When Southern women see an ugly baby, they cannot bring themselves to lie about the child's looks. Nothing could ever make them say that a baby was ugly. Instead, they say, "bless its little heart."
If any magnolia blossoms were at Tuesday night's Greenwood vs. Allen County-Scottsville basketball game, they left the gym saying "bless its little heart." It was an ugly game. U-G-L-Y. If the gaggle of Fourth Region coaches in attendance threw a DVD of the game into an Allen County farm pond, they could skim ugly off of it for a week. No one would ask this game to the prom.
Greenwood played the first half as if it had no game plan beyond players putting their heads down and driving for the hoop. They spread the defense out, and a player took off for the basket and the others followed right behind him. It was reminiscent of film footage from the old American Gladiators show, and I was expecting everyone to start calling the players "Storm" and "Ice" and "Tower."
Allen County-Scottsville's players had one thing in mind in the first half: get the ball in the hands of Jay Starks. He's the Patriot's go-to-guy this season, and one of the few on the squad that has much experience. He's good, too, possibly one of the best players in the Fourth Region this year. He's a big guard with quick hands and a quicker first step to the basket. He will be a thorn in the side of Fourth Region teams all year. Tuesday night, however, the Patriot squad seemed desperate to get the ball into his hands. On more than one occasion I saw one of his teammate's pass the ball to him instead of passing it to a player in a better position or at a better angle on the court.
I sensed that the other Fourth Region coaches in the stands were frustrated at not really seeing any kind of plays or set offense from either team. I just kind of sensed it from them. I think I even saw them swapping notes.
Despite the daredevil offense by the Gators, they went in the locker room at halftime with a 35-26 lead on ACS.
Allen County was a different team after the break. Scott Shelton must have gotten after his players, and they responded. They played better defense and seemed to frustrate the Gators. Greenwood, inexplicably, quit pressing Allen County in the second half, and the Patriots took advantage of the half court defense. Plus, they started distributing the ball better, and Anthony Graves responding with some key baskets, which took some of the pressure off of Starks, who finished the game with 18. I thought he had about 28, but that's because he must've scored most of their first half points. Graves finished with 16 points.
Greenwood looked like they wore down during the second half. I think their point totals in each quarter backs this up: 19, 16, 10, 9. They seemed to be out of gas at the end of the contest.
Allen County found the momentum in the second half, outscoring the tiring Gators 31-19 in the second frame. The game was tight in the fourth quarter, and with about six minutes left in the game Starks went down under the Greenwood goal with a massive muscle cramp in his leg. I heard that they made him down a bunch of pickle juice to keep him from cramping again. He came back in the game and made some big plays. I'm sure the Greenwood players loved getting in his face after drinking pickle juice.
That could be a good nickname for him: Jay "Pickle Juice" Starks.
Allen County won the ugly contest 56-54. Bless their little hearts.
Dee Anderson, the smooth playing guard for the Gators, severely injured his knee this summer and missed the entire football season. He started last night, but sported a huge brace that looked like it went from the top of his thigh to his ankle. It looked like they took a leg off of a Terminator and put it on Anderson. He had no lateral movement and seemed to be in pain through most of the game. He scored five points last night. He's not the same player right now. I'm sure that he will be back, but I'm wondering if he'll reach 100% this season. It's a shame. From all accounts, I hear that he is a good kid, and I know he's a good basketball player.
OBSERVATIONS
HORSHOES ANYONE?
I love Allen County-Scottsville's gym. It is a horseshoe with roll-out seats down low and concrete stands above them. Steel girders cross the ceiling above the court, and the home side has chairback seats. A bank of wooden bleachers are at the open end of horseshoe, and ACS students fill them. It reminded me of when I lived in Shelby County and was a regular at the Eight Region Tournament at Henry County High School, whose gym is also a horseshoe.
STROKE!!
Allen County's band rocks. They led off with "The Stroke" by Billy Squier. I don't think I've ever heard a band play that song, especially not a high school one. They played some other rock classics, and they played them well, too. They do a good job with their fight song, which is Notre Dame's. I love that song. "Shake all the thunder down from the sky" are probably the best lyrics in the entire library of fight songs.
