A Modest Proposal: Six-Man College Football

G.F. Central Intros
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Northwest College in Powell, Wyoming (my employer) is proposing the creation of two soccer teams for the next academic year. The following is the introduction to the proposal sent out to the college community last week.

We are proposing to begin an intercollegiate soccer program—for both men and women—at Northwest College. Such a program will have a positive impact on enrollment and will provide additional opportunities for extracurricular activity for our students.

We plan to begin the soccer program with modest scholarship and staff budgets. As the cost/benefit analysis at the end of this proposal shows, the program can be implemented with a net positive impact on our overall budget. And although our analysis does not include revenue from so-called “FTE funding,” when future funding allocation models are implemented (that will take these enrollments into consideration), NWC’s budget will certainly be positively affected.

NWC Paul Prestwich has invited feedback on this subject which I was happy to do.

Dr. Prestwich,

I’ll admit I’m not a big soccer fan except when the World Cup rolls around every four years, so the following response to the college’s intercollegiate soccer program proposal shouldn’t come as a surprise.

The proposal for two intercollegiate soccer teams seems a pretty safe thing to do, perhaps too safe and thus unimaginative in my mind. I predict it won’t stir much interest, but no doubt will be an addition that looks good on paper. Nevertheless, I don’t see having two soccer teams being much different than having two basketball teams... pardon the yawn here, but I’ll admit basketball doesn’t melt my butter either. Nevertheless, soccer—like basketball—is a great game, but not nearly as popular as basketball assuring that only the purest of soccer fans will have the stomach for two teams in a college/community of this size—and I doubt there are that many in Powell, Wyoming.

Several years ago I proposed a Wyoming college six-man football conference that was sent around to the state’s other colleges as well. And even though this idea has gone out and returned empty-handed, I thought that in light of the college’s soccer proposal, now is a good time to state my disappointment in the leadership of the state community colleges and their inability or lack of interest in starting what could be the nation’s first collegiate six-man football league—talk about turning heads and interest far beyond our state border. I’ll venture to say that such pioneering/innovative spirit is just too bold and requires too much imagination for those who are in the position of entertaining such “wild” ideas here in the state that talks the talk of being a “cowboy,” but seldom walks the walk.

Initiating a men’s six-man football team at the same time a women’s soccer team would surely make the women’s soccer program more viable, more unique and thus, more appealing—just like women’s volleyball.

Close Game
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

There are students from all over the Intermountain West who grow up playing six and eight-man football (Montana, Idaho, Colorado, Washington, Oregon, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma and Wyoming as of this year)—most never get a chance to play at the collegiate level. I can’t help but think of the unique recruiting angle this would provide for the college as well. Imagine, going after the standouts of the smaller schools instead of the biggest kids from the biggest schools/programs and all the baggage that comes with many of them. Surely there would be students hailing from more traditional eleven-man programs interested as well.

I suspect you and many others reading this have already chalked it up to another one of my zany ideas, and we all know I’m nothing but trouble anyway. Nevertheless, I thought this was an opportune time to throw my proposal out there one more time.

Even more outrageous, how about men’s six-man football and women’s rugby?

Innovation and imagination have never been easy—especially in this part of the world. Long live “Yellowstone College!” (a.k.a. “Northwest College”)

Weather, The Home Field... Next

Post-Game Group Shot
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

OK, it can snow now.

Another football season has come to a close and I’ve managed to not get myself stuck or stranded in the middle of nowhere as the result of travelling to some far-off gridiron game.

And though this past championship weekend in Montana was no tropical paradise, the snow stayed in the mountains even if the wind blew its cold across the football fields. In Denton, the sun was even shining, although wooly hats were still the preferred attire.

I found myself reminiscing about those warm-weather championship games of the past: Centerville 1999, Cokeville 2001, and Hysham 2007. I’ve been pretty lucky. Chalk it up to the benefits of global warming.

Beyond the fairly hospitable weather, I splashed out this final weekend of travel, overnighting at Big Timber’s Grand Hotel and then retreating to Lewistown’s Yogo Inn after Saturday’s shootout in Denton.

Lahr Unloads
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

No Place Like Home?
So much for the home-field advantage—unless you’re a Huntley Project fan. Of the five Montana title games, only the Red Devils playing at home were victorious. Helena Capital, Billings Central, Wibaux and Denton all played host to someone who ended up wrecking their parties. I can only imagine that there must have been some pretty jovial bus rides as the victorious visitors made their way home on Saturday night.

What’s Next?
Although the football season is over as far as I’m concerned (OK, part of it remains as long as the Griz are chugging along), it still lives on here as I plan to tie up a few loose ends that I didn’t get to address this past season (or perhaps previous seasons). It would be nice if two to three postings per month materialized, but I’m not making any promises on football’s 26th day of December. I realize that many readers will lose interest as other sports heat up. However, upon their return sometime next August, they’ll find a backlog of postings to catch up on—priming them for the new season.

What’s on next year’s agenda for this small town football fan? Wibaux summer practice (if they’ll have me. I hear its tougher than Marine Corps boot camp), Charlo, Circle, Medicine Lake-Froid, Lincoln, more Wyoming six-man, and, with any luck, another visit or two into Idaho.

And this: Can we get some of Wyoming’s new six-man teams to play at least one Montana team during the regular season?

Which teams will be “up” next year and which will likely have a “rebuilding” year?

Go Griz (and their small town football contingency)...

Purple Passion and the Wibaux Standard

No Photoshop Here
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It was a day to fight for the purple as both Sheridan and Charlo claim purple as their dominant school colour. Everywhere you looked during the Montana Class C eight-man quarterfinal there was purple—which made me think fondly of those select (but few) Stanford fans way back in 2005 who throttled me for wearing purple wind pants to one of their games on this same blog. Too bad they couldn’t have attended this clash of purples between the Panthers and Vikings.

Panther personalities
I continually feel a need to apologize to the kind folks in Sheridan these days for neglecting to cover any of their home games until just this past weekend. Having been to other gridirons like Sunburst, Noxon, Scobey and Ekalaka, I can’t stand on the leg that says Sheridan has always been too far for me to drive. And even if their home games are at night (my least favorite environment to photograph), I confess to once driving all the way to Eureka for a Lion Friday night game. I suppose it has something to do with seeing the Panthers on the road three previous times—Alberton, Big Sandy and Sunburst and coming away from those games feeling as if I had encountered everything that was Sheridan.

I’ll admit it’s my loss for not having attended a Sheridan game years earlier given the warm reception I received this past week. Sheridan principal Jory Thompson approached me before the game and ask me if I was that “small town football guy” (or something like that in so many words) and informed me while we chatted that there was a complimentary Polish dog from their concession stand waiting for me whenever I wanted it.

Quarterback's Dad
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Then there was Rob Crippen, the father of Sheridan quarterback Casey Crippen. He was working the sidelines keeping stats of the day’s game and also tagged me regarding my work while inviting me over to his house after the game for tacos and the Griz game on TV. That kind of hospitality is downright bold and somewhat uncommon, but if it’s ever going to happen to a stranger, you can be sure it will happen at one of these small town high school football games like Sheridan. I suppose even bolder than Crippen’s invite is that I showed up at his home after I secured my motel room.

Speaking of bold, Sheridan defensive coordinator Clint Layng is right out of the movie Top Gun when he’s sending in signals to his defensive unit on the field. Watch him long enough and he’ll convince you that he directs fighter planes for takeoff on an aircraft carrier during the weekdays.

Wibaux… not your usual playoff game
Following the Panther’s 36-20 victory over Charlo, my ears perked up when I heard Layng tell the team that he’s always wanted to play Wibaux. One hundred years ago, that would have been the talk of a gun fighter. Which found me thinking how (over the years) Wibaux has somewhat, informally (at least in my tiny brain) become the standard of measure in Montana Class C eight-man football. I mean, there’s few conversations around Montana about this class of football that Wibaux doesn’t come up in the conversation sooner or later. Might as well paint a target on every Wibaux player’s chest. Even in previous years when another team has defeated Wibaux in a quarterfinal, semifinal or in the finals, they probably take more pride in defeating Wibaux than anything that followed.

Once I had the opportunity to talk to the starting line-up of Drummond’s 2005 championship team and when asked to pinpoint their toughest opponent in their three-year domination, they all agreed it was the 2004 semifinal game with the Longhorns. Despite winning 30-0, one Trojan recalled, “Yeah, Wibaux really brought the wood.”

Horns Relax
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

And so, the Montana Class C eight-man semi-finals are decided again—reminding me of a popular play that keeps on showing year after year. Mind you, I’m not complaining, I’m just saying (as they say). It’s Centerville, Drummond, Wibaux and Sheridan—with Sheridan the freshest of this tested line-up. Should we be surprised? Each is undefeated and ranked number one from their respected division.

I started thinking about how the world might be today if none of these teams advanced to the semifinals. Imagine if Joliet, Twin Bridges, Charlo and Fort Benton advanced instead. I know there are several signs that signify the end of time—this semifinal scenario would surely have been one of them.

Back in August I was confident the addition of Ennis and Fort Benton would really shake things up—given their newcomer status in stepping down from Class B eleven-man play. And less we forget, it wasn’t that long ago that the Longhorns of Fort Benton won the Class B state title in 2002 and were runner-up in 2004 while Ennis secured their own Class C titles in 1978 and 1982. Well, Fort Benton almost pulled it off until they tangled with those other Longhorns way out/back east.

Of course, there’s the riddle of the Superior Bobcats—formally Class C for several years, then they moved up to Class B for several years after, followed by a short two-year stint back down to Class C—just long enough to defeat Wibaux in the title game last year. They moved back to Class B (again) this year and probably haven’t stopped talking about beating Wibaux in last year’s title game.

Ah yes, Wibaux, the standard of measure—beyond Class C perhaps.

Joliet Steps Up... Somehow

Anthem Line Up
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Typically reports on the details of a small town high school football game usually don't appear here, but today’s shootout between Joliet and Scobey might merit such a departure. But above all else, it truly was a picture-perfect day in Joliet for a football game, period.

I’ll be the first to admit it, I had my doubts about Joliet. And after two early turnovers in the first quarter that lead to Scobey touchdowns, it started to look like a blow-out. Honestly I wasn’t too surprised to see these early events unfold. After all, Scobey has been a rich-in-tradition football team that has a state title or two in their trophy case, while Joliet hasn’t been one of the stronger teams since I-don’t-know-how-long.

Nevertheless, the J-Hawks success seemed to improve with the appearance of the sun because once it came out, Joliet sprung to life.

I heard more than one J-Hawk fan say, “They’re a slow-starting team.” Indeed they were—almost slow in starting like the-first-game-of-the-year slow, where very basic mistakes are the norm.

Yet, despite Joliet’s turnovers, Scobey managed to make a few of their own and the J-Hawks slowly clawed their way back into the game. Late in the second quarter, Joliet managed to take the lead, but with time running out on the last play of the half, Scobey found an open receiver who in turn found the end zone giving the Spartans an abbreviated halftime lead.

Another oddity about this particular game, two safeties were recorded—one by each team. That doesn’t happen very often, does it?

Open Field
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Given the number of blunders and turnovers, several times I found myself saying, “Whoever wins this game won’t stand a chance in Drummond next week.” Yet, I suspect this year’s Drummond lineup isn’t composed of immortals like their teams earlier in the decade. As it turned out, the Trojans may have struggled a bit themselves in their 38-20 victory over Stanford. So, who knows? I counted out Joliet once already and they proved me wrong, maybe they can do it again.

On another note: one thing is known for sure in this year’s eight-man semi-finals, the Longhorns will be playing. And next week’s quarter-final showdown between the Longhorns of Wibaux and the Longhorns of Fort Benton will determine which one. Yeee-Haaa!

Now's The Time

Sangrey Crosses Over
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Go ahead, pick a town—make it one of the smaller towns in Montana and treat yourself to all of the charm it offers along with the friendly individuals that call it home this Saturday—Halloween. While you’re at it, consider one of those listed below where you can double your fun by taking in a classic small town football game.

Southbound
I’m heading just up to the road to Joliet, Montana to watch an eight-man game where the J-Hawks take on the Scobey Spartans who are making a pretty significant road trip from way up in the northeast corner of Montana. This trip will be nothing for the Spartans given last year when they travelled all the way to Superior, Montana—less than 50 miles from the Idaho border.

If Joliet is a bit too far from your home, consider these other towns where you can watch an eight-man or six-man playoff game.

Way Up North
Starting up north there is Centerville (not far from Great Falls) where the Miners are hosting the Victor Vikings. The Miners are always tough at home, this week will not be an exception. One of the things I love about Montana football playoffs, because the state is so big, often two schools will face each other for the first time in history. That could be the case in this match-up.

The Big Sandy Pioneers will be welcoming the Bridger Scouts in a rematch of last year’s six-man playoff game. The massive grain elevators adjacent to the gridiron make for a classic small town backdrop. I wonder if U.S. Senator John Tester will be in attendance cheering on his hometown team.

There’s also a game in Charlo—a nice detour on your way to Flathead Lake. The Vikings of Charlo will be facing the co-op of small schools from Power, Dutton and Brady. I have yet to attend a game in Charlo.

If history is your thing, you might want to swing down to Fort Benton (not far from Great Falls too) to visit the bridge over the Missouri River and the gravesite of the dog that defined “man’s best friend,” Shep. While your there, the Longhorns will be hosting their first 8-man football playoff game against Arlee. It wasn’t too many years ago that Fort Benton won the Class B 11-man title.

How about an out-of-the-way location like the little town of Denton where their six-man football team is undefeated and hosting Terry? Check out the hardware store in Denton—they have it all, packed tightly into the space of a Dairy Queen.

If you live in Great Falls and want that small town feeling without really leaving the comforts of the big city, I suspect the six-man game between Great Falls Central and the Custer-Melstone Cougars might be the ticket.

Go West
Western Montana, are you kidding!? If you’ve never been to Drummond, this is your chance. A football game at Drummond should be on any football junkie’s bucket list. Another strong Trojan team will be hosting the Wolves from Stanford (and Geyser). Stanford seems to have all the luck these past few years—sooner or later they face Drummond in a playoff game, and... well, they’d probably just assume not.

Purple Camo Brigade
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Down in Sheridan, the purple-clad Panthers will be entertaining the also purple-clad Cowboys all the way from Culbertson-Bainville near the North Dakota border. Many of the Sheridan fans will be decked out in their special-order, purple camouflage clothing—and if you ask nicely, they’ll even let you take their picture.

Perhaps you’re thinking about a trip through Yellowstone. If that’s the case you can double your money because the Wolverines of West Yellowstone are hosting a six-man game against the North Star Knights consisting of players from the tiny towns of Rudyard, Kremlin and Gildford (along Montana’s Hi-Line).

Last but not least is Lima, Montana—down on the Idaho border with the Bitterroot Mountains serving as a majestic backdrop. Rather than Lima High School hosting the game, the home team will be the Clark County Bobcats (of Dubois, Idaho—that’s right an Idaho team in the running for the Montana State Championship). The Cats are taking on the Reed Point-Rapelje Renegades in Lima because all Montana playoff games must be played in Montana and Lima is just over the border from Dubois.

