I try to keep this blog mostly about w
riting so I use it to share writing u
pdates and news. But from time to time, I will also share pieces I have written. Today, I'm in the mood for autumn, so in the sp
irit of fall, here is a piece that I wrote several years ago. I posted it on my other blog last year and on a blog I contribute to the year before. Maybe next fall, I'll give it a rest but I do so love the memories of my high school cheerleading days and our AAA state football champions. It's titled
"High School Football and the Age of
Innocence"
On a late August night, the temperature still sweltering and
people still sweating even as the sun went down, I stood on the field with my
fellow cheerleaders. A harvest moon rose over our heads and our hearts filled
with hope as we eagerly awaited the opening game of what should be a great
season. We had most of our starting players returning. I was the co-captain of
the cheerleaders. The outlook for this season, my senior year, was promising.
It was the fall of 1975–many years ago. Much has happened
since that warm August night. Karen, the captain of the cheerleaders, and my close
friend, died just three years later in a double murder which is still unsolved.
Her death shattered the innocence of the sleepy little mountain town in southern
West Virginia
where I lived. Other members of that team have passed away as well but we have a
few success stories. Donnie, the offensive captain, played football at
Wake Forest
University. He is now the
CFO of an Atlanta-based business. Wayne, a junior that year, also played
football at
Wake Forest, setting some Atlantic Coast
Conference receiving records while there. Joey, the quarterback, is a tenured
professor now. I married, moved to
Louisville,
raised four children and eventually became a writer. Those of my classmates who
remain see each other once in a while at class reunions.
Reunion weekend always starts
with tickets to the Beaver-Graham game. It is tradition for my high school, the
Bluefield Beavers, to start their season playing cross-town rivals, the Graham
G-Men. This annual match up in the same stadium we used in 1975 has much the
same feel as it did back then. There is still the cracking of helmets,
enthusiastic cheerleaders on the sidelines, excited fans, and the hot August
night skies still boasts a harvest moon.
Young Again
As I sat in the stands on such an August evening a few years
ago, my mind could not help but wander to bygone days and I was once again on
the field next to my friend Karen cheering our team on. We lost only one game
that year. But our hopes faded as our team dropped into fift
h place in the
statewide poll. Back then, only the top four teams in the state earned the
privilege of moving on to post season play-offs.
But in the middle of the last game of the season, our luck
changed. Over the public address system, the announcer loudly proclaimed that
George Washington
High School was beating
Charleston in their season’s
last game. A cheer rang out, first in a low rumble then building to a frenzy as
the impact of the news sank in. If George Washington could pull out a win
against #4
Charleston,
it would change the ratings.
Charleston
would fall to fifth and we would move up into that much coveted fourth place
position, gaining a right to post-season action.
As the second half of both games progressed, forgetting our
own game which we were handily winning, we waited with bated breath for each
update on the other game, several hours away. Finally, the last announcement
came–Charleston lost! Our own win a few moments later was rather anticlimactic.
We were flying high just the same because we knew we were headed to the state football
play-offs!
Play-offs, Here We Come!
The semi-final game pitted my high school, fourth-ranked
Bluefield, against first-ranked
and unbeaten Buchannan–Upshur. The Buck–Ups had a player named Tinker Jackson,
reputed to be the top running back in the sate. Our lead scorer’s name was Donnie
Jackson. Someone in our fan club had made a huge sign that read,
“Our Jackson
is better then your Jackson.”
The game ended with
Bluefield
routing Buchannan–Upshur 42-0! Donnie scored three touchdowns in that game. I
guess our sign was right.
November 22, 1975 was the coldest ball game I have ever
participated in. It would have been bad enough had I been sitting in the stands
under a blanket, warming my hands around a cup of hot cocoa; but I was on the
field in a cheerleader skirt that barely covered my bloomer clad butt. The
layers of shirts under my thick white sweater and the gloves I wore did nothing
for my exposed legs that had only a pair of sheer panty hose between them and
the frigid air! I think that’s the coldest I have ever been in my life. But it
was worth it. We came from behind at the half to claim the title with a 20-7
victory.
That was many years ago and much has happened since. But
hidden away in my heart will always be the treasured experience of cheering for
the 1975 West Virginia AAA High School Football Champions. Every fall when the
leaves look festive, the air feels crisp, and harvest moons hang in the sky
like giant pumpkins; America turns attention to its favorite pastime and my
mind remembers days gone by, dear friends I have lost, and the glories of high
school football in the age of innocence.