WHITNEY HOUSTON?
Every time Mark Lacey shot free throws in the second half the ACS students chanted "WHITNEY CHEATED! WHITNEY CHEATED! WHITNEY CHEATED!" I always thought it was Bobby Brown that cheated, and I still can't figure out what Mark Lacey has to do with it.
LIFE AFTER THE GRAVES
Allen County has another kid named Graves, but he's no relation to the hot shooting Luc Graves, who graduated last season. The latest version of Graves should give the Patriots life after the departure of Luc variety of Graves.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
The Truth About Turkey Day
I was thumbing through my copy of the Encyclopedia of Louisville the other night and came across the entry for the "Male-Manual High Schools Football Rivalry." The entry stated that the last "Turkey Day" game between the old rivals was played on November 25, 1976.
That's not right.
Now, I don't like taking on the Encyclopedia of Louisville because it is a superb book, and I know a lot of people who worked on the project. Your's truly wrote several of the entries for it. While the entry for the Male-Manual rivalry is mostly correct, it is way off on the year for the last Thanksgiving Day match up between the two schools.
I know. I went to Male High. I was a freshman in 1980, and that is the last year they played the Male-Manual game on Thanksgiving.
In the context of the football game, students at Male and Manual called the holiday "T-Day," and I used to have a pin that said "T-Day 1980," which sported a drawing of a bulldog. A few years ago I donated all the things I had relating to the last "T-Day" game to the Filson Historical Society in Louisville because in my possession they were getting torn and tattered and broken.
Thanksgiving was on November 27th that year, and several inches of rain fell on Louisville that day. Only a few hundred people braved the wet and cold weather to watch two once storied programs grind out one last Thanksgiving Day game, and I wish I could write that they were treated to a great football game. The truth, however, is that the Male and Manual football teams had fallen on hard times. I don't know what Manual's record was that season, but Male High had only managed to win two ballgames, back-to-back victories in the middle of the season against Stuart High School and Shawnee. It was a rough season.
In the Male-Manual game the two teams did something that had never been done since the rivalry began in 1893: they played to a zero to zero tie. Unbelievably, there had been only a handful of tie ballgames in the 87 year history of the match up. In an unprecedented move the schools agreed to play an overtime. The hearty fans had to brave more rain and cold to watch an extra period of football. Manual punched the ball into the end zone and won the last "T-Day" Male-Manual game 6-0.
As everyone knows, Male and Manual continue to play every year on the last Friday night of the football season. While the two old rivals have yielded to the Trinity and St. Xavier game, it is still a meaningful game. It hurt me when I saw that Manual beat Male this season, and I've been out of high school for a long time.
It had been awhile since the Rams (we always called them the "goats") beat the Bulldogs. When I was at Male High, Manual had the upper hand and carried a four year winning streak that they stretched into a seven year winning streak by my junior year. It was painful. It seemed like Male would never turn the tables on our rival down the street, and taunting from the Manual students made it even more excruciating.
Finally, on October 29, 1983, my senior year, Male High upended Manual in a 7 to 6 thriller at DuPont Manual Stadium. It was relief.
Male and Manual have a sort of trophy that they trade back-and-forth. It's an old barrel on which a gold "H" is painted on a purple background and a white "M" is painted on a red background. Whoever wins the football game gets to keep the barrel at their school, and they turn the loser's colors to the wall for the year. For my first three years at Male High -- the old one at Brook and Breckinridge streets -- there was a place for "The Barrel" under a banner some ancient graduating class purchased for the school.
On the Monday after Male's victory, Manual's football team brought the barrel back up Brook Street, and the seniors from Male High's squad hoisted the portly trophy over their heads and carried it into the gymnasium. The entire student body, which had never seen the barrel, awaited its return and cheered wildly as the team paraded it around the gym floor.