Back East

Prairie Eruption
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Speaking of bucket lists, the same is true about a game in Wibaux—the Beast from the East. The Longhorns have one of the most successful active coaches year after year in Jeff Bertelsen and are hosting the Harlowton Engineers. After the game, I recommend a stop at the Rainbow Club for a cold one and old reruns of past Wibaux State Championship games.

Further south along the North Dakota border you’ll find Ekalaka (sometimes it’s just fun to say “Ekalaka”) way down in the southeast corner of the state and there the Bulldogs of Carter County will be hosting the Falcons of Twin Bridges. It’ll be along bus ride for the Falcons from the scenic Ruby Valley whether they win or lose.

Where the Yellowstone River turns north and approaches the Missouri River you’ll find the sleepy town of Savage where the Warriors will be hosting Augusta. The Elks have advanced deep in the six-man playoffs the last couple of years and put together a good following of fans no matter how far they have to travel.

A little farther west and north and truly out of the way is the town of Winifred. The Red Raiders are facing another isolated town’s football team in the Jordan Mustangs—maybe we should call this the “Obscurity Bowl.” Both of these teams just moved down from eight-man play in the last year and have made the adjustment without a hitch.

If Billings is home for you, this weekend might be your excuse to finally venture to Hysham. The Pirates are undefeated and their fans know how to throw a pre-game tailgate party. The Tigers of Geraldine and their stellar six-man football program are in town to take on heavily-favored Hysham. But, one should never count out Geraldine Head Coach Rod Tweet and any team he brings to a football game.

There you have it, 16 different towns (and all small with the exception of one) offering 16 different games—all starting at 1:00 on Saturday. I’d like to see them all, but there’s something very pure and honest about choosing only one and going for it.

Idaho... Barely

Mullan Townscape
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I love vertical towns like Mullan and Wallace, Idaho. By “vertical” I mean that they are located in narrow valleys with mountains rising up from every direction. Such towns resemble a childrens’ illustrated book and always feel a bit more cozy than other places in the world.

Both Mullan and Wallace have a population under 1,000 and are only 10 miles apart. One can find a good cup of coffee in either town and both communities field eight-man football teams that play each other twice every season.

This past week I travelled to Mullan to sit in on their game against another rival; the Clark Fork Wampus Cats. My travelling companion, Slim, and I went round and round on what a Wampus Cat might look like and how it came into existence. Slim's theory had to do with the mingling of spieces—a Wombat (a burrowing plant-eating Australian marsupial that resembles a small bear with short legs) and a Bobcat (a small North American cat species with a barred and spotted coat and a short tail). According to Slim, this cross-breed of marsupial and feline is man-eating to boot. My theory on the Wampus Cat was more streamlined than Slim's. Basically I placed it in the same category as the Wyoming Jackelope—a mythical animal cross between an antelope and jackrabbit). After a quick search on the web, it appears my theory is probably closer to the truth although I never would have guessed six legs.

I don't know what the total mileage was, but it was about a nine-hour drive between home (Powell, Wyoming) and the two Northern Idaho communities—which was more than enough time to discuss the evolutionary origins of the Wampus Cat.

We started our Mullan trip on Thursday afternoon and despite the dismal weather forecast, we made it to the Capri Motel in Uptown Butte without incident sometime after 8:00 p.m. that evening.

Friday morning—the day of the game in Mullan—we rose around 5:30 to about five inches of fresh snow and extreme cold conditions in Butte. It was difficult to imagine attending a football game at that point. To dampen our spirits even more, we were greeted with disappointment when we drove to the M&M bar and grill for breakfast to find it had been closed and up for sale. The M&M is a Butte landmark—famous for its late-night fights and delicous but greasy breakfasts the next day that includes a red beer or two—tomato juice and beer, the perfect cure for a Butte hangover. Last year while campaigning for his Presidency, Barack Obama visited the M&M, but I’m not in the know as to if he had a red beer.

Mullan Teacher Gary Strong
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

After gathering ourselves from the devastating sight of the boarded up M&M, Slim and I discovered Annie's Café over on Front Street. Although there were no red beers served, the breakfast was equal to any M&M breakfast I've had over the years while Annie herself had ample attitude to chase off our M&M blues.

When we slipped over Lookout Pass that defines the Montana-Idaho border, we gained an hour of time leaving us with almost three hours to explore Mullan before game time.

Waiting for us in Mullan was Slim's friend Charleton from nearby Sand Point. "Chuck" is a coffee/espresso hound who drives a Volkswagon van equipped with a stove and bed and occasionally carries around a Leica camera that doesn't get used nearly enough.

With the extra time on hand, I walked the streets of Mullan looking for images of a great small town which included a visit to the high school to chat with principal Tom Durbin and a couple of Mullan teachers. Meanwhile Slim and Chuck located and secured the local coffee shop—The Bitterroot Coffee House. What a great find that turned out to be. I'll just say here that if you're passing through Mullan someday, make the Bitterroot Coffee House your first stop.

Mullan Gridscape
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It’s hard to miss the Lucky Friday Mine on the east side of Mullan. It is one of several operations owned and operated by Hecla Mining and is a deep underground silver, lead and zinc mine. There are over 250 employees working at the Lucky Friday and it’s no surprise that the mine employs many residents of Mullan. Check out their website and the video on the Lucky Friday. I hope to return next year and photograph former Mullan players who are now working for the Lucky Friday—assuming some are there.

Then, there was the game. The Mullan Tigers hosting the Clark Fork Wampus Cats. For this eight-man football showdown, Mullan dressed out ten players while Clark Fork fielded thirteen. Unlike Montana eight-man football, Idaho eight-man games are played on a 100-yard field giving it a six-man feel thanks to the extra width and length of field.

Mullan sophomore quarterback Casey McKinnon and Clark Fork senior running back Chance Nesbitt provided plenty of the offensive fireworks for both teams, but it was Mullan who notched the victory when the game ended that day.

Even though snow was falling as we crossed over Lookout Pass, none found its way to the gridiron that day. Nevertheless, as the sun sank lower into the southwestern sky, the cold worked its way to my bones and by the end of the game, all I could think about was finding the warm comfort of a motel room in nearby Wallace.

Propping Up The Pronghorns

Pronghorn Herd
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Even though they are athletic enough and have enough numbers to be competitive, the Farson-Eden Pronghorns may not win any games in Wyoming’s first season of six-man football—but, I still like them and I hope they prove me wrong.

Their lackluster season of wins versus losses is only a reflection of the team’s deficiency in football experience as every member is playing their first year of football—ever. And sadly, but not surprisingly, it shows. They struggle with the basics such as snapping the ball to the quarterback, hand-offs, tackling, passing and catching the ball—even running in football gear seems a bit clumsy. In short, they are one awkward looking team when they are competing on the gridiron, which is a bit odd because when they take the field, they look as physical and capable as any other team.

I still like ’em.

My hope for Farson-Eden is that the winless season staring them down now doesn’t discourage them nor their community. Farson-Eden represents everything I love about small town high school football in America. They are the poster child of this niche culture in my mind’s eye. Their community is remote and small while their old football field behind the school is reminiscent of a Field of Dreams. Although they did not play any games on the old field this year (they retrofitted the city park baseball field), I hope the school and community consider sprucing up the old gridiron with its south end zone vista gazing into the big empty of the high desert that surrounds Farson.

Steve Amrine
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

If they haven’t already, I’d like to believe that the Farson-Eden teams of the future will take their mascot name to heart in considering the Pronghorn Antelope’s attribute of speed in a game that typically anoints the fastest rather than the biggest as victor. [For those who might not be in the know: the North American Pronghorn Antelope—Antilocapra americana—is the fastest animal in North America.] With this in mind, I can’t think of a more perfect mascot name for a six-man football team playing in the American West. Therefore, beyond winning, the Pronghorns of Farson-Eden should make it their mission to be known as the fastest in Wyoming’s assembly of six-man football teams. (On a related note, given the great numbers of antelope throughout Wyoming, I’m surprised there aren’t more schools that have adopted the Pronghorn as their mascot.)

Everyone in America likes a winner, but Americans love a come-from-behind, down-and-out, Rocky Balboa-type winner even more. As Wyoming six-man football establishes itself, I hope some version of that script finds its way to the Farson-Eden Pronghorns.

Postscript: As long as I’m here, I’d like to extend my apologies and sympathies to Farson-Eden’s Tom Smith. Although he is one of their most athletic players, in the two Pronghorn games I’ve attended, he has sustained game-ending injuries both times—a badly sprained ankle at home against Guernsey-Sunrise and a separated shoulder in Meeteetse. I think my presence is bad luck for them.

Exchange Students Take To The Gridiron

98386 square miles, one game

This is from the Oregonian newspaper and a special series titled "Beyond the Sidelines."

Ennis, Montana: Fly Fishing to Football

EnnisScape
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

To many people, Ennis, Montana means one thing: fly fishing on the Madison River—one of America’s greatest fishing holes. And one pass through this town of 800 permanent residents, you’ll find an assortment of businesses that cater to all things that are fly fishing and a bit more.

I’m ignorant about what or who is the runner-up to fly fishing in Ennis, but if someone told me it was football, I’d believe them given the number of “Mustang Football” signs posted throughout the community.

Starting this year, the Ennis High School football team finds itself back in familiar territory—Class C eight-man football play. “How familiar,” you might ask? In 1978 and 1982 the Mustangs won the Class C state title and in 1983 they were the runner up. Their football reputation might not be up there with the likes of Wibaux or Absarokee, but it is undoubtedly reputable.

Like Superior and Absarokee, Ennis is one of those schools that walks the pesky and fine line defining Class B eleven-man and Class C eight-man. Pesky in that the goal post and football field must be reconfigured each time there’s a switch between these two states of play.

Not that I’ve been to every small town football field in Montana or Wyoming, but I have seen more than my share. Up until my visit to Ennis this last week, I had declared Harlowton as the best lit field for Friday nights. However, as long as Ennis is playing Class C, they are the undisputed champion when it comes to playing under the lights. This is one beautiful facility. And when you stand at the top of the hill overlooking the gridiron, you can watch the setting sun (coming from behind you) reflect off of the high peaks of Madison Mountain Range just over the trees that surround the field. If the Rocky Mountains extending from Canada down into New Mexico were a football team, then the Madison section would be one of the lineman.

Hornet Carrier
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

In past writings I’ve always downplayed that “Friday Night Lights” thing, declaring that once it’s dark and the floodlights come up, visually speaking, every football field is the same and thus looses its sense of place. That was somewhat challenged when I was watching the game between Ennis and White Sulphur Springs—the Mustang’s homecoming to boot. Because after my intoxication with the sublime wore off and the sun was long gone, I realized there was a great football game playing out in front of me—one of those games that’s played so hard by both sides, you hate to see either one lose.

In the context of this project, I suppose there’s no need in mentioning who won or who lost that night between Ennis and White Sulphur Springs. What I do need to state here is that sometimes there is magic in the game itself—when two teams are so perfectly matched up, you really have no idea how the game will end. There are also times when there is magic in the setting of the game—the wide open spaces beyond the gridiron or the mountains that tower above. This second option is common and rather unique to Wyoming and Montana. But on those rare occasions, the magic of the setting and the game will marry and you’ll find yourself wondering how you got to be so lucky—as I did in Ennis, Montana the other night.

Kaycee tunes-up for first year

Kickoff Hoopla

It Begins...
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

As an “official” high school football blogger, I was sent an email about an upcoming movie dedicated to this year’s participants of high school football. The movie is titled Red Zone ’09 and will debut (for one night only) on August 25th in 460 movie theaters around the country. It features Tony Dungy and an entire line-up of other famed NFL players and coaches.

Here are the links...

Red Zone ’09 Promo • Red Zone Trailer

After watching the promotional material on the web, I fantasized about the tiny movie house in Rudyard, Montana as one of the 460 theaters where Red Zone ’09 premiers. Rudyard is the home of the North Star Knights—a school and community located along Montana’s remote Hi-Line, not far from the Canadian border and where six-man football is the game.

And after watching Red Zone ’09, I started wondering about how the players and coaches of North Star would respond to (what appears to be) the ramped-up production.

They might dig it, or they might think to themselves, “Wow, what far-away world plays that version of of high school football?”

Footnote: The Hi-Line Theater in Rudyard is not one of the 460 theaters that will carry Red Zone ’09—I checked. Only theaters in Bozeman and Helena will carry the movie—about 300 and 200 miles respectively from Rudyard.

Explaining Football, Explaining America?

Murchinson Field
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

After reading How Football Explains America by ESPN's notorious sports reporter Sal Paolantonio, I couldn't help but wonder why the book wasn't titled How America Explains Its Version of Football. Or better yet (but, probably too long of a title), How American History Explains Gridiron Football.

Even on the inside of the dust jacket, one of the paragraphs read, "How Football Explains America explains how football was influenced by Davy Crockett, John Coltrane, Jackie Robinson, and Douglas MacArthur. What? Say that again. If football explains America Sal, explain to me why we're not reading about how football influenced Davy Crockett and company?

I suppose Sal sees America and football like the simple math regarding the commutative laws of addition where If 2+3=5, than 3+2=5 as well.

The selection of the book's title may have only been a matter of coming up with a catchy title for his new book, but I still think it's not very telling of the volume's contents. How Football Became Our National Pastime would probably be a better title in my mind—and it says so in 30-point Helvetica Bold type on the backside of the dust jacket!

OK, enough about a book's title.

For the most part, this particular read was worth the purchase. I learned several things about the game's evolution that I didn't know about before diving in. For example, did you know that the concept of an offensive huddle was actually conceived by Gallaudet University—a small school with a roster of deaf players?

Nevertheless, the book is flawed in all of its conjecture. Paolantonio takes great liberties regarding the paths taken by football pioneers like Walter Camp and Amos Alonzo Stagg—as if he had uncovered the missing diaries of these men and what they were thinking in the deep recesses of their minds when they conceived and developed their rules, plays and protocol of the game in its infancy.

Here is but one of several examples regarding the author's use of conjecture and unfounded conclusions the reader will stumble upon: In a discussion about Stagg and his adoption of the huddle, Paolantonio quotes the famed University of Chicago coach, "To me the coaching profession is one of the noblest and far-reaching in building manhood. Not to drink, not to gamble, not to smoke, not to swear, to be fair-minded, to deal justly, to be honest in thinking and square in dealing, not to bear personal malice or harbor hatred against rivals."

From Stagg's quote, Paolantonio comes up with this: "Thoughtful, pious, and righteous, Stagg brought innovations to football as an attempt to bring Christian fellowship to the game. (This is a reference to Stagg's desire to become a minister since he was enrolled as a divinity student at Yale from 1885 to 1889.) He wanted his players to play under control, to control the pace, the course, and the conduct of what had been a game of mass movement that often broke out into fisticuffs."

Is it possible that Stagg simply wanted his players to only be more Christian-like?

More conjecture appears to follow in the next paragraph where Paolantonio makes the leap from the Christian values that Stagg wanted to instill all the way to huddle mechanics: "Stagg viewed the huddle as a vital aspect of helping to teach sportsmanship. He viewed the huddle as a kind of religious congregation on the field, a place where the players could, if you will, minister to each other, make a plan, and promise to keep faith in that plan and one another."

