalls his sixth-grade year as a turning point when he played organized basketball for Steve Reliford.

“My passion for sports stems because of that year and how much I developed socially and what I learned from it,” he said. “Steve believed in me at a time I didn’t come close to believing in myself.”

Later, as a freshman, classmate Joe Smith encouraged him to try football.

“So I did,” he said. “Played for Leon Hart for his first three seasons and enjoyed that.”

As a sixth-grader, Rowland could never have imagined that one day he would occupy the play-by-play seat for Ashland Tomcat football and basketball. He probably didn’t even realize the Tomcats were on the radio.

Today, he has become the permanent voice of one of Kentucky’s proudest athletic traditions.

And the best part? He’s only going to get better.

Rowland is a consummate professional. Give him a listen. In an era when many Ashland games are available on television through My Town TV—a service many fans appreciate—it’s easy to overlook the experience of listening on the radio. But if you tune in, you’ll quickly discover that Rowland has a gift for painting vivid word pictures of the action, occasionally mixed with the kind of colorful editorial observations that made Dicky Martin so memorable.

As Ashland athletic director Jim Conway so accurately said in the release, “the future sounds great.”

Kindred’s announcement confirmed that Tomcat games will once again air on 97.9 FM this season. But the biggest news wasn’t the frequency.

It was that Tyler Rowland is now the permanent Voice of the Tomcats.

He wasn’t handed the job.

He earned it.

Rannie Cooper was much more than the Bluegrass boss

To most people in Ashland, Rannie Cooper was the man behind the legendary Bluegrass Grill, the hometown restaurant where great food and great memories were served side by side.

But to generations of boys growing up in Ashland, he was simply Coach Cooper.

He spent years coaching Little League baseball and elementary basketball, pouring his heart into young athletes. He taught them fundamentals, expected them to compete, and celebrated their victories with Bluegrass milkshakes. For a lot of kids, those milkshakes tasted even sweeter after a win.

He was also one of the Ashland Tomcats’ biggest supporters. Rannie often made sure players had meal tickets after big games—maybe before that was officially allowed. His son, Randy, was a dynamic receiver for the Tomcats, and few things made Rannie prouder than seeing him cross the goal line at Putnam Stadium.

Rannie Cooper in a 2006 photo from The Daily Independent photographer John Flavell as he was preparing to close the famous Bluegrass Grill in Ashland. Cooper died early Friday, June 19,2026

The relationships didn’t end when the seasons did. Rannie stayed connected with many of the boys he coached as they grew into high school athletes and adults. They remembered not only what he taught them about sports, but how he treated them.

Scott Walter, who played for Cooper’s Tigers in Ashland American Little League, summed him up perfectly in a Facebook tribute Saturday.

“He loved to win as much as anyone, and he certainly helped prepare us to compete by instructing us and teaching us the fundamentals of the game,” Walter wrote.

Rannie passed away Friday morning. With his passing, Ashland lost not only a legendary businessman but also a mentor whose influence reached far beyond a ball field.

As a businessman, Rannie did something remarkable. He didn’t just survive the fast-food explosion of the 1960s and 1970s — he thrived through it.

The Bluegrass Grill remained the place to eat in Ashland. At lunchtime, regulars packed the booths. After dark, teenagers filled the parking lot. Countless first dates began there. More than a few marriage proposals happened there. It was one of those rare places where good food became part of life’s biggest moments.

When Rannie closed the restaurant in 2006, it wasn’t because business had slowed. Quite the opposite.

After nearly 50 years of working 12- to 14-hour days, the 65-year-old was simply ready to retire. Customers were still lining up for Flying Saucers, Twinburgers, chili, spaghetti, onion rings, fresh pies and all the other favorites that made the Bluegrass famous throughout the Tri-State.

For many of us, the Bluegrass was also the headquarters of cruising culture. We’d circle through the restaurant, head down Winchester Avenue, then turn around and do it all over again. Long before social media, that’s where you saw your friends on a Friday or Saturday night.

Rannie had earned every bit of that success.

He started at the Bluegrass in 1956 as a 15-year-old carhop. After graduating from Ashland High School in 1959, he went to work there full time. In 1971, he purchased the restaurant from Michael Riggal, grandson of founders Arch and Frances Riggal, who opened the Bluegrass in 1946.

Along with the business came its treasured recipes. Rannie often said he promised the Riggal family those recipes would remain with him until his death. His son, Randy, and daughter, Annette Ryan, who both worked in the restaurant for years, never made that same promise.

This menu stand from the Bluegrass could just make your mouth water. Rannie Cooper, who operated the Bluegrass from 1971 to its closing in 2006, died on Friday, June 19, 2026.

Even today, it’s common to see people on social media reminiscing about the Bluegrass and wishing they could have one more meal there. Everyone had a favorite.

Mine was a Twinburger with onion rings and a slice of strawberry pie.

My connection to the Bluegrass started before I was born. My father worked there as a carhop in the late 1940s and often brought home a box of hot dogs for him and my mother to enjoy after work. Maybe that’s why the Bluegrass always felt like home to me.