It was a great source of pride to see The Barrel in the long hallway of old Male High's second floor, which had a long line of trophy cases along the walls between classroom doors. The trophies in those cases -- commemorating state championships in football and basketball -- seemed unimportant with the barrel back where I thought it belonged with that gaudy "M" turned to the plaster wall at Male.
"Let's give a 'rah' for Dear Ole High School
And let us pledge our love of old.
Others may like white and crimson
But for us it's Purple and Gold."
On my last day at Male High, I stopped in front of the old barrel and took one last look at it. I haven't seen it since.
That's not right.
Now, I don't like taking on the Encyclopedia of Louisville because it is a superb book, and I know a lot of people who worked on the project. Your's truly wrote several of the entries for it. While the entry for the Male-Manual rivalry is mostly correct, it is way off on the year for the last Thanksgiving Day match up between the two schools.
I know. I went to Male High. I was a freshman in 1980, and that is the last year they played the Male-Manual game on Thanksgiving.
In the context of the football game, students at Male and Manual called the holiday "T-Day," and I used to have a pin that said "T-Day 1980," which sported a drawing of a bulldog. A few years ago I donated all the things I had relating to the last "T-Day" game to the Filson Historical Society in Louisville because in my possession they were getting torn and tattered and broken.
Thanksgiving was on November 27th that year, and several inches of rain fell on Louisville that day. Only a few hundred people braved the wet and cold weather to watch two once storied programs grind out one last Thanksgiving Day game, and I wish I could write that they were treated to a great football game. The truth, however, is that the Male and Manual football teams had fallen on hard times. I don't know what Manual's record was that season, but Male High had only managed to win two ballgames, back-to-back victories in the middle of the season against Stuart High School and Shawnee. It was a rough season.
In the Male-Manual game the two teams did something that had never been done since the rivalry began in 1893: they played to a zero to zero tie. Unbelievably, there had been only a handful of tie ballgames in the 87 year history of the match up. In an unprecedented move the schools agreed to play an overtime. The hearty fans had to brave more rain and cold to watch an extra period of football. Manual punched the ball into the end zone and won the last "T-Day" Male-Manual game 6-0.
As everyone knows, Male and Manual continue to play every year on the last Friday night of the football season. While the two old rivals have yielded to the Trinity and St. Xavier game, it is still a meaningful game. It hurt me when I saw that Manual beat Male this season, and I've been out of high school for a long time.
It had been awhile since the Rams (we always called them the "goats") beat the Bulldogs. When I was at Male High, Manual had the upper hand and carried a four year winning streak that they stretched into a seven year winning streak by my junior year. It was painful. It seemed like Male would never turn the tables on our rival down the street, and taunting from the Manual students made it even more excruciating.
Finally, on October 29, 1983, my senior year, Male High upended Manual in a 7 to 6 thriller at DuPont Manual Stadium. It was relief.
Male and Manual have a sort of trophy that they trade back-and-forth. It's an old barrel on which a gold "H" is painted on a purple background and a white "M" is painted on a red background. Whoever wins the football game gets to keep the barrel at their school, and they turn the loser's colors to the wall for the year. For my first three years at Male High -- the old one at Brook and Breckinridge streets -- there was a place for "The Barrel" under a banner some ancient graduating class purchased for the school.
On the Monday after Male's victory, Manual's football team brought the barrel back up Brook Street, and the seniors from Male High's squad hoisted the portly trophy over their heads and carried it into the gymnasium. The entire student body, which had never seen the barrel, awaited its return and cheered wildly as the team paraded it around the gym floor.
It was a great source of pride to see The Barrel in the long hallway of old Male High's second floor, which had a long line of trophy cases along the walls between classroom doors. The trophies in those cases -- commemorating state championships in football and basketball -- seemed unimportant with the barrel back where I thought it belonged with that gaudy "M" turned to the plaster wall at Male.
"Let's give a 'rah' for Dear Ole High School
And let us pledge our love of old.
Others may like white and crimson
But for us it's Purple and Gold."