One would think the author could present a more direct quote about the huddle if such is really true. Perhaps Paolantonio has channelled Stagg through some kind of football locker room séance.

And if that weren't enough, Paolantonio hits a Patriotic chord in the next paragraph that almost made me place my hand over heart as I read it: "What is the huddle but a meeting, a place for the citizenry to gather and regroup? And what is more American than that? Our founding fathers put it right in the Bill of Rights: Congress shall make no law prohibiting 'the right of the people peaceably to assemble.'"

As if the idea of assembly was conceived only in the democracy of America...

Perhaps the most compelling in Paolantonio's How Football Explains America is his argument that Manifest Destiny is the primary motive behind Gridiron (aka American) Football's deviation from soccer and rugby. It's a good idea well worth discussion, but I don't find any of it to be more substantive or compelling than my own theories about the game's evolution. In fact, what I found most annoying was his insistence to belittle the global games of soccer and rugby and other American team sports like basketball and baseball.

Net Ball Action
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I tried to imagine the response (and disdain) of a sports writer from England, New Zealand or South Africa who covers rugby or soccer reading Paolantonio when he says, "Go ahead, you try going to a rugby game and writing about it. Soccer? Ninety minutes of whatever and then maybe one goal scored by accident. Tough to create a coherent narrative out of that."

I don't know about everyone else, but I find plenty of "coherent narratives" about rugby at www.allblacks.com.

It was this kind of rhetoric throughout the book that I found myself wondering how any non-American would digest this material without contempt for the "land of the free and home of the brave."

Yet, in Paolantonio's defense, he warns the reader in the beginning of the book, "So, please, by all means, check your political correctness at the gate."

Ah yes, the true spirit of the Bush Administration. How dated the book seems already. I wonder how the 2nd edition might read after four or eight years of Obama in the White House. After all, I believe that it is America that really explains football.

A Championship Sabbatical

King Of West Yellowstone
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Not since 2002 have I missed a Wyoming or Montana high school championship football game—that was the year that I dedicated myself to following the Belfry Bats to everyone of their games, including their playoff game in Geraldine. Once they were eliminated from the playoffs, I thought it was only fair that I removed myself from the season as well.

This year, my excuse for missing a title game isn't as convincing, certainly not as clear.

Because I've been to plenty of big games in Wibaux and Geraldine over the years, I'd guessed the scenery in either location wouldn't be too different with the exception of uniform colours and fans (from a photographic perspective). Yet, the football lover in me found Superior at Wibaux too good to be true—it was the ultimate in "East Meets West" because when it comes to Montana, there aren't too many places further west of Superior while Wibaux is the last stop in Eastern Montana before crossing into North Dakota. Despite my reluctance to hit the road, I found myself restless during mid-week. Wide awake at 2:30 a.m., I was considering the idea of driving to Laurel and loitering along Interstate 90 in an effort to capture the Superior team bus crossing the vastness of Eastern Montana with its small entourage of fans and parents in tow.

Highwood at Geraldine tempted me too. Earlier this season, I had received my wish to witness and photograph a typical Highwood vs. Geraldine shootout (read about it here) and so, like a fisherman who had caught the ultimate fish, I didn't want to be greedy by casting my line back into the water. Besides, there are those image-rich photographic moments when one should simply put away their camera and let someone else have a go at it. The same held true of the game in Wibaux.

Even if I had decided to make another title day pilgrimage, not long after leaving the semi-final game in Superior last week, the early signs of a head and chest cold surfaced and by mid-week, I was completely inundated. Without fail it seems, every year I get one of these during the season, but never this late. Undoubtedly it's a good thing I hadn't planned on going anywhere, otherwise I would have really been either bummed or just plain miserable.

Despite the lingering cold symptoms, it was weird Saturday morning to be up and about, putzing around the house at my leisure with nothing to do and nowhere to go—not on the way to Geraldine or not in a motel in Miles City preparing for the remaining drive to Wibaux.

I'm already looking forward to next year's offering of six-man football in Wyoming and all its new photographic venues such as Farson, Kaycee and Baggs. No doubt, my travels into Montana will likely suffer, but given that Montana's playoffs usually run a week longer than Wyoming, I'll probably be in one of Montana's Class C towns at this same time next year.

Smash-Mouth Euphoria

Picture Perfect Kick
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It was another one of those playoff weekends when there are heaps of potentially well-contested games all over the place and I'm faced with a gridiron location to photograph where I've never travelled.

I had considered travelling to Superior for the Class C eight-man game with Absarokee, but rain in the forecast made me think twice—and one doesn't think twice when a long road trip like that comes up.

Games in Denton and a return trip to Bridger were calling me too, but a nagging little conscious kept on reminding me of the Wyoming 2A semi-final game in Big Horn (near Sheridan) against Lusk.

I'd visited Big Horn's gridiron a couple summers ago and found it right up there with Tongue River's old field in terms of a landscape setting for football. But many BHHS games are played on Thursday and Friday afternoons (no lights) which make it logistically impossible for me to get over there for a game. So along comes a playoff game at Big Horn on a Saturday—how could I live with myself if I passed it up?

Holding On
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Despite the overcast skies, the setting didn't disappoint albeit the game was one of those typical 11-man defensive slugfests. Only one touchdown was notched the entire game—Big Horn 6, Lusk 0. Surely if one is a fan of either team, it was a very exciting game.

Walking back to my car after the game, I wondered what fireworks I missed up in Montana's Class C ranks of eight-man and six-man. I thought about all the snobby, armchair quarterbacks in the world that go on and on about how superior eleven-man football is to eight-man or six-man. I was ready to take them to task.

In the early morning when I stopped at the Maverick store in Bridger, I'd heard about one of the Montana six-man headlines from the night before. The employees there told me about Reed Point-Rapelje downing Hysham on the Pirate's home field! What other big news went down while Big Horn and Lusk smash-mouthed each other to a near stalemate?

With Sheridan in my rear-view mirror, I fantasized how the game would have gone if Big Horn and Lusk had played an 8-man game. It didn't seem to fantastic considering each team fielded between 30 to 35 players. Those were the same numbers posted by several Montana eight-man teams like Absarokee or Drummond. Still, the game would have been close, but I doubt it would have ended in such a low score.

Since I've never been to Superior for a game, next week I'm looking real hard at getting my eight-man fix there—regardless of the long drive or any bad weather.

Living Up To The Rivalry

End Zone View
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The first time I witnessed the battle of Choteau County (aka Highwood vs. Geraldine in six-man football) was on a cold and rain-soaked Friday night at Highwood in 2004. The Mountaineers were loaded with talent that year and easily defeated Geraldine in the last game of the regular season and went on to win another state title.

I remember walking away from that game with my soaked camera gear thinking that it wasn't exactly what I expected when considering past games I 'd heard about (or imagined) between these two schools—games that were played under a bright, blue Montana sky and were fiercely contested.

This past weekend I decided to give this contest another try—especially after hearing the game was scheduled for Saturday afternoon at Highwood despite their well-lit gridiron that catered to Friday nights.

Jump BallOriginally uploaded by mdt1960

With the exception of a blustery and continuous wind, the 2008 Geraldine-Highwood grudge match lived up to its billing in my head. Both teams were clearly talented and not until Highwood depleted themselves of downs deep in Geraldine territory with seconds remaining on the clock did the fans in attendance realize the game's outcome.

So, congratulations to the Tigers of Geraldine in their 22-18 victory over Highwood and congratulations to both teams for securing home-field playoff berths. Most of all, congratulations to both teams for living up to their great rivalry.

Having travelled to Texas earlier this year to see how the Lone Star state does six-man football, I truly believe in my heart—given the gridiron settings of both Geraldine and Highwood— that I can say, "You still haven't seen six-man football until you've seen a Highwood-Geraldine game."

The Elements of Football

Little Lambeau
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

If this past weekend's three football offerings had to be summarized in one word only, it would be "winter."

With only a third of October in the record books, an early winter storm moved in late Thursday evening and dominated the scenario in the three-town, two-state itinerary I threw together. First there were the snow flurries and blustery cold wind in Burlington and Byron, Wyoming. Saturday afternoon in Fromberg, Montana was the cherry on top of the sundae. I wondered if I would even complete the typical one-hour drive as the falling snow went from light flurries to heavy flakes between my home in Powell and the gridiron in Fromberg. By the time I reached the Falcons' home field, there was about five inches of wet snow covering the turf—complete with coaches and other staffers who were hand-shovelling the snow covering the yard line and sideline markings.

Beginning Friday afternoon in Burlington, it was a battle of 1A powerhouses (the smallest schools) between the Burlington Huskies and the Panthers of Cokeville. Given Cokeville's extreme location (on the Idaho border), it's usually a long road trip for their away games. I'm guessing the travel to Burlington was easily over six hours. Despite such disadvantages, the Panthers are always in the hunt of the 1A state title—often the victor. In contrast, Burlington has struggled over the years when it comes to games with Cokeville, but on this past Friday the difference was Burlington's successful PAT conversion following their only touchdown while Cokeville came up empty-handed after their single touchdown.

Cokeville Hoods
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

* * * * *

Typically I don't drive home after Friday night football games, but Rocky Mountain High School in nearby Byron, Wyoming is the one exception because it is only 15 miles from home. It's been 11 years since I first attended a football game at Rocky—where this modest project all started. On this particular night, I was curious to see Wind River play again after attending one of their home games earlier this season.

In what was probably attributed to the foul weather conditions, attendance was poor compared to other games I've attended in the past. Most notable however is little has changed in this small football venue—especially the lights. They seem dimmer than ever. From a photographer's perspective, I'm guessing Rocky's lights are at least three f-stops dimmer than the average illuminated gridiron. Imagine going to a well-lit football field only wearing sunglasses.

Lights Of Byron
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Forty non-quartz (old school) bulbs illuminate the entire 120-yard field (end zones included) at Byron—that's four poles of lights on each side of the field, each pole holding five bulbs and their corresponding reflectors. The scoreboard is bright enough to count as a ninth set with its multitude of tube lights used in the making of digits in the south end zone.

In the darkness of the last quarter I decided to put away the camera and have the quintessential small town football experience—watching the game from the inside of my truck. As the engine idled away providing ample heat in the cab, the cold wind continued to blow across Rocky's muted gridiron.

The game's outcome wasn't a big surprise. Wind River easily won, although it wasn't until the second half that they finally controlled the game. The last time I looked on the scoreboard from the truck it was 36-6 with 11:52 remaining in the game.

As I drove back to Powell, I fantasized about spearheading an effort to raise money for the installation of bright and modern lights at Rocky Mountain. Given what other people spend to attend big-time college or professional games, I reckon I'm good for the first $100 toward such a cause. Are there any other takers out there?

* * * * *

Traveling to Fromberg on Saturday, my intentions earlier in the week were two-fold as I planned for a game between the neighboring schools/towns of Fromberg and Bridger—less than ten miles apart from each other.

First, I wanted to see if Bridger was as good as their record indicated.

Secondly, I suspected that this meeting on the gridiron might have been rather historic given that for several years the two have played together as an eight-man co-op. And when not sharing a team, Bridger was playing eight-man while Fromberg competed at the six-man level.

When I awoke on Saturday morning to a couple of inches of snow on the ground and more falling, I considered the two games from the day before at Burlington and Byron to be good enough and I'd simply stay home. Fortunately, I reconsidered the possibility that the game in Fromberg might look something akin to what was out my window. My only fear was driving the 60-some miles and discovering upon arrival that the game was cancelled.

In deciding to live life on the edge and completing the drive to Fromberg, I learned that Bridger is indeed a solid six-man football team and will likely go deep in the playoffs. My guess is they can play at the same level as Hysham, West Yellowstone, Geraldine and Lambert. It might come down to the team that can stay injury-free during the playoffs.

Face Mask
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

When asked about the last time Bridger and Fromberg competed on the same football field, no one seemed absolutely sure, but most thought it had been only eight years. I was hoping to hear that it had been something like 30 years.

Finally, the snow. It was awesome. Never have I witnessed a football game under such conditions... much less photograph it. Fortunately the game-ending injury to Fromberg's Andrew Wallman won't be the lasting memory from that day for everyone involved. Knowing he will only miss a few practices, perhaps both teams will look beyond the victory or defeat and simply remember the game for it's pure sense of frolic and romp on the snow-covered gridiron.

Big Game Small Town Magic

Who Won?
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

In chasing down the big games of small town high school football, I'm always amazed at how it can grab you and sweep you up despite the high gasoline prices. Compounding that, I've had a couple of e-mails recently reminding me of the big games that I should consider attending this coming weekend—Twin Bridges at Sheridan and Hysham at Lambert are two such big small-town games that have been brought to my attention.

Sadly, I'm off to Chicago for a conference that has nothing to do with small town football or photography and won't return until sometime Saturday afternoon, after all the games have passed.

It is at times like this when I need to remind myself (as in this writing) that small town high school football is more than just the "big games." In the spirit of Woody Guthrie's This Land Is Your Land, Small town high school football is also the jovial hamburger crew at Drummond working the outdoor grill. It's the rag-tag assembly of musicians—students and locals—that make up the band in Stanford even if they never march. It's the announcer at Rosebud who only has a bullhorn. It's four referees instead of five. It's the grade school kids playing on the hillside at Harlowton, Noxon or Hays. It's the cars on the hill overlooking the gridiron at Sunburst as they sound their horns and flash their headlights following a Refiner touchdown. And sometimes it's simply gazing up to watch the clouds as they move across the Big Horn Mountains near Dayton during a time out.

Die Hards
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Last week, I finally made it to Pavillion, Wyoming to attend a Wind River football game. It probably wasn't considered a "big game" regarding it's importance in... say, Wyoming 2A football, but it was big to me. A couple years ago I drove there to watch a game only to find out that it was held the night before (here's the full account of that fiasco). And now, this season, in true small town fashion, the floodlights at Wind River were severely damaged from a big wind storm earlier in the year, forcing a rescheduling of their Friday night games to daylight hours. Who knows when I'd have another opportunity to photograph an afternoon game in Pavillion again?

That was big enough for me.

* * * * *

Since I won't have any particular game to blog about next week, I'll invite/challenge anyone who attends a "big" game (however one defines it) to post their observations below in the comment area. Along with the games mentioned above, Scobey is off to Wibaux, Big Horn is at Wind River in a battle of 2A undefeated teams, Custer-Melstone will play Bridger for the first time while Grass Range is traveling all the way to Meeteetse, Wyoming for a first time showdown as well.

If you go and choose to write about one of these games (or another), tell us what happened, but more importantly, tell us about the small town magic you experienced.

Small Town Showdowns

Tangled
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

While walking around before the game, I overheard someone say that this was considered the "game of the week" by six-man nation.com. It seemed reasonable even if it was the third week of the season. I considered the declaration a bit premature regarding the Montana Class C six-man game between the West Yellowstone Wolverines and the visiting Pirates (and defending state champions) of Hysham. Nevertheless, West Yellowstone had clearly captured the attention of many Montana, Idaho and Wyoming small-town football followers in the first two weeks of the season—defeating perennial six-man powerhouses Highwood and Custer-Melstone. People like me questioned West Yellowstone after the Wolverines defeated Highwood in the first week. "Maybe Highwood is simply down this year," I said to myself. But after defeating Custer-Melstone convincingly, all of us probably started to wonder: What are the chances of two strong teams being down in the same year?