I came to know Rannie well during my years at the newspaper. He was always straightforward, deeply rooted in his faith, and never shy about sharing an opinion —especially when it came to the Ashland Tomcats. It didn’t matter whether it was football, basketball or baseball. He cared about those teams because he cared about the young people wearing the uniforms.

Ashland has been blessed through the years with men who invested their time in coaching boys. Rannie Cooper was one of the very best.

The Bluegrass Grill remains one of those places that lives on in conversations, family stories and hometown nostalgia.

And Coach Cooper lives on in the countless boys who became better athletes — and better men — because he took the time to coach them.

My deepest condolences go to the Cooper family, especially to Charlene, his wife of 67 years.

FLASHBACK: Love and devotion

This was written back in 2014 following the death of Herb Conley’s wife, Janice. It is a tribute to her but also to every coach’s wife. They go through more than you think. Herb called Janice his “inspiration” and the thought of them reuniting made the sting of his death easier to bear.

Here is the column:

Nobody ever pushed around Herb Conley. Nobody ever dared.

He was tough as nails. As a kid growing up. As a blossoming athlete. As a coach. As a father. Always, tough as nails.

He was a Beast, and this Beast had a Beauty.

Her name was Janice.

Janice was the love of his life, the one person who could tame this Tough Guy who would become a football coaching legend in his hometown.

She could melt him with the batting of her eyes.

She had him at hello and, boy, was he ever glad she did.

Whenever things were tough, and they weren’t always easy for Herb Conley, he had Janice.

Always there to lift him up.

Always there to tell him how proud she was of him.

Always there to keep him in line.

Whenever Herb Conley needed a boost, she was there for him. She could pick up his spirit like he picked up weights. Effortlessly.

They lived a storybook life, these high school sweethearts did. That’s because anything they did together, they did well. They were soulmates who raised three boys in their hometown. Grew old together, yet still loved each other like school kids.

She had one of the toughest jobs on earth, that of being the wife of a high school football coach, in a town that expected a lot from its team. Every week. Every game. Every minute.

We’re with you win or tie, they would say.

Conley was no newcomer when he became Ashland’s head coach in 1968. He was a former star player for the Tomcats, a member of their last undefeated team in 1958, and had been an assistant the prior two years under Jake Hallum. The ’67 Tomcats won a state championship and Herbie was a big reason why.

But when you step into that head coaching position, the pressure intensifies. Ask anyone who has coached here where your fate is determined every Friday night.

When the Tomcats weren’t winning like the fans thought they should be winning, the fingers started pointing and they were pointing in Herb’s direction in 1970.

Legend or not, they were ready to run him out of town.

Ashland had lost to Russell for the first time in school history and angry fans trashed Conley’s yard and home with garbage.

“Herb wasn’t always the legend he is now,” said longtime friend Bill Tom Ross. “Early in a coach’s career, you have difficulties. I had the same thing at Boyd County (his first head coaching assignment).

“Imagine being Herb Conley’s wife? The toughness, the mental toughness, raising three sons. That house was overflowing with testosterone.”

But Ross remembers Janice as being upbeat in the face of adversity. She was that to the end.

“I remember back in those days she was never down, never depressed,” said Ross, who credits his wife Brenda with his coaching success.

The life of the high school coach’s wife is never easy. The divorce rate is high. The criticism you hear from fans can be cruel.

“Not only in the stands but, when you’re coaching at a high-profile place like Ashland, you can’t go to the grocery store or the bank without hearing something,” Ross said. “Somebody is always talking about the game.”

But the wife must bite her tongue, smile and take it. They must be there for their husband and their family. They better be strong.

“I’m not sure in that household that Janice wasn’t the toughest one of the bunch,” Ross said.

Back in 1970, when things were tough, a letter came to the Conley’s house. Inside it had a cartoon drawn of a man with a noose around his neck with another man leading him out of town.

Janice never showed it to Herb, but he found it rummaging through a drawer a couple of years later.

“What’s this?” he asked her.

 “Oh, where do you find that?” she said. “I thought I threw that away. It was nothing.”

She told Herb it had come a few years ago, but she didn’t want to bother him with it. Truth is, Janice was protecting her man from one more dart being thrown in his direction.

The rest of the story went well for Herb Conley after he survived that 1970 season. The Tomcats took off on a six-year run that produced 56 victories, a state runner-up finish in 1972 and the 1975 state at-large championship.

Guess who was there cheering him all the way?

She loved her Tomcats. Always. Even in her last days of a losing battle with cancer, when she was mostly unresponsive, when Herb was wearing a Tomcat shirt she would look down at it and then up to his face. Down again and up to his face.

It’s been a difficult 19 months for the Conleys, who were set to enjoy a long retirement together with long walks on the beach. They loved their stretch of paradise on Myrtle Beach.

They enjoyed life together, right to the end. It was a never-ending love story like you wouldn’t believe.

Coaches’ wives are given something special inside. They are patient and thick-skinned. They know the importance of supporting their man through the good times and bad.

Janice Conley was like that for Herb.

