Oren Lyons is one of the most treasured icons in the history of the sport. The co-founder of the Iroquois Nationals, and a longtime advocate for the rights of indigenous people, the 90-year-old Lyons visited US Lacrosse and the National Lacrosse Hall of Fame earlier this year. Lyons spoke with longtime US Lacrosse staff members Steve Stenersen and Kira Muller about some of his experiences on the lacrosse field, which led to his own induction into the Hall of Fame, and the importance of the sport to Native Americans.

His First Lacrosse Idol

“I saw a picture of my father in a game at SU [Syracuse] somewhere around 1925 and he was in goal and he was wearing very light pads,” Lyons said. “I could see he was outside the crease and the ball was bouncing off his head, but he had a helmet on. No mask. Laurie Cox said he was the best goalie he had ever seen. I played very much the way he did. I was aggressive.

“In those days it was lamp light. There was no electricity. I remember him fixing his stick, fixing his pads. As kids we had our nose right into it, watching it. They didn’t make any children’s sticks. You had to look for cast-off sticks. Somebody cracked a stick, the kids were right on it. That’s how we got our sticks.

“Everybody played as soon as you walked around, as soon as you could get a stick. By the time you’re 8, 9-years old, you’re pretty familiar with the stick.

“When we were forming the team on Onondaga. I was just this kid and my father was too old to go to war. We were on the same team, that was fun. How often do you get to play on the same team. I learned from him. He was a goalkeeper, but he only gave me one advice – ‘Watch the ball. Don’t watch the man, watch the ball.’”

Serving the United States

“I was drafted, 1950, the Korean War and so forth. When I got drafted, I got shipped down to New York. It was kind of a holding place and they’d parse you out. It was there I met a couple of my buddies from Syracuse. We just buddied up. They have this old saying about sad sacks and that’s what we looked like. Shirts were too big and then this guy comes by, this solider. I couldn’t believe his shoes were sparkling, his shirt was form-fitted. Everything was tight. Holy smokes who was that guy. We looked at each other — Airborne, 82nd. If I’m going to be in the Army, I want to be like that and that’s why we went Airborne.

“At that time, the defense was an issue for the United States so they said the 82nd Airborne, we carried two days of ammo. We were a defensive team until somebody could get there. We jumped all over the place. In snow and in sand. We were really an elite troop. What I consider the most fortunate thing is I never had to kill anybody. Because in our cosmology in Iroquois you can’t be a chief if you killed somebody. You can’t have blood on your hands. That was fortunate for me.

“My last jump was a huge disaster. My chute didn’t open, all kinds of things. They said my two chutes popped, they both popped, the reserve and the big one. I hit the trees. They said both chutes popped at tree top level, boom. But I still took limbs off those trees coming down through. When I come to, I hadn’t hit the ground. I was hanging a little off the ground upside down. I seemed to be okay. I hit the quick release button and I fell on the ground. I busted my legs.

“There was a big event that was occurring. It was a hush hush thing for the 82nd. I wanted to make that. I wanted to go, but you couldn’t tell where it was and I busted my leg so I couldn’t go. To me, that was everything bad.

“Well, you know what it was? They detonated the A-bomb and that’s where our troops were, in Nevada. The first one. What happened was they had the combat troops lined up. They detonated the bombs and had the guys run through it. Through that hot stuff. I didn’t go. So, my bad luck was good luck. That taught me a lesson, too. If something like that happens, wait a while. It might not be so bad as you think. It turned out to be a good lesson.

After the War

“I went back to the res and jumped right back in the team. Onondaga Nation had a team that was undefeated. That 1954 team was an extraordinary team. We were playing Syracuse. Coach [Roy] Simmons came down. Simmy came over and said, ‘You ever consider coming to school here.’”

Lyons joined Syracuse for the 1955 season and was twice honored as a third team All-American. He helped the 1957 Orange team to a perfect 10-0 season that culminated with an 8-6 victory over Army.

An extremely talented artist, Lyons was a Dean’s List student and earned the Orange Key award for his academic and athletic achievements.

“I always reflect on that. How many of our kids that never got to school could do that — just never got the break? How many?”

What It Means

“In the Second World War, all competition stopped. Nobody was playing football. All the universities stopped. Lacrosse stopped. Everything was the battles, going overseas. Onondaga didn’t quit playing.”