And Hysham? They only lost one starter to graduation (Kyle Strickland) from last year's championship team, so it seems safe to say they are a given power in any Montana Class C six-man mathematical formula.

Wolverine Profiles
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

When West Yellowstone took the field, I was surprised in their numbers and size—reminiscent of last year's Augusta team. And like last year, when Hysham's modestly sized "dirty dozen" finally appeared from the locker room, I'm sure few West Yellowstone fans were afraid for the home team. But this time I wasn't going to be fooled. If I were betting, my money was riding on the Pirates.

Hysham did come out on top, 34-27, despite the lightning-delay and greasy field conditions from the day's precipitation—surely it toned down their notorious speed a notch or two. They dodged a bullet to be sure. Following the game, a friend said to me, "I imagine many teams will be placing an asterisk or two next to West Yellowstone's name on their schedules."

And let me be clear, it was a very, very good game!

Perhaps the Pirates won't look back on the contest and consider it one of their best days given the fact that at least two West Yellowstone turnovers were squandered and a couple of key passes were dropped. Yet, they did what a true champion often does—they found a way to win even if it wasn't pretty or convincing.

I'm unsure how West Yellowstone will look back on their setback. If nothing else, their coach may have said it best after the game, "We just scared the shit out of last year's state champs." Perhaps they did. Even so, the Wolverines certainly proved they can be just as scrappy as Hysham. Down by three touchdowns in the third quarter, they came back in the final quarter within 7 points and recovered a textbook onside kick in the final minute that, if they had capitalized, could have made it a one-point game or perhaps even won the contest if they converted the PAT. However, Hysham's scrappy character shined through as well, holding the Wolverines when it counted. Just too many "if"s in that earlier sentence.

Some probably walked away from the game thinking this year's state title will be a rematch between Hysham and West Yellowstone. I won't be surprised if that's the case, but I suspect the current unknowns of Lambert, Bridger, Geraldine, and Roberts would also like to make a statement or two about who gets to play on that last weekend. And I'm not ready to count out several others after only three weeks of play including Highwood, Augusta or Meeteetse.

Wolverine Fans
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

One last thing—maybe this is a "heads up" to the good folks at West Yellowstone. Two years ago I attended an early season game at Roberts when the Rockets hosted the (then) defending state champs from Highwood. The Mountaineers of Highwood squeaked out a 36-32 victory—thanks in part to three Roberts touchdowns that were called back for penalties. Afterwards, I felt sure that if they met again in the playoffs, Roberts would prevail. As it turned out, they did end up meeting in the title game only Highwood won the contest convincingly, 48-12. So much for crystal balls and six-man football.

Postscript: After the game, while the two teams were having a final huddle on the field, fans from West Yellowstone formed two lines that funneled towards the locker room. I saw it as a final tribute to their team and their extraordinary effort on the day. However, Hysham started towards the locker room before West Yellowstone and I thought to myself, "This could get ugly" as Hysham approached the reception of Wolverine fans. Thankfully, in true small-town fashion, I didn't hear one negative comment—just a lot of "Good game Pirates" followed by the polite response coming from the Hysham players, "Thank you."


BTW: I went to six-man nation.com's web site and didn't find anything about yesterday's game—just a bunch of very dated stories and information.

Small Town Football: A Native Game?

PreGame Helmet
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It was a question that only 643 miles of driving might be able to answer. Still, I wasn't so sure.

It goes something like this: By and large schools with a majority of Native American students are typically in the hunt for state basketball titles in any given class during any given year, yet the same is not true under these circumstances when it comes to the game of football. What explains this?

I had hoped the answer would be revealed to me by simply watching an eight-man football game between two small town schools with a majority of Native American students—Hays-Lodgepole and Rocky Boy. If the answer was in the game itself, I was too blind to see it. So, during that eight-man game I posed the question to a few people I met up with.

Rocky Boy Pursuit
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Depending on who you talk to, will depend on the answer you hear. And I've heard my share of different answers coming from Native and non-Native viewpoints—not just this past weekend either, but over the years. One person wondered if basketball was more like a game that was played in the Americas before the White Man came on the scene—thus explaining its popularity. Another person (an educational administrator) explained that organizing/coordinating 11 players was asking too much from a group of Native American students. He explained to me, “They want to win, but they don’t want to put in the time/practice. They have to be so much more talented than other teams to make up for their disorganization.” Many non-Native arm-chair quarterbacks seem to think that Native Americans aren't disciplined enough to attend regular practices and thus execute complicated football plays, which made me wonder how a team could pull off winning a state championship in basketball if they weren't disciplined about attending regular practices.

Allowing for my own arrogance in taking a stab at the question, I'd say Native American kids aren't hostile or militant enough when it comes to football, especially as I watched both Rocky Boy and Hays-Lodgepole warm up before the game—talk about a laid back pre-game. I was reminded of a backyard pickup game rather than a hotly contested rivalry, which admittedly was a bit refreshing. But hell, what are my formal credentials when it comes to the game of football, let alone Native Americans?

One of the assistant coaches at Rocky Boy responded to my query this past weekend, and I think he answered it best—or at least what made sense to me. It has to do with tradition. When it comes to the small town schools on the Indian Reservations, basketball is more established and accepted because it has been around much longer than football. Take Hays-Lodgepole for example, football didn't come on the scene until 1975 while basketball had been established decades earlier. Parents and grandparents played basketball, but not necessarily football. Basketball's long-term existence has resulted in a certain attitude/environment where almost everyone encourages the youth to play because the parents and grandparents played when they were young too.

Highwood Fans
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Back in 1999, I saw a very competitive Lame Deer team defeat perennial powerhouse Highwood in the six-man quarterfinals—on Highwood’s home field. The following week, they lost their semi-final match to West Yellowstone largely attributed to a key player injury. I've been haunted by that team since—waiting for another Reservation school to match or best the 1999 Morning Stars. I feel certain it is bound to happen in the not-too-distant future—and more frequently—as more of today's young Native American students discover and consider the option of football related to their own specific skills and athletic abilities.

If football truly has gained a toehold in the small schools of America's Reservations, I suspect the Native American players, coaches and teams will develop their own knack and style for the game much like they have in basketball. And with a bit of luck, perhaps we'll see more and more Native American teams vying for conference and state titles in football as well.

I look forward to the day.

Texas... Finally

Taking The Field
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I've always been somewhat afraid that a Texas football fan would discover my blog and photos and denounce my work because I had never attended a game in Texas. No more... they'll have to find some other flaw if they wish to do so now.

After more than three years of thinking about it, I finally committed myself to visit West Texas and take in their version of small town high school football, aka six-man football. I wish the journey could have come about on someone else's nickel, but dishing out the expenses for a round-trip airfare to El Paso, car rental, 1,100 miles worth of petrol and a couple motels along the way was still worth it. All of this with threatening rains and overcast skies standing by in one of our country's driest and sunniest regions.

Countless alumni of great football universities throw away much more money on any given autumn weekend to see their favorite team in action compared to my modest investment, and they only get to witness one football game.

After spending Friday in Sanderson, Texas for their opener against the Grady Wildcats, I drove over 300 miles in my rented Ford Fusion to attend the Jayton (Texas) Gridiron Classic the next day. The Gridiron Classic consist of four games of six-man football starting at 10:30 in the morning with the last game commencing at 7:30 in the evening.

Think about it... five Texas six-man football games in two days! Did I luck out or what?

Raider Interference
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

My luck can be whittled down to the fact that I chose the first week when these football "marathons" are held in the Lone Star state. As I found out later, there were other locations that same day hosting day-long football events too. Two others I heard about were in Trent and Hico—both featuring six-man games too.

One might be wanting to ask about now, "So, is Texas small town football different than what you've seen in Montana or Wyoming?"

Given the fact that there are over 100 six-man football teams in Texas, it shouldn't come to anyone's surprise that I probably witnessed at least one team that would likely defeat a six-man state champion hailing from Montana or Wyoming. That's simple math.

Yet, I suppose what impressed me the most were the facilities I saw in places like Sanderson and Jayton. In short, it's safe to say that Texas spends more money on high school football than Wyoming or Montana. So much, that even the small town schools don't feel so "small town" when it comes to attending a football game.

Further, as I headed back to El Paso on Sunday, I stopped in several other West Texas towns along the way to view other facilities as well. One town that stood out was Kermit (pop. 5,367). Kermit is about the same size town as Powell—where I live. But Kermit's stadium dwarfs Panther Stadium (here in Powell) and is easily larger than Daylis Stadium in Billings, Montana where the big AA schools of West, Senior and Skyview play.

SandersonScape
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I'm still recovering from the Texas five-game kickoff to the 2008 season—to the extent that I chose to stay home for the first week of games in Wyoming and Montana. With any luck and a little more rest, I should be up for a trip to Victor, Montana next week where the Vikings will be hosting the defending Class C eight-man state champions—the Drummond Trojans.

Earthquakes In Coaching

CoachNelsonLectures
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

At 48-years-young, there's not much news out there that really surprises me anymore. At least that's how it seems.

Nevertheless, when I travelled to Highwood, Montana to photograph their six-man football team during their preseason practice and conditioning drills, I was totally blindsided when Highwood's new head coach Bart Hawkins informed me that Mike Nelson—Highwood's notorious head coach for the past 17 years—had left education as well as coaching.

My first reaction to the news was that of embarrassment because I hadn't heard, and—worst yet—I had mistakingly said "Good morning Coach Nelson" to assistant coach Dan McGee upon my arrival thinking he was Mike Nelson. But when Coach Hawkins informed me that Nelson's resignation had only become known to the public about three weeks ago, I felt a little better. Yet, I was still a bit upset with myself that I hadn't heard about this big story in the world of six-man football before making the 300-mile drive.

And big news it is. Consider Nelson's resume: During his tenure, while teaching mathematics, his teams notched ten Montana state titles—10 state titles, 17 years! No other six-man football coach in the country can make the same claim. His overall record was 133-22 including eight undefeated seasons. I suppose I was lucky to witness one of those rare losses back in 1999.

How could he leave with so much going for him? Even the most successful football coaches feel the everyday pressures that build up if not addressed. According to the Great Falls Tribune, Nelson's departure was a combination of wanting to spend more time with his family, escalating gas prices that made his 60-mile daily commute from Great Falls prohibitive and a new job offer that came along at the right time.

It's all good in the end. A new coach (Hawkins) gets to step up to the plate and show the world what he can do as well. And so a new chapter begins at Highwood High School.

Oh, and what's the new job for Mike Nelson you might be wondering? He's going to become a pharmaceutical salesman for an international healthcare company... Talk about a total change of direction.

Well, he's only 40-years-old and who knows, the coaching itch might need scratching again someday so, I'm not writing him off completely. Regardless I wish him the best of luck—however he may define it.

The Season Cometh

The Season Approaches
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Football season... it's nearly here.

I'm looking forward to visiting a few new small town football venues including Sanderson, Texas where the Eagles have maintained a pretty high profile when it comes to competitive six-man teams in the Lone Star state. After ten-plus years of small town high school football in Wyoming and Montana, I reckoned it was time to see the Texas version. This will be a personal record... over $400 (airfare to El Paso and car rental thus far) to watch one high school football game—not even a playoff or title match.

Why Sanderson? I'm hoping the setting of this little West Texas town will provide the backdrop that I've grown accustomed to in Wyoming and Montana. Besides, how credible can this body of work be if I've never seen a game in Texas... especially a six-man contest?

Then there is Victor, Montana—home of the Pirates competing in the Western C eight-man conference. I'm hoping to attend one of their two home games as well. Not a short drive in the context of 2008 gas prices. And I thought Sunburst was a long and expensive drive last year...

A little farther down my list are games at Culbertson-Bainville, Medicine Lake-Froid, and Lincoln in Montana. In Wyoming, there is Wind River in Pavillion—that place has been calling for years.

Kansas Small Town Football

Arthur Locker
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Here is a nice little slideshow from last season produced by the New York Times about Smith Center, Kansas (pop. 1,931) and its successful high school football program.

This image is from a six-man game I attended in Arthur, Nebraska (pop. 145) a few years back.

Football Greatness: A search for its source

Highwood Mountains Network
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Just past the urban landscape of Great Falls, are the Highwood Mountains—a small outcropping and detached portion of the Northern Rockies and a mecca of sorts when it comes to six-man football in Montana. These mountains serve as the "backyard" to the two small towns of Geraldine and Highwood where 18 of the past 20 six-man titles games have included one or both of these two schools—often resulting as champion and runner-up in the same year.

In all of Montana, the fourth largest state in the U.S., these two communities are both located in Choteau County with only 30 miles separating them. However, most fans (and team busses) traveling between the two towns for the annual rivalry, drive a longer and smoother route because the shorter 30 miles connecting Geraldine and Highwood is an obscure and rugged dirt road—over and through the Highwood Mountains.

Highwood (pop. 189) is tucked away and hidden within the folding landscape of foothills and coulees—you never see it until you're practically there! The climb into the mountains from Highwood is almost immediate. A sense of refuge and wonderment surges the further one climbs. Descending from the other side, Geraldine (pop. 284) resides on the exposed and tapering prairie of wheat fields adjacent to the steeper slopes and is easily visible for miles as one approaches.

On Thanksgiving Day in 2002 after Highwood defeated Geraldine in the title game, I decided to travel the dirt road connecting these two towns to see if there was some magical or secret connection between the mountains and these two highly successful football programs.

As I drove along the higher elevations of the old road, I found myself looking at the trees carefully, taking note of the sky's colour and listening to bird songs—hoping to detect something different in these elements that might somehow explain why the kids from Choteau County excel in six-man football. I even considered taking a sip of the water from a nearby stream expecting it to somehow taste different than any other water. Gazing over the alpine landscape, I looked closely at several of the meadows thinking that I might discover the markings of a secretive, summer gridiron—a hidden retreat that would allow the two teams to start practice in July rather than August, and without the punishing heat associated with mid-summer temperatures found elsewhere in the state.

I imagined, but found no evidence of the teams riding in a school bus with an entourage of pick-up trucks in tow as they cross the mountain along the dirt road and arrive at some selected spot for a preseason scrimmage in one of the cool mountain meadows.

Yes, that would explain everything, wouldn't it?

Wyoming could learn from Montana: Part 2

Longhorns & Bus
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I suppose someone has to shout out, "The king has no clothes."

So, in other words, Wyoming has too many classes of football given the few numbers of schools that participate. Count them up: Approximately 57 Wyoming teams participate in five different classes of football—that's a dozen (or less) schools competing for a state title in any one class! Need I mention this only constitutes a big-conference championship in most other states? It's rather laughable to hear of a Wyoming high school tout itself as state champs when they are only the best team in a field of no more than twelve teams. Too bad they can't travel down to Colorado after being crowned "state champs" in Wyoming to compete against the best of their class there.

Nevertheless, a few exceptions come to mind when pondering the watered-down state football titles in Wyoming.

