SoCal High School Sports Reeling from Wildfires

active_homecoming — Wed, 31 Oct 2007 23:42:00 GMT

From a recent ESPN.com/Page 2 aritcle by Mary Buckheit: "While the effect of the fires on San Diego's sports scene is no doubt inferior to human tragedies, athletic happenings do not go without record.

The list of professional athletes and local superstars ordered to evacuate was extensive; several lost homes. The Chargers' migration to Arizona last week was well-documented, as was the necessary deferment of the San Diego State vs. BYU football game. The Chargers made a celebratory return to Qualcomm Stadium for Sunday's game, handing the Texans a rout right on schedule, and the SDSU Aztecs are set to make up their encounter with BYU in December.

But one sporting sector--the high school--is stuck with an unshakable side effect this season ."

Homecoming and Steak Knives

mikeyactive — Tue, 16 Oct 2007 19:58:00 GMT

My most vivid homecoming memory--besides getting dumped outside the San Dieguito High School gymnasium--was halftime during the homecoming game of my senior year.

We were playing Orange Glen--or Apple Valley or Tangerine Grove or some other rural-sounding school--and were down 21-0 at the end of the second quarter. Our vaunted offensive attack, which had produced a total of 13 points over the last two games, was derailed somewhat by our offensive line's inability to block anyone over 5-foot-2.

I was a reporter at the time for the school's bi-weekly paper, The Mustang. It was my job to break Pulitzer Prize-winning stories about the team (Read: print the final score).

As I peered into the locker room through a window in the snack bar, imagining myself a younger, better-looking version of Bob Woodward, I could hear the low anguished voice of Mustangs head coach Ed Burke.

"Boys, I won't lie to you," said Burke. "That was pathetic. I can't believe we charge money for play like that."

Most of the players looked down, anticipating a verbal thrashing from this 25-year coaching legend. Which speech would he give this time? The "I remember the time we were down 35 points against Poway and came back to win" edition, or "your shoddy blocking and inconsistent coverage bring eternal dishonor to your namesake" version.

Instead coach just stood there shaking his head, as if no words could express the betrayal he felt on this homecoming night. He motioned to a tall, athletic man in his early 20s hiding in the corner, a gray hooded sweatshirt covering his face.

"Some of you know me, some of you don't," said the mysterious figure. "I used to play quarterback here. Today, I sit in a cubicle all day long selling steak knives over the phone."

Was it true? Had Brent Wood, two-time all-conference quarterback, former homecoming king and the young man who guided his team in the CIF playoffs against an Oceanside squad led by middle linebacker Junior Seau, become a....telemarketer?!

"But when I get down, when I feel like the whole world is stocked with all the titanium-alloy steak knives they'll ever need," said Wood. "I think, 'I was somebody. I was a winning quarterback on homecoming night.' And knowing that makes me feel good."

No one spoke. They didn't have to. They were all thinking the same thing, "If a high school quarterback with a 60% completion rate can't get any respect..."

As the team ran out of the locker room to take the field in the second half, there was a purpose to their step that wasn't there before. They weren't just playing for themselves; they were playing for anybody who ever had a dream. For anybody who ever pushed themselves to the brink of physical and mental exhaustion. For anybody who ever had the courage to say, "Yes, I sell kitchen goods over the phone at reasonable prices. For one night, one glorious homecoming night, I was a god."

The Mustangs staged an amazing comeback that night to win 38-31. Skills which eluded the team in the early going, such as tackling and throwing the ball over 5 yards, appeared with such suddenness that dreams of conference championships and NFL careers danced in the minds of the players as they carried their fabled coach off the field.

Though none of the players on that team ended up playing on Sundays--just a few would play college football, most of them as walk-ons--each of them saw homecoming night as the turning point in their season and the fulfillment of their football career.

But it's the former quarterback who I remember to this day. Every time I slice zucchini with my Peter Luger knife, or cut garlic bread into squares with my Norpro bread slicer I think of Wood. No celebrations. No being carried off the field by his former teammates. Just a gray hooded sweatshirt, disappearing into the parking lot and thinking how wonderful it is to come home.

Snake Dance in the Southwest

mike_cramton — Fri, 05 Oct 2007 22:30:00 GMT

I grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma, graduating from Booker T. Washington high school class of '91 -- home of the Hornets. On game days and homecoming in particular, 30 minutes before the end of final period a rumbling began in the halls of the school. It started at the north end of the building by shop class and the choir practice room, making its way through the building. It was the Funky Ds T-Connection Drum Core and they were in full form: two bass drums, two snares, half-bass and 4-piece toms. Man, they were loud. People rushed out of their classrooms and followed the snake dance out of the main building, then down to the field house for the pep rally. It was awesome. My school , we had soul...

I didn't shoot this video, but here's some recent footage of our drum core:

Active Homecoming 2007

SoCal High School Sports Reeling from Wildfires

Homecoming and Steak Knives

Snake Dance in the Southwest