Legendary Syracuse coach Roy Simmons remembered that when he spoke at a banquet on the Onondaga Reservation before Lyons went to Syracuse.

“He said, ‘You know, I think if it wasn’t the Onondaga Nation and the Six Nations continuing to play, we might have lost that sport altogether.’ That’s an amazing statement coming from a coach with his background.

“That’s what we did. Second World War we were playing. I played on the same team as my father because it was old guys and the young guys left. Everybody else was overseas. Our whole nation was gone. Everybody was either in the Army, the Navy or a couple of troopers, paratroopers. The whole Six Nations was like that. It was us kids and the old guys still playing.”

Lyons says that lacrosse is foundational to Native people, as essential as breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“Where it’s advancing today, there’s that mystique in what we call the medicine game. There’s that in there all the time. It’s in the stick.

“These sticks here, the wood represents all the trees in the world. And the guts and so forth represent all the animals. When we have a medicine game, they talk about that. This is who you’re playing with, this is who you are when you take that stick up. It’s a spiritual event for somebody. Anybody can call for a game at Onondaga, for whatever reason. We don’t question the reason. They call for a game, you go.

“As to who shows up, maybe a game will be 30 guys, maybe a game will be 50 guys. There’s no ref. There’s no structure except the ball goes into the goal, it’s a goal. You’ve got all those guys playing, it’s really a lot of fun. It doesn’t really matter who wins, it matters how much spirit you put into the game. When we play the medicine game, it’s how hard you play. You’re playing for different reasons. And, of course, you’ve invoked everything, all of nature with it as well. It’s a spiritual event. A big one.

“Last year, I would say we had probably eight, nine games. I don’t know about the other nations, how many they’ve had. When somebody calls a game, then the whole thing becomes a community event immediately because he women are a part of that ceremony. They’re the other half. You don’t have that society if the women aren’t there. There’s always involved, but they don’t play in the medicine game.

“When the women started playing lacrosse, at Onondaga we had a big discussion. The clan mothers said you might be hurting the medicine. We don’t know, maybe. Do you think it’s worth a chance? So, they left it up to the players. I remember that meeting because the Iroquois Nationals women, we had the team going. I remember the girls laid down their sticks and walked off the field. Now they picked it up again. Five of the six nations have said it’s okay. Onondaga holds the hard line as usual. It’s up to them, it’s always up to you. It’s between you and the Creator. I stay out of that discussion.

Unbreakable Bonds

One of Lyons most memorable moments was also one of the most painful — a showdown with Angus Thomas, a Mohawk from the Akwesanse Reservation, with a big reputation in the sport. Lyons was just 18 years old.

“He had killed a goalie with a shot. Not on purpose, part of the game. So, they banned him for five years. This was his coming out year. I was anxious to check him out. We were playing up at Akwesanse. They had a box up on the east end of the reservation. We were winning, we had about maybe four minutes to go in game and we were ahead by three goals.

“Those scores in those days were four, six, tough to get through that defense. Paid for it if you got down there. We were ahead by three, so that was a big cushion. My brother, Lee, was out front and I see Angus coming down the center. Then I see him winding up. I knew he was going to shoot. He took that hop, skip and a jump on the underhand. I could hear the ball sizzle, it was sizzling coming, I could hear it. I had two chest protectors on. I could have got my stick up, I think. But I just stuck my chest out and took the shot. It knocked me right on my ass. Knocked me right down. The ball didn’t go in. It was spinning on the front. So, I took the side of my stick and hit the ball over the Howie Hill.

“Boom, I was out.”

Lyons finished the game after a delay.

“After, I was taking the chest protectors off and the old man comes over to me, Angus comes over and he says, ‘Did you get hurt.’ I said nah. He said, ‘Keep it up, you’re going to be a good goalie.’

“The next day I could really feel it. Cracked the two ribs, right through two chest protectors. We got to be good friends. I used to go up there and fish with him. I spent a lot of time with him.

“I was fortunate to make friends. Guys call me up from Akwesasne, even today. There’s a few of us left and say, ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Just friends. You make friends forever. Right across the Six Nations we play a fierce game, hard game, fight in the game sometimes. After the game, ‘C’mon let’s go.’ Always comrades, really tight friendships right across the Six Nations.”