The Cokeville Panthers won the Wyoming 1A title in 2001—the states smallest class of football. However, during the regular season, they also defeated the eventual 3A champions—Big Piney on the Puncher's home field. Surely that was a team deserving of a state title. Unless I'm mistaken, their 2001 schedule also included victories over a couple 2A schools as well.

Another argument against Wyoming's over-saturated classes of football concerns the playoff pairings at the end of the year. Not only do mediocre teams (with losing records) advance to the playoffs, but such dismal numbers in each class result in more rematches when the playoffs finally roll around—it's not uncommon for two schools that faced-off during the regular season to play again in the post-season—the title game included.

This past year, after losing its final game (at home) to Buffalo decisively, Powell High School (and its forlorn 3-5 record) went on the following week to play Buffalo again in the first round of the playoffs—in Buffalo where they lost just as decisively—talk about a waste of gasoline.

In 2004, two of the five championship games in Wyoming were rematches from the regular season. No doubt rematches were seen at the playoff level that year as well. My point here is that every effort should be made to beef up the numbers in each class (if possible) insuring the playoff brackets will be "fresh" in match-ups.

Contrast that to many of Montana's playoff games where the deeper the playoffs go, the more likely the two opposing teams have not seen each other in years—sometimes never, certainly not during the regular season. Rare is the case when two teams that played during the regular season face off again in a playoff game. Such scenarios are an oddity—a hiccup—not the norm. (The only exception to this argument is Class AA—Montana's largest class—which fields only 14 teams.)

At last count, Montana has 150 teams (made up from 176 schools—some teams are co-ops) playing in five classes of football broken down into the following: Class AA-11 (players): 14 teams, Class A-11: 24 teams, Class B-11: 41 teams, Class C-8: 45 teams, Class C-6: 26 teams. That works out to an average of 30 teams per class.

Because they are eight-man and six-man play, these last two classes (Class C) are the key ingredients that set football in Montana apart (and above) from Wyoming's offering of the game—where all classes are eleven-man. Bluntly stated: small towns and eleven-man football don't make for an ideal marriage. Here's why...

When I attended a Wyoming 1A class game back in 2003 between Hulett and Ten Sleep. The two teams fielded less than 30 players—combined! I believe Ten Sleep never had more than two players on the bench during the game. These kind of conditions lead to a game of lesser quality—a product of smaller, underclassmen players starting in a game they typically have no business playing while the better part of their activity on the field is running around and staying out of the way of the larger and older players. In the end what you have is basically an eight-man or six-man game anyway with a handful of inert players on the same field. That being the case, why not play the actual game that is more representative and spare the unnecessary injuries incurred by any smaller/underclassmen players on the field?

Not long after that game in Hulett, Ten Sleep and another Wyoming school (Meeteetse) apparently had enough of barely fielding eleven-man teams year after year only to be thumped each week (expect when they played each other) and jumped to Montana's six-man football class. I suspect both teams have to drive a bit farther for away games, but I'm sure it is worth it now.

* * *

I don't offer any definitive ideas on improving high school football in Wyoming, but I do believe adhering to Friday nights and Saturday afternoons for all games is a step in the right direction. Following that, I suspect formulating a new classification system that has fewer classes would be best. Perhaps a three-class system where the existing 5A and 4A teams are consolidated into one group (Class A) while the 3A and 2A teams compete at the next level of eleven-man play (Class B). Those 1A schools that wish to stay as eleven-man can join Class B as the remaining schools would join the new programs from other small schools making up Wyoming's new six-man league (Class C). Assuming most of Wyoming's existing teams stay at eleven-man play, that would boost the average of the 11-man classes to 23 teams per class and thus providing a sense of respect to any team crowned "state champ" in Wyoming.

You might be asking about now, "Why six-man instead of eight-man?" Although I'm not as passionate about this proposal, I believe it would be the best for those schools that haven't had football programs to start or restart in six-man play and thus create greater opportunities at the small-school level for student participation and, at the same time, provide another worthy local event for Wyoming's rural communities to rally around.

The good news is that discussions are already underway at the Wyoming High School Activities Association (WHSAA) as they consider the idea of starting a sub-eleven-man football conference—undoubtedly inspired by Meeteetse and Ten Sleep. As of this writing, I've learned that a six-man conference is the likely choice. The WHSAA is requiring at least eight committed schools if they are to proceed with this league that would commence in the 2009 season. Let's hope this materializes.

So, what is required of a school destined to support a six-man football team? In a word, numbers. Typically, the schools in Montana that have healthy six-man football programs are endowed with enrollments numbers (grades 9-12) around 40—Rosebud (25) and North Star (83) are the extremes. According to a couple sources, schools such as Kaycee, Chugwater, Little Snake River (Baggs), Rock River, Encampment, Farson-Eden, and Arvada-Clearmont are prime candidates while Ten Sleep and Meeteetse are givens. That's nine possible teams already and surely there are a few others out there that are looking or perhaps one or two of the existing 1A teams are considering the change as well.

Now, if we could only get the school at Jeffrey City to reopen as well...

Perhaps the most significant obstacle in creating this new class will be the entrenched negative outlook that seems to prevail on less-than-eleven-man-play throughout Wyoming. I suppose there are a number of reasons why it lingers—eleven-man football is what the pros and college teams play and is therefore as formidable as any argument needed. Nevertheless, just because a game uses eight or six players to make a football team does not make it inferior—ask any of those schools or communities in Montana who have moved down from eleven-man to eight-man or from eight-man to six-man.

I remember hearing years ago about the dwindling enrollments at Hysham, Montana and the community's reluctance to step down to six-man from eight-man. I suppose the success they experienced at the eight-man level countered the thought of playing six-man. In 2004, Hysham made it to the eight-man quarterfinals with a 12-man roster before bowing out—the result of injuries to key players. As it turned out, that quarterfinal loss was telling about the importance of depth in a football team. Knowing their numbers were predicted to stay down, the Hysham community felt it was in the school's best interest to play six-man football thereafter. After only two years and a school enrollment of 36 (9-12), they won the six-man state title in a field of 26 teams. When I attended the title game in Hysham, I didn't detect any signs of a longing for the old days of eight-man football.

Over the last ten years I've driven all over Wyoming and Montana in search of small town high school football. And each time I pass through Farson on my way to Cokeville, Big Piney or Pinedale, I always think to myself that it's a shame they can't have their own football games. So, imagine my excitement in contemplating the idea of attending a football game in such new and remote locations as Farson... or Baggs... or Chugwater... or Kaycee... or Encampment.

Wyoming six-man football... build it and they will play.

Wyoming could learn from Montana: Part 1

Rowberry Leaps
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

With the exception of walking over to my nearby Powell Panther football games on a couple of Friday nights, this past football season found me documenting small town high school football exclusively in Montana. It wasn't on purpose, it just turned out that way.

Or maybe it was on purpose.

In 2006, I attended only one Wyoming football game and the years before that, just a couple during any one season. Only in 2001 did I attend games exclusively in Wyoming.

Looking back on this record, I can only surmise that the reason I've attended more Montana high school games than those in Wyoming is because Montana's games are simply better.

There, I said it. I reckon this guarantees me a last-place finish for any popularity contests in the Cowboy State (where I reside). Regardless, I hope no one will take it personally, but rather think of it as only a critique that might be taken into consideration when the powers that be think about improving the game of football in Wyoming's high schools.

And, before you go and totally dismiss my opinion, give me some credit for having attended a fair share of games in both states—not just some ridiculous conclusions based on a few visits.

Of course, I can't just stop here without defending my opinion, so I'll explain my rationale.

Montana high school football is better than Wyoming high school football; Part 1

All Montana games are played either on Friday night or Saturday afternoon—regardless of class. The only exception comes during the last week of the regular season (the beginning of the hunting season?) when many games are played on Wednesday because there is no school on Thursday and Friday.

The point I want to make here is that many Montana games are played Saturday afternoon—for those smaller schools and communities that don't have floodlights. Given any Saturday during the football season, there are typically over 20 games scheduled in Montana.

On the other hand, many schools in Wyoming without lights play on Friday afternoon. And a few schools even play Thursday afternoons or Thursday nights because they don't have classes on Fridays! As far as high school football goes, that's practically sacrilege in my opinion. If a school doesn't have classes on Friday, that's no reason to move its home games to Thursday afternoon or evening. Most everyone outside of the school still has another weekday of work (Friday) and who wants to go to a high school football game on a Thursday night and still expect to find the same "magic" in the air as a Friday night game? Of course having a game on Thursday afternoon is even more offensive and moving them to Friday afternoon is no better.

So why are so few (if any) Wyoming high schools playing on Saturday afternoons—referring to those schools that don't possess floodlights? Some have speculated that doing so would be interpreted as a disloyal act directed toward the University of Wyoming and its Saturday afternoon games in Laramie. If true, I find it incredible that attendance at a UW football game would suffer if communities like Burlington have their football games on Saturday afternoons as well. What of all of the Saturday high school games in Montana that are held when there are up to six Montana colleges hosting Saturday games including the University of Montana and Montana State University? Further, Montana's five high school championship games are typically played the same afternoon as the annual Cat and Griz (U of M and MSU) face-off!

From my vantage point, it doesn't seem to be very community-friendly when games are scheduled at anytime on Thursdays or a Friday afternoon. This would seem to be especially poignant in the smaller communities. The only people that are likely to get off work (in the case of weekday afternoon games) are family members of the players and members of the school community. Scheduling compromises such as this will surely be the demise of high school football just like churches would find dwindling membership if they suddenly started holding services on Saturday instead of Sunday mornings. And in a state that has the lowest population in the country, adhering to conventional Friday night football (or Saturday afternoons) is paramount.

As big a fan as I am, it's nearly impossible for me to travel to Wind River High School (located in in Pavillion, Wyoming, only a 3-hour drive) for a Thursday afternoon or evening game unless I make some major adjustments to my work schedule. However, I can easily make it to Rudyard, Montana (about an 8 hour drive up on the Hi-Line) for any Saturday afternoon game.

I wonder now if these scheduling cacophonies in Wyoming high school football have retarded attendance in the smaller towns already? Surely the game's allur has lost its luster, and if continued, might such alternate scheduling be the beginning of the end for the future of small town high school football in Wyoming?

Next up, Part 2 in the argument for Montana's superior high school football program.

Hysham's Magic

Town Pirates
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

If I were a betting man, I would have wagered $100 on Augusta defeating Hysham in the six-man title game. Good thing I don't bet. I'm still trying to determine how Hysham won it? I was there, but I'm having a hard time putting my finger on how the Pirates did it so convincingly.

Good coaching? Sure, but Augusta's Coach Barrett is no slouch.

Speed? I'd say so, but it wasn't obvious, was it?

Good discipline and execution? Yes. At least I was conscience of that a couple times—once while running back Matt Icopini waited patiently for a trap to develop on the sparsely populated, six-man line of scrimmage. It payed off as he raced 54 yards for the touchdown.

Tough? Oh yes. They have to be, but who isn't when they make it to the title game?

Pirate magic? Sure, it makes as much sense as anything.

And here's the kicker... They won the Montana Class C six-man title with only one senior on their 13-man roster and never lost a game all year.

***
At five-foot, seven-inches (at best), I'm a believer in that old expression "dynamite comes in small packages." But, when Hysham started walking down Main Street on their way to the gridiron, I was thinking to myself, "Is that it? Are there some other players coming out later... like, the varsity?"

In the game program, Hysham's #20, Tait Hollowell was listed at 185 pounds—soaking wet maybe. Programs don't lie, do they?

I'd seen Augusta at North Star several weeks earlier and I was impressed by their size and athleticism. However, they had lost to Highwood during the regular season, but Highwood lost to Hysham twice—once at home and another time at Hysham in the playoffs. So, when the Pirates appeared, I assumed that the Elks must have had a really bad day with Highwood or some key players didn't make the game that day.

As Augusta waited to receive the opening kick-off, I watched the Pirates' small-framed, kick-off team run out on the field as I prepared myself for the Augusta return man to take it back all the way. It didn't happen and what was even more surprising, it never happened.

The entire game was a reminder of last year's eight-man title game at Centerville. When the Miners came out on the field and I saw their great numbers, but relatively small size, I calculated Wibaux was going to win by four touchdowns... easy. I was wrong then, and wrong again this time at Hysham.

But, you know, I don't mind being wrong. It's good for the soul as long as one is willing to admit it.

***
Not only was the Hysham-Augusta match-up a great small town high school football game, it was also a great day for all the wonderful attributes of such settings—most of them people related.

First there was A'lona, one of the Hysham moms who assisted decorating the highway approaching the town. She has a daughter attending the high school, but you would have thought she had a son starting at quarterback too. I met up with her again at halftime when I heard the championship game shirt sales were going fast. I walked over to the table where she was working with only four bucks in my pocket. Strapped for cash and no ATM in sight, I promised her a CD of images from the game and my remaining dollar bills in exchange for a shirt. The CD is in the mail A'lona!

Than there was Paul and Frank, the two elder corn farmers at the Chuckwagon Café (open 6 a.m. to 3 p.m.) that have probably never heard of the word "retirement." They weren't attending the game because they had a test plot just outside of town to work, but had plenty of time to chat with us over coffee and breakfast. When they walked in and found no available tables, they took up my offer to join Slim and I at our table for four.

During the game I became acutely aware regarding how many times the opposing team players helped their opponent up after a tackle. I know it's a common thing, but it seemed uncommonly prolific in the contest—text book good sportsmanship. Funny, I don't think I have an image anywhere in my work that includes this friendly scenario. And just like that, I have a new assignment for next season already.

The magic of small town high school football appeared to follow us to the big city of Billings. We decided to get a cup of coffee at the City Brew coffee house before driving the last darkened, 90 minutes of our trip home that is illuminated only by headlights with the exception of a few streetlights when driving through Fromberg and Bridger. Tired from our big day in Hysham, an elderly man named Robert walked over to our table and initiated a conversation about hair styles for older men that led to other topics. As it turned out, Robert was a retired history professor who earned a doctorate from Columbia University a long time ago and flew as a B-24 Liberator bombardier during the late stages of World War II. As colourful as his stories were given his age of 82 years, he was excited to hear of our day at Hysham and told us how he would love to see a six-man football game someday. We exchanged contact information and promised to include him in a six-man game next season.

It was a day of magic.

Fair Enough?

Anthem Antics
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It might not seem fair to those from Custer-Melstone if the Hysham Pirates win the six-man title this coming Saturday. After being a contender for so many years and just falling short of the title in their 2003 overtime loss to Geraldine, I always thought that if any team from the south were to wrestle the title away from the northern tier it would be Custer-Melstone.

But, it's no longer just north and south. As more teams have joined the six-man ranks (Hysham included), we've a full class of north, south, east and west. Surely Hysham would have been in the southern conference back in the early part of this decade, but they are actually an eastern team in the current re-alignment.

Further, having already knocked off northern favorites Highwood (twice) and Geraldine this season, who is more deserving of the state six-man title this year than Hysham; especially if they defeat the remaining powerhouse from the north, Augusta, in the championship game? That seems fair enough.

Not fair enough for the Elks from Augusta who have paid their dues when they appeared in the title game two years ago.

So much for fairness.