“They were the ultimate team,” said Ross. “He didn’t lose her. He knows exactly where she is. He’s got that peace that passes all understanding.”

And he’ll never stop loving her.

High-scoring George Carroll and the first AIT 70 years ago

Ashland’s first game in the Ashland Invitational Tournament – originally called the Greenbo Lake Invitational – took place on Dec. 27,1955 at the Ashland Armory against Raceland.

George Carroll poured in 24 points, and it was only a sign of things to come for the little guard with the dead-eye shooting touch. The Tomcats defeated Raceland 66-47 in the opening game.

Carroll scored 35 as Ashland defeated Holy Family 79-66 in the semifinals and then the Tomcats upended Flat Gap and the great Charlie Osborne, 72-66, in the first championship with Carroll scoring 39.

That’s 98 points in three games, a nearly 33 points per game average, from the senior guard.

Here are the scores from the first tournament:

Opening round

Olive Hill 77, Clark County 61

Ashland 66, Raceland 47

Flat Gap 96, Montgomery County 78

Holy Family 88, Boyd County 67

Semifinals

Flat Gap 62, Olive Hill 56

Ashland 79, Holy Family 66

Championship

Ashland 72, Flat Gap 66

It was a star-studded tournament that came about because of ADI sports editor John McGill. Here is how some of the postseason honors for players in the AIT that first season.

Kenny Meyer of Montgomery County, All-State second team.

Charlie Osborne of Flat Gap, All-State second team.

George Carroll of Ashland, All-State third team.

J.D. Kiser of Olive Hill, All-State third team.

Bill Emmett of Ashland, Buddy Banks of Raceland and Bert Greene of Olive Hill were All State Honorable Mention.

The tournament was called the Ashland Holiday Tournament the second year before becoming the Ashland Invitational Tournament in the third year.

The Ashland Armory was good for Carroll later when he put 52 points on Carr Creek in a game thar preceded the Harlem Globetrotters putting on a show for a packed house of 1,500.

The Tomcats won the game 98-90 in an old-fashioned shootout. It featured Carr and Bobby Ray Shepherd from Kingdom Come. He transferred to Carr Creek and was probably the key to them winning the 1956 state championship a month after playing Ashland. Shepherd was a strong center known for his natural strength, like lifting 100-pound sacks of corn with ease.

His move in 1954-55 from Kingdom Come’s Wildcats to Carr Creek was likely a recruiting issue but due to economic reasons, given his coal-miner family. But he was a big reason the Indians won the crown that March

Two other important people crammed their way into the Armory to watch – Kentucky coaches Adolph Rupp and Harry Lancaster who came to scout Shepherd and got an eyeful from Carroll, too.

The game was played there because it was a preliminary game to the Harlem Globetrotters and basketball magician Meadowlark Lemon. The Globetrotters came out to watch the Ashland-Carr Creek game when they heard the fans stomping and cheering.

What everybody saw was the amazing Carroll scoring what was then a Tomcat record 52 points. He made shots from every conceivable angle as the Tomcats knocked off sixth-ranked Carr Creek. The two-team total of 188 was also an Ashland High School record at the time.

Carroll’s 52-point outburst stood as the Ashland record until Marty Thomas broke it in 1993 with 54 points in the 121-33 win over Jellico, Tenn., that also represents the most points scored by a Tomcat team. Carroll’s total pushed him past Bill Gray’s 48 points in the district win over Wurtland in 1954.

It was an age of basketball when the object was more to outscore the opponent than stop them. Most teams stayed back in 2-3 zone defenses and tried to outrun the opponent in racehorse-style games.

A big reason for that was the coming of age of the jump shot. It had been around just long enough for teams to have players almost perfect it. Ashland had its share of shooters during that time — Earl “Brother” Adkins, Gray and Carroll among them. The fans were eating it up.

Holy Family had Fred Simpson and later his brother, Tim, putting in points from deep outside.

Some of Carroll’s teammates included Don Church, Don Wellman, Dale Griffith, Howard Humphreys and Bill Emmett. Church was a rebounder supreme for the Tomcats who never minded feeding it back out to Carroll, who could stop on a dime from behind the circle and pop them in.

The 5-foot-10 Carroll scored in double figures every game in the 1955-56 season and finished with a 24.3 scoring average. Ashland finished 20-9 after losing to Mt. Sterling in the regional semifinals.

Remember, of course, this was all 30 years before the 3-point line came into being. Carroll and Gray were both bombers from well behind what is now the 3-point arc.

The Globetrotters were so entertained by the Ashland-Carr Creek game that when a reporter came up to talk to them, Meadowlark Lemon told them they needed to talk to those boys. “I’ve never seen a game anything like this,” he said. “These boys are the stars tonight.”

The Globetrotters came out and put on a show for the 1,500 who had jammed their way into the armory. But they couldn’t outscore Ashland or Carr Creek, recording a 74-69 win over the Honolulu Surfriders in a game marked more by showmanship than anything else. The newspaper report said the fans especially howled when the Trotters warmed up with the invisible ball routine.