On my last day at Male High, I stopped in front of the old barrel and took one last look at it. I haven't seen it since.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Can't Find the Kick Starter
Sheesh! I just can't seem to get out to a game these days. I was wanting to get to some football playoff games, but I haven't been able to find the time. It's o.k. because I'm really intending this blog to be about basketball, but I hate that it has been dormant for nearly three weeks. So, I'm whipping out a re-tread of something I wrote a little more than a month ago.
My friends Russ Cummins and Danny Brown are the broadcast team for Fern Creek High School in Louisville. They do a fantastic job of calling and describing the games each week, and what is even more amazing is that they had zero broadcast experience prior to getting behind the microphone for the first game last season. Fern Creek is mighty lucky because they are very professional.
This year, Russ and Danny decided to include a weekly segment that featured a short essay from your's truly. They called it "Trace's Soapbox." I'd write something each week, and Danny Brown read it on the air. The funny thing about this is that I'm an alumnus of one of Fern Creek's rivals, Louisville Male High School, and we've always teased one another about our different loyalties. I had a blast coming up with something new every five or six or seven days, and there were times when I had to get a prompt from them for a topic. There were other times when I'd get an idea in my head and could not wait to write it and send it to them.
After being on the road on a couple of different Friday nights, I came up with this:
People always want to romanticize baseball. I have no problem with that because I love that sport along with football and basketball. I divide the year into three seasons: basketball, baseball, and football. I don't pay much attention to the seasons dictated to us by the revolving of Earth.
I find romance in all three sports. Basketball is full of electricity, and it would be impossible to live in a state with college teams like Kentucky, Louisville, and Western Kentucky without having some lusty draw to the traditions and history of that sport. I remember driving across Kentucky one cold January night and finding Cawood Ledford's soothing voice on nearly every radio station. He was like a warming beacon guiding me through the darkness. I remember stopping for gas at one point during that trip and the service station had the Kentucky game on the loudspeaker by the pumps. The attendant had the game on inside, too. I didn't miss a minute of the game and didn't miss the Mrs. Grissom's commercials either.
How did she make those salads taste so fine?
I was born into a baseball family, so that sport has a mighty tug on me. All the movies, all the novels, all the drippy sports writing done about baseball are true for me, too. My grandfather played baseball, and an abiding love of the sport has been handed down to me.
That leaves football. I don't think many people find romance in the game, but I do.
My wife and I love to travel. We find any excuse to take a trip. We just sort of wander the highways, and we have to explain why a trip to Tennessee found us in east Kentucky. Never mind that. A few weeks ago, we were heading back to Bowling Green on a Friday afternoon that crept into night. Out on a lonely stretch of the Cumberland Parkway I discovered a caravan of cars and two school busses from one of Kentucky's too many counties. No doubt, the rolling assemblage was heading for some contest one or two or more counties away.
I wanted to pull into the "rocking chair" of their convoy and go wherever they were headed to watch some high school football tilt. As I passed them, I wanted to give them some sort of sign that my heart was with them. I wanted to be them and watch their boys go nose to nose with their opponent.
Later on our journey, when it was dark, we passed a town, and from the highway I could see the burning lights of six light standards glowing down on a football field lost down behind the tree line. I felt a pull. I had to fight the urge to exit and meander my way through that dark town and sit in the cold to watch football. My wife and children would've rebelled at such a spur-of-the-moment switch in our plans. Plus, we didn't have the warm clothes to endure a chilly night.
I don't know why but I looked at those Friday Night Lights for as long as could. I even checked my rearview mirrors so I could watch them fade as my Ford tumbled over the horizon. Finally, all I could see was their bright shaft shining into the heavens stirring the souls of guys like Lombardi and Landry to sit at the brim of Valhalla and watch another high school football game.