2-4-3

Sidelined with Crutches
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I'm not going to Wibaux this year for the trilogy; that is, the rematch with Drummond in the semi-finals.

All week long I've been telling people and myself that I'm just too tired from last week's trip to Sunburst, and its 900-plus-miles of driving. That excuse is probably good enough.

But, laying in bed this morning, I started thinking about the game. In fact, I even felt this tug that said, "Get up early Saturday morning anyway, and just go to Wibaux. Go on."

I tried to picture what I'd photograph once I arrived. I was rolling around in my mind what could be visually different than last year's blockbuster at Wibaux. I could see myself up on the hill—not the sidelines—by the statue of Pierre Wibaux watching from a distance. Like a little kid at a horror movie for the first time watching with my eyes half covered by my hands and wincing the entire time.

Wibaux and Drummond are two great football programs—traditions some might say. Who could argue the claim? I think of them as iconic in their own unique style.

I saw the first match-up at Drummond in 2004 where, what seemed to be, an over-confident Wibaux team walked off the bus to the gridiron like Roman soldiers about to capture another unsuspecting, miniscule chunk of distant land. Drummond was a machine, but even with one state title under their belt from the previous year, there was a feeling that many folks around the state believed they still hadn't been truly tested—that is the Wibaux test. We know what happened that day.

Then last year, I watched the same two teams who clearly held mutual respect for one another battle it out again in Wibaux. Many expressed that Drummond wasn't as invincible as previous years, but still had a long string of consecutive victories on their resume. Wibaux only had a score to settle.

I suppose it's safe to say that both Wibaux and Drummond know how unbearably long the bus drive is between the two opposing towns, especially after the game has concluded.

On one hand I hate to see Drummond make that same drive home from Wibaux as they did last year, but I know Wibaux duplicated the same drive a week later after their state title loss in overtime at Centerville. I know, it's all part of the game.

On the other hand, Wibaux has been teased enough since their last title in 2001. You'd think they'd never won one at all—reminiscent of the Cubs in baseball. Yet, they're due because they keep coming back year after year no matter who graduates.

As a neutral observer for most of the games I attend, I neither drive away from any gridiron feeling elated or dejected regarding the game's outcome. My formula for elation and dejection is related to whatever images I come away with that day; multiplied by the mileage. Yet, there are those teams like Drummond and Wibaux that I've seen play enough times that it's difficult to not wish them the best. And when they play each other in their little corners of Montana, it's always bittersweet, emotionally draining... simply exhausting.

I'm going to regret not going—I just know it.

Absarokee Euphoria

Kirby Looks
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Another beautiful autumn day in Montana and another superb example of small town high school football—this time in Absarokee.

I queried the people at the gate about how I would go about getting up on top of the foothills nearby that overlooked the gridiron. One of the Absarokee coaches informed me about the property owners that I would have to speak with first. Right there on the sidelines, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called someone who knew the landowner's home number—Chris. Then, he called Chris directly for me. "Absolutely," came the answer from the other end of the connection.

I walked up the long driveway from the highway. Chris' 83-year-old father, Grant, was waiting for me near the house and offered me a ride on the ATV to the bottom of the foothills where the bridge crossed the Rosebud River.

With a least four cameras in my possession, I never thought to photograph Grant sitting on the ATV or standing on the bridge that passed over the river—a true Homer Simpson moment on my part. Nevertheless, we chatted all the way to the bridge as I held on, my legs dangling over the side of the ATV. Four deer grazing in the meadow gawked as we slowly rumbled down the path. We could have gone on for miles and I wouldn't have objected.

The game lived up to my expectations. An eight-man football nail-biter. Stanford roared out to a 22-6 lead. The margin was reduced to 22-12 at the half. And with momentum building early in the third quarter, Absarokee took the lead for the first time. Shortly after Stanford regrouped to take back the lead. And as the final minutes ticked off the clock, the Huskies of Absarokee marched down the field destined to tie the game it seemed and possibly win if they made the conversion. But it wasn't to be. A deflected pass, resulting in an interception that went unchallenged for a touchdown.

Unforgettable perhaps.

Absarokee Vista
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

But what I'll never forget were the few, but pristine moments of solitude I experienced while walking down from the foothills. It was like a dream. I passed along the tree-line path that followed the Rosebud River and its cold water from springs and run-offs in the nearby Beartooth Mountains. And up ahead... was it possible… the sound of high school football just out of my sight? I considered those out of body experiences that we hear about when the world becomes rather surreal. Could I have died?

Again, it was like a dream.

Just Shy of 49

Sunburst Vista
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

It was 966 miles and two new small town football venues in one road trip. Although I hadn't been on the road every weekend this year, this particular outing to Rudyard and Sunburst made up for the idle weekends earlier in the season. It's a life... sometimes hard.

Few people beyond my immediate family have ever joined me in the past on these football excursions, but my friend Ken (a.k.a. Slim Hardtack) tagged along for a trip that found us only eight miles shy of the 49th Parallel (the Canadian border for those folk who are geographically challenged on North America). I felt a bit cheated having come so close to Canada and not actually crossing into the land of the frozen tundra. Nevertheless, a couple years ago I did just that when attending a game in Eureka, but that's another story for another time.

At 65-years-old, Slim doesn't move quite as fast as... oh, let's say a spry 47-year-old youth like myself, so I knew if timing became an issue, I couldn't hold him too accountable. As it turned out, I had my own issues as I forgot to pack my tent and sleeping pad and after about six miles beyond Powell's city limits, we turned around to retrieve my gear.

Camping somewhere near Fort Benton was the plan drawn up a few days before our departure, but by the time we pulled into Harlowton, the day's light was waning quickly. We pitched camp at the community fairgrounds and sat down at our picnic table with a big bowl of navy bean soup including side orders of wheat thins, tinned oysters and sour cream. The cold drew down on the meal, but the soup stayed hot and later on, clouds formed overhead to seal in what was left of any remaining warmth from the day, resulting in a morning that was quite bearable for mid-October.

• • •

After morning coffee, it was onward to Eddie's Corner with a small time-out at the Judith Gap wind farm. We stepped out of our rig to hear the hush of the egantic machines. (I'm introducing the word "egantic" today as an alternative to the world "ginormous" which was recently added to Webster's Dictionary). We contemplated how some have come to resent such a hopeful looking operation where cost-effective, cows, power, barb wire, symmetry, clean, and wheat farmers all come together. Past the wind farm, the tiny town of Judith Gap and Eddie's Corner, we stopped for petrol in Stanford and then by-passing Geraldine, Fort Benton and finally arriving in Chester on the famous Hi-Line.

Chester Coyote Art
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

I wanted to see if the coyote sculpture was still sitting on top of the high school at Chester. I was pleased to see it still poised in its howling position despite the name change of the school a couple of years ago which included a new mascot—the Hi-Line Hawks. Less than a half hour later we were driving into Rudyard with plenty of time to spare before the game—taking in the modest community attractions that include a movie house and automobile museum.

In past years I'd seen North Star (once known as Blue Sky-KG... yet another school with a former identity) when they were on the road at Hays and West Yellowstone, but this was the first time I'd been to Rudyard. It's probably one of the few gridirons over 300 miles away that I didn't attempt to acquire some kind of description before attending. Something always seemed magical about the place when I looked at it on the the map—so far and way up north. Perhaps the play of their impressive 1999 state championship six-man team lingered in my mind as well.

I wasn't disappointed in finding the North Star football field and it's simplistic, on-the-edge-of-town setting. However, over the years I've learned to be careful to classify any given football field as a desirable location until it is actually occupied with fans and other components of a football contest. And sure enough, as things were shaping up at North Star, the ambulance rolled in and parked itself on the northeast corner of the field blocking a considerable portion of my "clean" shot in that direction. So distraught by this violation of gridiron feng shui, I actually queried the two medics of the vehicle to see if there was an alternate location for the big blue and white box on wheels. I hope they didn't see me as some self-loving shooter from a big town making some ridiculous demand. Regardless, my request was denied.

Sam Berge Field Entrance
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Like so many small town high school football games, everyone from the community seemed to be in attendance. Despite the unfavorable outcome for the Knights of North Star in their last home game of the regular season, I never heard anyone diss the team or coach except one player who second guessed a play near the game's end.

Kick-off for the North Star/Augusta game was 1:00 p.m. and ended just after 2:30 p.m. The condensed time frame was the combination of six-man play's 10-minute quarters and a running clock in the second half due to a lopsided score. This gave us plenty of time to make our way to Sunburst, but not before a layover in Shelby, Montana.

• • •

I normally don't plug anyone's business in this blog, but I'm happy to shamelessly endorse the Sherlock Motel and its owner Mark Wilson. This guy knows Montana. I wish we could have stayed longer in Shelby if only to visit with Mark.

• • •

Sunburst Water Tank
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Like a crown sitting on royalty's head, that's where you'll find the football field in Sunburst. The only thing held higher (literally) in the community of 415 is its water tank. And so, what a great place to watch a football game... with the town below and the Sweetgrass Hills off in the distance. It's places like Sunburst and its surrounding scenery where floodlights should be prohibited! I'd like to propose a football schedule to the Sunburst town council or school board that has the last two home football games playing out on Saturday afternoon instead of Friday night.

Speaking of rescheduling games, it was homecoming weekend in Sunburst and that meant the main event was Saturday night instead of Friday night. Had I not called the school a week earlier to confirm the game time, I would have been standing around in Sunburst on a Friday night feeling really stupid when someone told me the game was the following night instead. My advice is simple: when driving over 200 miles for a small town high school football game, always call ahead to confirm the event's location, date and time.

Earlier when we stopped at Eddie's corner, I had purchased a Great Falls Tribune newspaper and read the scores in disbelief... from night before, Twin Bridges over Drummond and Absarokee defeats Park City. Earlier in the season Ekalaka had finally downed Wibaux. The stars of Class C eight-man football in Montana had realigned it seemed. I wondered if the same gods would be spinning their magic this close to Canada resulting in another change of the guard for the northern conference. As part of the homecoming festivities, the middle school football teams of Sunburst and Centerville were playing a late afternoon game and in the remaining hour of sunlight, Sunburst came away the victor. Surely many others in attendance like myself considered this an omen of what was to come in the main event.

Well, some would say that three out of four ain't bad.

What's a good football team to do? Simply put, the defending state champs from Centerville were totally immune to the upset magic—thus spoiling the Sunburst homecoming bash. In hindsight, I wonder if it was my fault. I've seen Centerville play four times over the years and they've never lost—starting with the Miners eight-man title victory against Denton in 1999.

With the floodlit gridiron surrounded by darkness and the scenic vista beyond the end zone invisible, the Sunburst-Centerville football game transformed into an ordinary Friday night football game that could be found in Texas, Nebraska or Pennsylvania. My energy to work my camera dissipated with the day's light. Surly if the game had been a dogfight, Slim and I would have stayed and adopted the role of spectators.

As we walked out to our vehicle during halftime, Sunburst's coach Matt Clark stopped me and asked if I was the one who wrote the football blog. I came clean about it although I was embarrassed that I'd been busted leaving the game early—by the home team's football coach no less! Despite the impending loss that was breathing down on his team, Coach Clark thanked me for coming up. Impressed we were.

• • •

Slim was making the complimentary motel coffee at 4:45 a.m. the next day. By 5:45 a.m. we had secured a booth in the only cafe that was open in Shelby, Montana on a Sunday morning. On the way home, we mused about the owners of Cadillac pickup trucks and wondered if they drove their rigs with cow manure on their boots. Slim suspected there must be a nicely crafted boot box located somewhere in the bed of the truck (lined of course) while leather house slippers are worn in the cab. Hmmm, if you're a Cadillac pickup owner, we'd be curious to know the answer to this query of ours.

Power Field Morning
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Desperate for a stronger cup of coffee than that provided by the Sherlock Motel, Slim and I detoured at Dutton and Power as we made our way down the interstate. It was Sunday and way too early so, as expected, we came away from the two communities empty-handed. Nevertheless, I couldn't resist photographing Power's gridiron in the early morning light with the delicate coating of frost on the turf.

Finally in Great Falls we stumbled into a Starbucks. I don't know, is it me or are Starbucks and its clones filling up with pretentious customers— just shy of those who show up for an exhibit opening at a big city art gallery featuring damaged lamp shade sculptures?

After our foo-foo (but strong) coffee and nearing Belt, we continued in our musing as we considered the everyday operations of a fictitious Department of Homeland Insecurity and the qualifications required to work for that branch of the government.

And then something about Al Gore's Nobel Peace Prize, his oversized home, what if global warming really was a hoax, and what would be so wrong with reducing our waste just for the hell of it?

It's all starting to blur now... Did I tell you it was 996 miles?

The Gospel According to Epler

Chester's First Six
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

The following excerpt is from Stephen Epler's book titled Six-Man Football: The Streamlined Game. Published by Harper & Brothers Publishers in 1938. When I was reading this to myself the other day, I felt as though I should be standing before a congregation of football disciples...

The Beginnings of Six-man Football

Six-man football can best be explained to the person familiar with the eleven-man game as the usual football played by two teams that play without tackles and guards, and are short the services of one halfback. A six-man team is composed of two ends, a center, quarterback, halfback, and fullback. Six-man football is not a pass and touch game. Tackling and blocking as well as kicking, passing, and running with the ball are integral elements of the game.

A casual observer at a six-man game would notice little difference between the two types of football except the smaller number of players. A more careful observer would soon discern other differences. He would not only observe that there are fewer players, but that the field is smaller. He would notice that all the players are allowed to catch forward passes and that more players handle the ball. He would find it much easier to see what each player is doing and he could easily observe the movement of the ball. He would notice that this is a more open game and that every running play includes at least one lateral or backward pass. He would discover that there are few pile-ups and fewer injuries. The increased amount of scoring and the fast-moving play would hold his attention.

Six-man football is primarily a player's game and only incidentally a spectator's game. Players become enthusiastic about six-man because they are allowed to carry the ball, catch passes, and handle laterals. Every member of the team must be an all-around player skilled in ball handling, pass receiving, and pass throwing as well as in blocking and tackling. The freedom from injuries and the open play increase their zest.

—Stephen Epler, 1938

Starting with Noxon

Noxon Red Devils
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Noxon, Montana is off the beaten path in every sense of the way. First of all, it is located in the extreme northwest corner of Montana and secondly, you have to drive over a one-lane bridge coming off the main highway to enter the town. With the Bitterroot and Cabinet Mountains on both sides and a healthy and thick stand of pine trees all around, Noxon would likely personify the quintessential image of what many people think Montana should look like—and perhaps Northern Idaho.

Despite its overall Montana-esque setting, Noxon is no Wibaux when it comes to football. That is to say, high school football still has its work cut out for it in Noxon compared to a town like Wibaux, Montana where the football season rates as high as the hunting season. While Noxon just restarted their football program in the late 90s, Wibaux has been competing for state football titles since its six-man days back in the late 30s and early 40s.

Another striking contrast between these two eight-man football schools/towns is that while some of the athletic kids in the high school at Noxon are "saving themselves" for the basketball season and opting out of football, Wibaux's community might not understand such rationale unless those same players could guarantee a state title in basketball.

