Hamilton Herald Masthead

Editorial


Front Page - Friday, February 3, 2012

Moot Points




The Giants and Patriots (and of course, the multi-million dollar commercials) may be taking stage this weekend, but they’ll have to put on quite a show to leave a lasting impression like some of the things I’ve seen at much smaller gridiron venues over the years.

I knew a coach at one school (I’ll let him enjoy his retirement without naming him) that actually had one player on every kickoff jump in from the sidelines when the trailing official ran past. This team was great on kickoff coverage because having 12 defenders on the field was usually a recipe for success.

I saw a high school playoff game played in several inches of mud following a weeklong downpour, and the players could only take baby steps in order to remain upright. It was agonizing to watch and there were only a couple of pass attempts all night long.

I saw a high school field in Oklahoma back in the 80’s once where the back of the end zone had a steep slope about 10 feet long with about a four-foot drop. At the end of the drop off was a chain link fence with its prongs facing up. I cringed every time a fade pass was thrown in the end zone, fearing the player would become a shish kabob.

Then there was the game between small schools Mountainburg and Elkins in Northwest Arkansas circa 1982. The 1988 “Fog Bowl” playoff game between the Philadelphia Eagles and Chicago Bears had nothing on this one. Played just across Highway 16 from the White River, the heavy fog began rolling in before kickoff and it only thickened as the late autumn evening rolled on. The sky looked like gravy.

During pregame warm-ups, a wayward Canadian Goose, apparently confused by the fog, landed on the field and proceeded to make itself at home. While the teams warmed up on each end, the goose walked around near midfield. When the game started, the goose strategically wandered on the opposite end from where the action was taking place.

This was a cranky goose, honking and squawking, or whatever noise it is that a goose makes, all night long.

With the forward pass being almost non-existent due to the thick fog, defenses were in total control. The score, if memory serves me correct, was tied at 6-6 at the end of regulation. The goose, obviously finished traveling for the night, was still wandering the field at its most open area.

On Mountainburg’s first possession, the Dragons tried a pass out in the flat. An Elkins defensive back actually spotted the ball, snagged it and began sprinting down the sideline. With action taking place deep on one end of the field, the goose had developed a false sense of security that it could move about more freely.

As the Elkins player was heading toward glory, the goose, now on about the 35-yard line on the same end of the field as the action, thought it was being chased. The goose took flight, but only about three feet off the ground. It headed straight for the goal line, the same path as the player. The goose landed on about the 20-yard line at the other end of the field, but quickly realized the player was still coming at him.

This time, the goose opted to run rather than take flight. The player had long since left behind any would-be tacklers for Mountainburg and the only thing that stood between him and the goal line was this freaked-out goose. The last 20 yards was a foot race. The goose, with its wings spread out, wobbled frantically as it sought freedom from the crazed, helmet-yielding human. The player charged ahead with the game-ending TD now only a few strides away. The goose managed to stay about six feet in front of the player, who, upon reaching the goal line, tossed the ball high into the air as he celebrated victory. The ball was the final straw for the goose, which took flight again, and in the blink of an eye disappeared into the dark and still foggy night air, never to be heard from again.