I find romance in all three sports. Basketball is full of electricity, and it would be impossible to live in a state with college teams like Kentucky, Louisville, and Western Kentucky without having some lusty draw to the traditions and history of that sport. I remember driving across Kentucky one cold January night and finding Cawood Ledford's soothing voice on nearly every radio station. He was like a warming beacon guiding me through the darkness. I remember stopping for gas at one point during that trip and the service station had the Kentucky game on the loudspeaker by the pumps. The attendant had the game on inside, too. I didn't miss a minute of the game and didn't miss the Mrs. Grissom's commercials either.
How did she make those salads taste so fine?
I was born into a baseball family, so that sport has a mighty tug on me. All the movies, all the novels, all the drippy sports writing done about baseball are true for me, too. My grandfather played baseball, and an abiding love of the sport has been handed down to me.
That leaves football. I don't think many people find romance in the game, but I do.
My wife and I love to travel. We find any excuse to take a trip. We just sort of wander the highways, and we have to explain why a trip to Tennessee found us in east Kentucky. Never mind that. A few weeks ago, we were heading back to Bowling Green on a Friday afternoon that crept into night. Out on a lonely stretch of the Cumberland Parkway I discovered a caravan of cars and two school busses from one of Kentucky's too many counties. No doubt, the rolling assemblage was heading for some contest one or two or more counties away.
I wanted to pull into the "rocking chair" of their convoy and go wherever they were headed to watch some high school football tilt. As I passed them, I wanted to give them some sort of sign that my heart was with them. I wanted to be them and watch their boys go nose to nose with their opponent.
Later on our journey, when it was dark, we passed a town, and from the highway I could see the burning lights of six light standards glowing down on a football field lost down behind the tree line. I felt a pull. I had to fight the urge to exit and meander my way through that dark town and sit in the cold to watch football. My wife and children would've rebelled at such a spur-of-the-moment switch in our plans. Plus, we didn't have the warm clothes to endure a chilly night.
I don't know why but I looked at those Friday Night Lights for as long as could. I even checked my rearview mirrors so I could watch them fade as my Ford tumbled over the horizon. Finally, all I could see was their bright shaft shining into the heavens stirring the souls of guys like Lombardi and Landry to sit at the brim of Valhalla and watch another high school football game.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
What's The Point?
Welcome to my blog. Last basketball season I wrote an e-mail blog to several friends covering the Fourth Region Basketball Tournament in Diddle Arena. One or two nights into the tournament, I noticed that my e-mail list had grown after friends forwarded my messages and people asked to be included. Some said they were funny and some, I must confess, contacted me and told me to quit sending them because they were -- to paraphrase -- less than intelligent. Someone suggested that I start a blog. It was too late last year to start a blog, so I put it off until this season.
In this blog, I am not going to try to give a blow-by-blow account of any game. People can read that stuff in the newspapers. I sometimes might put some statistics in here, but I never get caught up in stats unless they are used to make a point in a story or provide background information for a story. I will only try to capture the flavor of high school basketball and football by examining rivalries, atmosphere in a gymnasium or stadium, and -- as a season draws to a close -- I will take a look at important games. In the basketball post season, I will provide insight into the Fourth Region Basketball Tournament, to which I usually have extensive access. In fact, I almost called this "The Fourth Region Blog," but I wanted to be able to step out of the region because I have close ties to First, Third, Fourth, and Seventh regions. There are times I end up at games in those regions and will want to write something about them.
I've also attended ten of the last twelve Sweet Sixteen Championships, and it is a family tradition to go to the championship game. I'm giving serious consideration to attending the entire tournament this March, but because I work for a living I don't always get to do what I want.
Yep. It's called "Pennyrile Pick and Roll." So, why did I lead off with a football story? It was the luck of the draw, and I wanted to format the website before the basketball season got up and running. I should have opportunities to attend some of the football playoffs in parts of the state.
I hope everyone enjoys reading my thoughts, and I humbly put them out here for people to read. I really hope that I can make people laugh from time-to-time without picking on players or coaches or officials.