Nevertheless, football tradition or location aren't everything.

* * *
I travelled to Noxon this past August to observe their first week of two-a-day practices. The idea came to me on the advice of Jody Oberweiser—the wife of Drummond's head football coach Jim Oberweiser. A few years earlier, I had considered a Noxon excursion until I heard they had installed lights. I decided 500-plus miles was too far to travel for a game under the homogenous-rendering flood lights of Friday night. So, I made plans to attend in the summer when two-a-day practices were held during the magical light of mornings and evenings.

I'm not sure what Noxon co-head coach Ted Miller thought when I called him up in June telling him about my idea to visit during their summer practices. Yet, he didn't discourage me, so I moved on with my plans.

One of the perks for travelling to that part of the state during the summer with ample time on my hands was stopping in to check out a few other small town football venues that I had pondered in the past—Superior, St. Regis, Plains, Thompson Falls, Troy, Charlo and Arlee. Along with Noxon, I would give Thompson Falls the nod for a great football setting with the added bonus of fielding a competitive team year after year.

There's a bit of anxiety when one commits to stay in a town/area they've never visited—especially if there isn't any advertising or significant word of mouth to lure you there like... oh let's say, the Bahamas. So, as I drove across the famed one-lane bridge that leads to Noxon, all I could say to myself was, "Well, this is it."

While in Noxon for the week, I stayed about five miles up the main highway (State Route 200) at the Cabinet Gorge RV Park. Diane gave me a great campsite for four nights at $42. Although I slept in my little tent and on the ground every night, it was priceless to know that a hot shower was a short walk away.

I had most of my meals from my cooler that I kept stocked with ice. However, I did break down for one meal and ordered a wonderful burger at Sneakers Bar and Grill in downtown Noxon. Next door at the Noxon Merchantile I found a bag of Australian Kookaburra licorice—what a treat and the last place I would have guessed to carry such a luxurious import. I also found my morning coffee (and a breakfast burrito) from the portable and efficient Road Runners Espresso—a converted potato chip truck that set up every morning at the end of the bridge by the main highway.

* * *
I knew it would be a good week when freshman Tyrell Wilkenson walked out of the locker room boasting one evening practice that he had gained weight over the summer and was now a whopping 136 pounds—soaking wet.

You can't help but get attached to any team if you spend enough time with them. I felt quite indifferent when I started shooting on Tuesday night, but by Friday afternoon I was a Red Devil fan as much as anyone else. Regardless of the 2007 season, I hope they come away from it with a great deal of confidence that will carry them into the 2008 season and beyond.

Leaving town that Saturday, I considered my comparison of Noxon and Wibaux and the hypothetical result of combining Noxon's scenery with the football enthusiasm of Wibaux—they'd probably have one whale of a football team. Some might argue I've just described Drummond and Centerville.

Coach Kudos

Here's a great article about Class C coaches Dan Lucier of Superior and Drummond's Jim Oberweiser. The story was written by Chad Dundas of the Missoulian, based in Missoula, Montana. Click HERE

Exhibit Opening

Anthem Singers
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

Come one, come all. The Western Heritage Center in downtown Billings, Montana will be hosting a photography exhibit titled "The Biggest Game in a Small Town" This is a collection of 50 images from small town high school football games in Montana and Wyoming from 1997-2007 by yours truly. The exhibit runs from September 13 through December 1. Museum hours are Tuesdays–Saturdays 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. The museum is located at 2822 Montana Avenue and their web site is www.ywhc.org

Hitting Isn't Good Tackling

Walters Delivers
Originally uploaded by mdt1960

As a fan of high school football, I was disturbed upon reading a recent sports feature in my local hometown newspaper (The Powell Tribune) about the Powell High School football program titled "Natural Born Hitters." In short, the article featured six players from the high school team and discussed their ability and hunger to "hit." The following is my response to the "Natural Born Hitters" story.

Hitting (i.e. a purposeful violent tackle or collision) does not personify nor define the game of football anymore than the cumulative GPA of a football team. It is only a small part—in fact a by-product of sorts—and certainly should not be glorified nor the focal point of the game as this story so sadly portrays.

This story has somehow confused good tackling with this thing called hitting which doesn't necessarily result in a successful tackle. I've seen plenty of mediocre teams over the years with their proclaimed hard hitters, but the brilliant teams are those where every player is running to the ball right up to the whistle instead of walking down field while one of their teammates attempts to make a "vicious hit." With three or more defenders on the ball carrier, a successful tackle is much more likely.

Of all attributes found in the game of gridiron football, I wondered why hitting was highlighted in this particular story. Whatever happened to the character building that should take place via the principles of a strong work ethic, sportsmanship, creative play selection or teamwork? It was always my understanding that to participate in any sport was to become a better person. How are we helping to build character in a young man if we validate a behavior where he "imagines the punishment he can deliver?" What kind of thumbless mentality are we perpetuating here?

Although quite physical, football is also a game of strategy, finesse and proper execution of any given play that is called. It doesn't have to be smash-mouth with the intention of humiliating one's opponent or "wrecking one's spirit and determination." Those teams who aspire only to play smash-mouth football are typically one-dimensional and unimaginative. Eventually their assorted weaknesses are discovered and exploited leading to their defeat.

Reading through the story I couldn't help but think of the smack-based talk associated with the WWE ("professional" wrestling). I will even venture to say that perhaps those who find hitting to be such a great attribute in football might also be the same who attend a NASCAR event hoping they'll witness a brutal crash.

I can only imagine the non-football fans in the area reading "Natural Born Hitters" and finding even more distaste for a game that they believe is oozing with testosterone. I can't blame them.

As memorable as "big hits" might be, Chuck Bednarik's hit on Frank Gifford in 1960 (at best) only helped to seal the Eagles victory over the Giants while Jack Tatum's 1978 hit on Darryl Stingley was during a preseason contest. Such "bone-jarring hits" typically are more poignant in ending careers rather than winning football games as was the case in these two famous hits. Sadly, Bednarik is better known for his hit on Gifford rather than his place in the Hall of Fame or his role as the last of the Sixty-Minute Men (those who played both offense and defense).


It's a fine line between wanting to deliver a vicious hit and wanting to injure one's opponent. I have yet to learn of any football player who is capable of controlling their power and velocity of any given tackle/hit to insure that only the former results. Coaches and fans need to be thoughtful in the kind of encouragement we pass on to these young and impressionable players.

Everyone knows that any game/sport as physical as football has always been prone to a higher injury rate than those that are less physical. As I see it, the "Natural Born Hitters" story only endorses a style of play that increases the likelihood of injury. And that's just irresponsible.

Finally, we should keep in mind that just because a football player is considered a hard hitter doesn't mean the impact of their hit is totally absorbed by the individual in their crosshairs. Many of the game's best hitters leave the game before their time due to injuries associated with their overly-aggressive style of play.

Reservation Regards

Halftime Recovery
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

Congratulations to the Hays-Lodgepole Thunderbirds and their Class C basketball championship this past week. The Reservations continue to post some of the best basketball teams in both of these states.

Although I don't follow basketball anything like I do the football season, I still watch from the comfort of my computer the basketball season, especially when it gets into the post-season. In particular, like football, I watch the small schools—the ones I've seen play football. I also look for the same names that I would see on the gridiron.

I was at the Hays-Lodgepole gridiron during the 2005 season and watched Lance Brockie and his Thunderbird teammates take a beating from the visiting Knights from Northstar. I suppose no one was too surprised, but I remember seeing the look of competition in the eyes of the gridders from Hays-Lodgepole. They probably didn't like losing in football anymore than in basketball. I also remember overhearing the players from Northstar commenting on how big Brockie was. They clearly knew him from the basketball court as well.

They say basketball and the Reservations go hand-in-hand. What is it about football that doesn't produce the same consistent results in these Native American communities?

Nevertheless, I remember the six-man football team from Lame Deer in 1999. They made it to the playoffs and went on to Highwood and defeated the Mountaineers who are always a perennial favorite when it comes to football playoffs—if not outright winning the state title. Though they didn't win the state title, the Morning Stars were clearly a good football team hailing from the Northern Cheyenne Reservation.

A Barometer for Innocence

Number 40 & Uncle Jim
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

Not long ago, a friend challenged me to explain "innocence" and "grass roots" as it relates to small town high school football in Wyoming and Montana. Initially my incorporation of these two terms has come from listening to my father talk over the years about how the game was played in his home town of Akron, Ohio—as a member of the Ellet High School football team back in the early 1940s.

I called my Dad the other day to get a refresher course on his version of high school football. Although Akron was considered one of the country's larger cities back then, football at the high school level was relatively small-time compared to today's version. The same is true even when contrasting it to present-day towns where far fewer people reside.

Listening to him, I looked for common attributes between what he described and what I've seen over the past ten years during my travels to football's smallest venues. And so, here's what I learned… one more time.

No one was a celebrity. It truly was a team sport back then and people didn't carry on about the skills or talent of any single player. Few players went on to play college ball because of the war, and if they did no one really paid it much mind.

There were no two-a-day practices, but typically the coaches would not allow them to drink water during practices—the rationale back then was that water would slow down the athlete.

No playoffs. There wasn't a great emphasis on having a winning season. Undoubtedly everyone wanted to win their games, but no one's life, football career or even weekend was ruined if a game was lost. You just had your season and it was over when the last game ended and everyone moved on to something like basketball. Parents didn't get overly involved in their kids athletics, much less pressure them to play or perform well.

My father and his teammates knew several players from the competing schools. In fact, it wasn't uncommon to hang out with their nearby rivals they played every year. Rivalries back then were few and were mostly in good sport, rather than the bitterness and harsh exchanges of today's rivalries.

Most of the people that attended games were either family or good friends of the players. There were no seats and the spectators (not fans) either stood along the sidelines or walked up and down the sidelines behind a rope to follow the play.

The field was hardly manicured like today's gridirons. They practiced on the same field as their home games. The only grooming the Ellet football field received back then was when someone would remove the cow manure off before a game. In places like Dubois, Wyoming, and Absarokee, Montana, you'll find plenty of deer and elk manure on the gridiron and in Gardiner, Montana, bison "remnants" are common too.

The gridiron wasn't next to the school. They had to walk about a half mile to their games and practices wearing their gear. One guy on the team lived between the school and the football field and they would always stop and get cigarettes at his house to smoke on their way to practice. Today, you'll find football teams in Rosebud and Alberton, Montana making the regular treks from their school-based locker rooms to the gridiron down the road, although I doubt you'll see any of them smoking along the way.

Everyone played on Saturday afternoons back then because no one had floodlights. This is still the case in many of today's smaller classes in Wyoming and Montana, but many schools aspire to get floodlights if they don't have them already.

I recall someone once telling me how small town teams in Montana would meet in a vacant field located between the two schools because it was so cost prohibitive for one team to drive the entire distance. Is there anyone out there who knows of such events?

As long as I'm asking, in the reader's mind, what represents "grass roots" and "innocence" in the game of football—whether it be years ago or today?

Eventually Ennis

Denton at Harlowton
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

August 2004: It was a night of rain—big, fast and steady drops. The kind of rain that submerges the interstate before it can run off the asphalt. I pulled over at the RV Park in Cardwell, Montana after I'd had enough—reminding myself along the way that I was driving through drought-stricken Montana.

There was nothing disappointing about calling it a night. There was no agenda and sooner or later, despite the rain, I would have pulled over somewhere. Besides, I had passed a mutilated deer 15 minutes earlier and knew I didn’t want to be a part of that scene. So, the Cardwell exit off of Interstate 90 was as good as any to overnight.

I had wanted to sleep in my tent, but as the rain poured down, I opted for a makeshift bed in my little Mazda instead—the back seat down with my legs stretching into the boot. I’ve done it before and when positioning the pad just right, it’s good enough if I’m really tired. As it turned out, the persistent rain beating against the car made for the perfect white noise and sometime after 10:00 p.m. I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke around 2:15 a.m., I was alert as though I had slept the entire night. The stars were out telling me the wet weather had passed. I’d slept but my dreams were restless. Something to do with relating three different subjects in tonight’s drive. And then something to do with the football towns that I was covering, but now it was all a blur and didn’t make a bit of sense even if it had made sense in my sleep.

The campground office was closed when I pulled in earlier, so I hadn’t paid for the site. Of course, I was planning to pay in the morning once the office was open, but it was 2:30 a.m. and with the thought of continuing on, there would be no payment. But it wasn’t as if I had used their resources. I hadn’t plugged in, I hadn’t showered or used a toilet. I hadn’t even pumped one drop of water from one of the water pumps. I dismissed the thoughts of guilt and pulled out of the campground.

The gas gauge told me there wasn’t enough in the tank to make it to Ennis, so I pulled off at the Three Forks exit where a Towne Pump maintained a 24-hour operation. Three Forks is named for its location as this is where the Jefferson, Madison and Missouri Rivers merge. I filled up the tank and put the interior of my car back in order as a result of my little camp out. Inside the store I purchased a bottle of Arrowhead water and a Little Debbie Fudge Rounder for 25 cents. The air was a bit chilly for a summer night (albeit 2:40 a.m.) as I unfolded the road atlas of Montana across the hood of the Mazda. This is when John, the truck driver, walked up out of the darkness.

I don’t know his actual name, but I’ll just refer to him as John.

“Where you going,” he asked?

I told him I was considering driving south on 287 to Ennis, Montana. I didn’t share with him my motive, but I’d heard it was a scenic place for a Class B eleven-man football game.

So, we talked. A lot about driving and the hazards of truck driving and the son-of-a-bitch companies that are calling the shots in the truck driving business. Stories that sound like anyone who works in the trenches of a trade-driven business. Everyone has a story about how the big companies shit on the little guys. In John’s case, they sell you a truck and then bust your ass to the point that you end up losing your truck.

Captitalism at its worse I thought. No one makes just a simple profit anymore, it’s all about making a killing at the expense of the masses. I can understand communism's appeal.

Despite this middle-of-the-night conversation, some of the things that John said weren’t very cohearent to me. Maybe it was the hour. Maybe it was the cultural contrast between us. Maybe it was the little white pills that helped him keep his eyes open at such an ungodly hour. It didn’t much matter to me. I just felt that above everything else, guys like John just wanted someone to listen to them.

John was 60 years old. His teeth showed that he probably didn’t have a dental plan—probably not one in years. I asked him how many more years he would drive a truck. He said he would probably drive until he died. I pictured a slumped over truck driver at the wheel careening out of control, taking a family or two to the grave with him.

The conversation drifted in and out of understanding. He mentioned a 30-mile-pass in Indiana that was very dangerous. I couldn’t even think of a prominent hill in Indiana. This was especially obscure after I had just driven over Homestake Pass earlier that evening near Butte. What the hell was he talking about?

I started making an effort to end the conversation, but John seemed determine to keep on talking. Finally he must have picked up on my body language and made his way to the gas station store. He didn’t say goodbye or anything like that—he just drifted away like thick black smoke coming out of a chimney on a windy day.

I made my way to Ennis reluctantly. Seems like I could have stayed talking to John indefinitely at the truck stop. I wasn’t crazy about the idea of driving a two-lane highway in the wee hours of the morning, not to mention one that was unfamiliar.