In this blog, I am not going to try to give a blow-by-blow account of any game. People can read that stuff in the newspapers. I sometimes might put some statistics in here, but I never get caught up in stats unless they are used to make a point in a story or provide background information for a story. I will only try to capture the flavor of high school basketball and football by examining rivalries, atmosphere in a gymnasium or stadium, and -- as a season draws to a close -- I will take a look at important games. In the basketball post season, I will provide insight into the Fourth Region Basketball Tournament, to which I usually have extensive access. In fact, I almost called this "The Fourth Region Blog," but I wanted to be able to step out of the region because I have close ties to First, Third, Fourth, and Seventh regions. There are times I end up at games in those regions and will want to write something about them.
I've also attended ten of the last twelve Sweet Sixteen Championships, and it is a family tradition to go to the championship game. I'm giving serious consideration to attending the entire tournament this March, but because I work for a living I don't always get to do what I want.
Yep. It's called "Pennyrile Pick and Roll." So, why did I lead off with a football story? It was the luck of the draw, and I wanted to format the website before the basketball season got up and running. I should have opportunities to attend some of the football playoffs in parts of the state.
I hope everyone enjoys reading my thoughts, and I humbly put them out here for people to read. I really hope that I can make people laugh from time-to-time without picking on players or coaches or officials.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Bowling Green @ Marshall County 11-02-07
As Scott Thompson and Roy Beard set up their broadcast equipment in the press box at Carroll Traylor Stadium last night, a flock of geese flew in a lopsided triangle low above the oak trees on the far side of the football field. It looked as if a coach from long ago sent ghostly players down from some pigskin heaven to wing one last flying wedge before one of the best matchups in the state. The reedy honks of the geese disappeared over the dark trees, and the noise of the growing crowd and public address system recaptured the night from the feathery formation that graced a cold Jackson Purchase night.
It was a night designed for high school football: cold, crisp, and no wind to chill the fans and players. Smoke from the Marshal’s football booster club hung over the field like battle smoke, as if omen of what was about to take place on the field. The orange jerseys of Marshall County flashed and the gold helmets of the Bowling Green Purples glistened during warm ups. Both teams held lofty rankings in their respective classes: The Marshals were ranked sixth in 6A and the Purples were ranked second in 5A.
I must confess that I invited myself to the game, and Scott Thompson, my neighbor, allowed me to mooch a ride to Draffenville with him. The game was too good of a match up to be polite about horning in on a free ride the home of the Kentucky State Welding Champion (I forget the guy’s name, but a big sign at the edge of town proclaims his feat in the traditional white on green road sign).
I probably over-estimated Marshall County (a little) and underestimated Bowling Green. I even heard someone from Marshall County confess that they had probably one kid that matched up with the Bowling Green players. They were right, and it became evident very early in the game because the Purples pounced on the Marshals like a gang of gun slinging outlaws did in the days of the Old West.
Instead of slinging guns and lead, the Purples slung pigskin and punished Marshall County with dizzying switchbacks and jukes and jives on the ground. By the time Trent Steelman scrambled his way into the endzone on 27 yard run, the purply goblins were up by two touchdowns, and the Marshals were trying to figure out when the Illinois Central Railroad built a double-tracked main line between the hash marks in Traylor Stadium. The gun slinging outlaws from Bowling Green had turned into a 14 wheeled steam engine chuffing through the middle of Draffenville.
Yep, the radio guys were right. Marshall County had Stephen Barga, who had thrown a whopping 13 touchdowns in the first nine games without a single interception. He had completed 109 of 165 passes, but Bowling Green pressured Barga throughout the entire game. They forced him to throw an interception – to a defensive lineman, which is both insult and injury to a quarterback. But, Bowling Green had several weapons with Steelman, Tevin Barksdale, and D.L. Moore.
Although Bowling Green opened with a flourish, Marshall County was not out of the game heading into the late minutes of the first half. However, Bowling Green scored a field goal during the closing seconds of the half and scored a touchdown to open the third quarter. It was time for the Marshals to turn in their badges because they were finished. In minutes the game went from a manageable 21-7 score to 31-7, and the November chill probably got a lot colder for the faithful Marshall County fans.
Bowling Green won the contest 52-14.
The score does not indicate how good Marshall County is. They are a good football team and should be a formidable opponent in the 6A Playoffs. They face Henderson County in the first round, though, but at least they have them in Traylor Stadium there in Draffenville. No offense to the Marshalls and their fans, but they will be easy prey for any one of the powerhouses in Louisville or northern Kentucky.
Bowling Green is possibly one of the best teams in the state. They hung with Trinity early in the season, and they have improved from there. Two things that could prove to be an Achilles heel for the Purples: 1) they get too many stupid penalties. Some of it is because they are coached to play through the whistle, which often results in personal fouls called against them, but they push and shove after the play. It doesn’t hurt in a 52-14 game, but it could really hurt in a tight playoff game. They’re going to have a couple of those, too. 2) Trent Steelman needs to learn to keep his cool. Marshall County got after him a couple of times, and he threw a really boneheaded interception. He seemed shaky and not confident after that play. He regrouped. When Bowling Green plays someone like Highlands, there isn’t going to be a chance to regroup.
I do think Bowling Green will play in Louisville in December. I just hope they win it.
OBSERVATIONS
Hayden Fry Reincarnate
I noticed that Marshall County doesn’t use down linemen. They take the line scrimmage looking like linebackers, and I remembered that Hayden Fry played his offensive lines at Iowa like that. They were flummoxed by Bowling Green’s defensive line playing about a yard and half off of the ball. When the two teams lined up, I could’ve driven a golf cart down the line of scrimmage and not touched a single player.
The Old West Bowl
When I looked at Marshall County’s roster, immediately I noticed two kids with the first name Dakota: #79 Dakota Johnson and #99 Dakota Stevenson. I wondered if they carried the nicknames of “North” and “South.” Then, I saw that they also had #50, a sophomore, named Dakota Gibbs. I decided that his nickname might be “Fargo North.”
As I scanned the rosters for both teams, I also noticed that Marshall County had a kid named Denver – Denver Seay -- and Bowling Green had two kids named Austin: Yates and Beard. I can’t remember, but I think there was also a player named Cody. I started to feel like I was looking at an itinerary for Wild West tour.
The Name Game
Future Journalist? C.J. Reed. I hope the kid is more substantive and has better circulation than the C.J. “Don’t Read” out of Louisville.
Save Ferris: Bowling Green Defensive End/Lineback John Hughes shares names with the Hollywood writer/director/producer that gave the world Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Hey, Bowling Green has already produced John Carpenter.
Best Name of the Game: At first, I wanted to give this award to Deuce DeWalt for the Bowling Green Purples, but then I saw #52 for the Marshals, Jake Shakes. If I owned an ice cream parlor in Marshall County, I would start offering Jake Shakes. I’m trying to think how one could make a milk shake with blue and orange ice cream and make it tasty or appetizing.
It was a night designed for high school football: cold, crisp, and no wind to chill the fans and players. Smoke from the Marshal’s football booster club hung over the field like battle smoke, as if omen of what was about to take place on the field. The orange jerseys of Marshall County flashed and the gold helmets of the Bowling Green Purples glistened during warm ups. Both teams held lofty rankings in their respective classes: The Marshals were ranked sixth in 6A and the Purples were ranked second in 5A.
I must confess that I invited myself to the game, and Scott Thompson, my neighbor, allowed me to mooch a ride to Draffenville with him. The game was too good of a match up to be polite about horning in on a free ride the home of the Kentucky State Welding Champion (I forget the guy’s name, but a big sign at the edge of town proclaims his feat in the traditional white on green road sign).
I probably over-estimated Marshall County (a little) and underestimated Bowling Green. I even heard someone from Marshall County confess that they had probably one kid that matched up with the Bowling Green players. They were right, and it became evident very early in the game because the Purples pounced on the Marshals like a gang of gun slinging outlaws did in the days of the Old West.
Instead of slinging guns and lead, the Purples slung pigskin and punished Marshall County with dizzying switchbacks and jukes and jives on the ground. By the time Trent Steelman scrambled his way into the endzone on 27 yard run, the purply goblins were up by two touchdowns, and the Marshals were trying to figure out when the Illinois Central Railroad built a double-tracked main line between the hash marks in Traylor Stadium. The gun slinging outlaws from Bowling Green had turned into a 14 wheeled steam engine chuffing through the middle of Draffenville.
Yep, the radio guys were right. Marshall County had Stephen Barga, who had thrown a whopping 13 touchdowns in the first nine games without a single interception. He had completed 109 of 165 passes, but Bowling Green pressured Barga throughout the entire game. They forced him to throw an interception – to a defensive lineman, which is both insult and injury to a quarterback. But, Bowling Green had several weapons with Steelman, Tevin Barksdale, and D.L. Moore.
Although Bowling Green opened with a flourish, Marshall County was not out of the game heading into the late minutes of the first half. However, Bowling Green scored a field goal during the closing seconds of the half and scored a touchdown to open the third quarter. It was time for the Marshals to turn in their badges because they were finished. In minutes the game went from a manageable 21-7 score to 31-7, and the November chill probably got a lot colder for the faithful Marshall County fans.
Bowling Green won the contest 52-14.
The score does not indicate how good Marshall County is. They are a good football team and should be a formidable opponent in the 6A Playoffs. They face Henderson County in the first round, though, but at least they have them in Traylor Stadium there in Draffenville. No offense to the Marshalls and their fans, but they will be easy prey for any one of the powerhouses in Louisville or northern Kentucky.
Bowling Green is possibly one of the best teams in the state. They hung with Trinity early in the season, and they have improved from there. Two things that could prove to be an Achilles heel for the Purples: 1) they get too many stupid penalties. Some of it is because they are coached to play through the whistle, which often results in personal fouls called against them, but they push and shove after the play. It doesn’t hurt in a 52-14 game, but it could really hurt in a tight playoff game. They’re going to have a couple of those, too. 2) Trent Steelman needs to learn to keep his cool. Marshall County got after him a couple of times, and he threw a really boneheaded interception. He seemed shaky and not confident after that play. He regrouped. When Bowling Green plays someone like Highlands, there isn’t going to be a chance to regroup.
I do think Bowling Green will play in Louisville in December. I just hope they win it.
OBSERVATIONS
Hayden Fry Reincarnate
I noticed that Marshall County doesn’t use down linemen. They take the line scrimmage looking like linebackers, and I remembered that Hayden Fry played his offensive lines at Iowa like that. They were flummoxed by Bowling Green’s defensive line playing about a yard and half off of the ball. When the two teams lined up, I could’ve driven a golf cart down the line of scrimmage and not touched a single player.
The Old West Bowl
When I looked at Marshall County’s roster, immediately I noticed two kids with the first name Dakota: #79 Dakota Johnson and #99 Dakota Stevenson. I wondered if they carried the nicknames of “North” and “South.” Then, I saw that they also had #50, a sophomore, named Dakota Gibbs. I decided that his nickname might be “Fargo North.”
As I scanned the rosters for both teams, I also noticed that Marshall County had a kid named Denver – Denver Seay -- and Bowling Green had two kids named Austin: Yates and Beard. I can’t remember, but I think there was also a player named Cody. I started to feel like I was looking at an itinerary for Wild West tour.
The Name Game
Future Journalist? C.J. Reed. I hope the kid is more substantive and has better circulation than the C.J. “Don’t Read” out of Louisville.
Save Ferris: Bowling Green Defensive End/Lineback John Hughes shares names with the Hollywood writer/director/producer that gave the world Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Hey, Bowling Green has already produced John Carpenter.
Best Name of the Game: At first, I wanted to give this award to Deuce DeWalt for the Bowling Green Purples, but then I saw #52 for the Marshals, Jake Shakes. If I owned an ice cream parlor in Marshall County, I would start offering Jake Shakes. I’m trying to think how one could make a milk shake with blue and orange ice cream and make it tasty or appetizing.
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