As I drove south, the rain found me again. This time near Harrison.

The night seemed adamant about rain as long as I was insistent on driving. Maybe it was a sign telling me I shouldn’t drive at night. Maybe it was a sign that made me the unexplainable answer to the drought that had stalled out over the Northern Rockies for the past few years. I concluded that as long as I continued driving, perhaps it would keep raining.

Eight-Man's Illusion

P-BurgScape
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

While driving around the back roads of Montana on any given autumn weekend, one could stumble upon a football game and if not paying attention, not realize it’s an eight-man game. Unlike the eleven-man version of football, eight-man is played on an 80 by 40-yard field (like six-man), but the extra players have a way of making the gridiron seem “occupied” in the same way an eleven-man contest occupies a standard sized gridiron. It’s only when one notices the missing wide receivers in an offensive formation with a full backfield or attempting to determine a defensive formation (i.e. 4-3-4, 6-2-3, etc.) that an epiphany results regarding this deficiency of players.

An Eight-Man Postcard

Just wanted to let you know that I really enjoy your blog on small town football. I just finished up a year of coaching an 8-man squad in Alabama where football is second only to The Southern Baptist in worship attendance. What I experienced was pure American. I wouldn't have traded it for anything. Attached is what has become one of my favorite pictures of my team. I thought I would share it with you. Keep up the great blog. You might check out the teams website. We are probably the smallest school in the state of Alabama to have a team.

Dewey
Brooklane Academy Eagles Football

Super Bowl Lament

Strug-up Shoes
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

While all of America is busy securing their beer, soda and corn chip caches for the upcoming Super Bowl (XXX-something), this is one football fan who is moving on to those things that are more representative of January and February... ice skating comes to mind.

Here in the northwestern corner of Wyoming, it’s just another cold January day. The Chiefs and the Colts are duking it out now. Later on another match-up will follow between the Seahawks and the Cowboys. I could care. To be sure, Indianapolis quarterback Payton Manning is the only player from any of the teams remaining that I can name. I’ll only know of today’s outcomes when I call my parents knowing they’ve watched these two events on one of their five TV sets scattered around the house.

As for me, I’ve seen my Super Bowl way back in mid-November when championship football games are supposed to be played. In my case it was in Centerville, Montana (rather than Phoenix, Arizona), where the Montana state high school eight-man title game was played out. And was it a doozie—as good as any professional or college game I’ve seen in my 46-plus years. The only other games that can rival that were other high school games in the past—Geraldine vs. Custer-Melstone in the 2003 Montana six-man title game comes to mind. Nevertheless, I won't argue with those who make such claims about this year's Fiesta Bowl between Boise State and Oklahoma. I didn't watch the game, but the highlights were brilliant.

There was a time not so long ago when I would tune in the “gridiron winter games.” However, after years of mulling it around, I’ve concluded that December should be reserved for the commencement of the basketball, hockey and wrestling seasons. No football game should be allowed to flow over into December for any reason whatsoever, even if it is played in a state-of-the-art, temperature-controlled dome or the tropics of Florida.

I’d like to think I’m as much of a fan of the game as those who follow professional football, but the deep winter months of December, January and February are not for football in my mind. Call it heresy, but come December, I’m ready to take a break from anything to do with the gridiron.

And the NFL isn’t the only guilty party in overextending the football season. Spending the first day of the new year watching twelve hours of college football on TV is simply wrong—that’s no way to start any new year.

Speaking of college bowl games, it’s getting worse—everyone wants to have their own bowl game! Could I be the only one who finds it absolutely disgraceful to see a 6-5 team in a post-season bowl game—touted by the commentators as if they were some kind of championship team?

Like any good thing found in this country, we typically overdo it until it’s worn out or we can’t stomach it anymore—assuming we haven't fallen numb to its oversaturation. Isn't this the case with Christmas, high-tech gadgets, SUVs, Brittany Spears and now football? Where is America’s sense of “modesty” these days? I like football way too much, so I’m ready to put it away when it should be put away—no later than November 30.

So, when this year's Super Bowl rolls around again, I’m out of here. Spare me the two hour pre-game show consisting of ex-jocks, talking heads and all the other fanfare and overproduced television commercials for what will likely be a mediocre football game. If I can stomach it, I’ll read about the big game in the newspapers or the internet. Besides it won’t be long now before the excessively long professional baseball season emerges from the cold depths of winter, but that’s a rant for another day.

Luxury and Letdown

Fred & Huddle
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

30 October 2004
It’s Saturday night here in Powell, Wyoming and unlike many Saturday nights during the football season, I’m not driving through the darkness of Montana on the lookout for mule deer in my path following another faraway high school football game. Nope, today’s game was in nearby Roberts, Montana—a mere 90 minute drive from home. The one o’clock kick off allowed my family and I the luxury of arriving home well before darkness fell—even during these shortened days of autumn as they begin to give way to winter.

The excess daylight following the game provided us a short detour to Clark’s Fork Canyon on the way home where a drama of clouds and light were playing over this small component of the Beartooth Mountains. Besides the luxury of daylight, another luxury resulted from the day’s short trip to Roberts—the luxury of thought.

Rather than consumed in high beams and arriving home safely, on this Saturday night my thoughts and cares are elsewhere as I step out into the darkness of my backyard. Looking up to the star-lit sky, I paused to consider the dissappointment that surely lurks in Montana’s smallest towns tonight as I wonder who fell to defeat in the first round of playoffs. Were the young men hanging their heads low in towns like Winifred or maybe kicking the dry dirt in Sunburst? Surely the humbling sting of today’s lost contest is just starting to set in for the players from Culbertson and Bainsville—way up in the northeastern part, where it is a short drive to the border of North Dakota (and not much farther to Canada).

Sooner or later, all but one team from each class goes through this year-end let down. Sometimes I find it hard to believe this sport is so popular knowing how every season plays out.

Connoisseur of the Concessions

Tanya At Centerville
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

My wife, Tanya, witnessed her first football game back in 2002 when she attended the opening home game of the Powell High School football season. She was hardly impressed. Despite her sub-par initial reaction, it really had nothing to do with the quality of play regarding the hometown Panthers or their opponents that night, but rather it was about her idea of the game of football influenced by a land far, far away.

Since she was 11 years old, Tanya lived in New Zealand until moving to the States at the ripe old age of 30. And if there's any one thing you need to know about New Zealand, it is that (as a country) gridiron football is probably about as popular as badminton is here in the U.S. The Kiwi version of football held in high esteem is called Rugby. As you probably have guessed, gridiron football takes some getting used to if one has been watching Rugby most of their life. Undoubtedly, the same would be true of watching gridiron all your life and then watching Rugby.

But her sour outlook on gridiron football started to change a year or two later when she tagged along with me to towns like Dubois, Belfry, Heart Butte, Drummond and Lima; she started taking a liking to the game of gridiron football—especially the eight-man version. And soon after that, she even developed a fondness for particular teams.

In 2003, when we travelled more miles than any other year, it was my own wife who first told me that Drummond was the team to beat after watching them defeat Noxon early in the season. For the most part, I was humoured that she had come so far from her initial disliking for the game to picking a team that she considered the best. Nevertheless, I was confident that Harlowton was the best team after watching them trounce Joliet and Denton during the regular season—not to mention that my knowledge of gridiron football was much more credible than hers.

So, during the quarterfinals that year, we both watched Drummond defeat Harlowton 40-0 and (as many know) went on to win their first state title. What do I know?

Yet, Tanya's true passion for attending any game extends beyond the gridiron play—resting instead on the concession stands and their offerings of popcorn, nachos, candy, soft drinks, hot dogs and hamburgers. The outcome of the game (for the most part) is really secondary to her.

So, when I asked her recently to give me some kind of list of small town football's outstanding concession stands, here's what she had to say:

BEST OVERALL CONCESSION STAND: Big Sandy and Drummond (could this be the largest factor behind her loyalty for Drummond?). NEEDS-MORE-WORK CONCESSION STAND: Rosebud (candy was the only offering). IT'LL-COST-YOU-AN-ARM-& A-LEG CONCESSION STAND: Custer. BEST CHEESEBURGER (her favorite concession stand item): Drummond and Denton. BACK2BBQ CHEESEBURGER: Harlowton (served cold) and Gardiner (not cooked thoroughly). And although no single concession stand stood out in its excellence in popcorn, she only remembers the NEEDS-MORE-WORK POPCORN: Eureka and Dubois (Wyoming). HONORABLE MENTION to Rocky Boy for serving saveloys (the Kiwi name for a hot dog/sausage with red casing).

Of course, Tanya is not the only one who benefits from the concession stand when we travel together. There are those weekends when she doesn't travel with me and as a result, I might only purchase a small bag of popcorn and/or a candy bar. I typically don't stop long enough to savor the concession stand offerings on my own. But when Tanya is along, I can be sure that she'll find me on the sidelines somewhere and force me to pause long enough for a delightful, char-broiled hamburger or hot dog with a cold Coke.

And if I'm lucky, she'll help me in the long drive home after the game.

Small Town Coach for Hire

Savage Coach
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

I get some pretty unique comments and emails regarding this blog site. Regardless, I never thought someone would consider this project as a link to finding a coaching job, but as John Prine would say, "It's a big old goofy world." So, if any school system out there is interested in the following, drop me a line and I'll hook you up with this small town football coaching prospect.

I have 25 years experience coaching high school football in three states: Ohio, Maryland, and Florida. Currently I reside in Florida. My journey—God-willing—is to become a head football coach in a small town (in any state). However, I do not posess a teaching degree. In the past I have always worked as a sub-contractor for a given school or on a volunteer basis. My family includes my wife and four children.

My search is for a program that is in need of rebuilding. I have been involved with some great football programs over the years—attributed to my hard-nosed, hard-working, Christian values. My approach is a concerted focus on details and accountibility from coaches to players and from players back to coaches. I am 43-years-old and have been involved with football more than half my life.This may come off as a strange e-mail, just understand I am trying to live out a dream and if you have any knowledge of a program that would consider or talk to me, please have them call me.

GOD BLESS THIS E-MAIL THAT IT MAY FALL INTO THE RIGHT HANDS.

Emotional Extremes

Schilling's Big Catch
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

I'll be the first to admit it—so count me amongst the non-believers—I didn't give the Miners of Centerville a chance against Wibaux. The best I could hope for was a two touchdown margin of victory for the Longhorns. And when I watched the Miners take the field from the Centerville hillside, there was nothing about them that impressed me like the 1999 title team. Maybe it's just those giant numbers on the Miner jerseys that dwarf the young men wearing them.

In the early minutes of the game—I think it may have been the second play—Wibaux grabbed an interception and the next thing I knew they were on the scoreboard. "The romp is on," I said to myself from the hillside.

I came so close to attending the Highwood-Roberts six-man title game which was probably only a 45-minute drive from Centerville, and as Wibaux drove in that first touchdown, I was practically kicking myself for my final game selection of Centerville over Highwood.

Nevertheless, I had made a thoughtful and informed decision. I'd been thinking about it all week and even as I drove off in the wee early morning hours on Saturday, I was still considering which game I would attend since they were both in the vicinity of Great Falls.
_____________ . _____________

In the first place, I had attended at least two games at both locations going back to 1999, so I wasn't hurting for images from the Highwood or Centerville gridiron.

I also toyed with the idea of driving to Highwood to shoot the first half of the six-man title game and then speeding over to Centerville to watch the eight-man title game conclusion. After all, halftime for the six-man game at Highwood would likely come earlier than the Centerville-Wibaux game because each quarter is two minutes shorter—this would also buy me more time in the drive between games. Despite this logic, it made me feel cheap because I was opting for quantity over quality. Further, I tried this same experiment last year with a game at Rapelje against Ten Sleep (Wyoming) and another game at Park City against Winifred. When I arrived at the second game, there was only seven minutes remaining because Park City was clobbering Winifred which resulted in a running clock.

Another thing I considered was the team match-ups at Highwood and Centerville. Early in the year I attended the Roberts-Highwood regular season game held at Roberts—a damn good game to be sure. Although Highwood won, it was closely contested; so close that I reckoned Roberts could win if they played again. So, if I desired an uncertain outcome, than Highwood was my choice. However, as I mentioned above, I had my doubts about a well-contested game at Centerville. Yet, Centerville and Wibaux never see each other during the regular season. In fact, the only other time I know they've met was in 2000 for a semi-final game. Thus, there was a certain mystical attraction in the contest—kind of like Dracula vs. Frankenstein or Jason vs. Freddie—even if I was certain of the movie's ending.

Thanks to my early start, I arrived at the Highwood turnoff around 10:30 a.m. for a game that wasn't starting until 1:00 p.m. and I still hadn't made a decision regarding which game to attend. With the excess time on hand, I decided to drive on towards Centerville and have a look around the surrounding towns of Sand Coulee and Stockett which also contribute to the contingency of Miners from the "tri-town" area. Despite attending two other Centerville games in the past, I'd never travelled beyond its gridiron. Following my tour of the area, I would drift on over to Highwood for the actual game if that was my inclination.

Walking around in the "downtown" area of Sand Coulee, I approached the town paramedic/EMT who was preparing to depart for the football game. Standing next to his truck while he smoked a cigarette, I finally asked him directly, "So, why should I attend this game over the game in Highwood?"

He paused a moment and then told me about "some F-14s" that would be flying over just before the game started. Initially I was humoured by his reply, but more importantly, I was finally swayed in which game to attend.

Sure, it's no big deal when a bunch of fighter aircraft buzz a major college or professional football game, but flying over an eight-man football game was rare in my book. Truly, this could be one of those small town moments. I made my way for the Centerville gridiron and confirmed my tip with the athletic director after I paid my six-dollar admission. Afterwards I positioned myself on the hillside with a camera that I considered would capture the moment and setting as I scoured the horizon for the incoming F-14s.

Keeping my vigilance, I felt a bit inadequate with my miniscule Nikon camera, especially since I didn't even know the direction of their approach. I knew there wouldn't be much time if I had the luxury of seeing them close in on the venue—even less time if they came from over the hill behind me. For a moment, I sympathized with the Iraqi army back in those early and glorified days of the "war on terror."

At 12:50 p.m. I spyed two, fast-approaching bogies and within seconds managed to peel off four shots before they were out of sight. I didn't even have time to make a positive I.D.—friend or foe. Now I know what a poor soldier I would make… shoot first and ask questions later.

Regardless, it was "mission accomplished" and kick-off was only moments away.
_____________ . _____________

Well, I'm hardly a sports writer, but the whimsical happenstance (despite my attempts at logical reasoning) that brought me to Centerville resulted in one of the most exciting football games I had ever witnessed—at any level of the game.

Following the second Wibaux kickoff in the early minutes of the game, I was taken back when Centerville marched the football down the field and tied the score. Not only that, they made the two-point conversion and grabbed the lead. I was amused. "Well, at least it won't be a shut-out," I said under my breath from the hillside.

The visiting Longhorns came right back with another score on a long pass to their swift halfback and regained the lead, but failed again to make the conversion. And as the first quarter came to an end, the Miners answered back with a long pass of their own and suddenly, I found myself attending the game I thought was to be found only in Highwood.

In short, I was stunned and remained so throughout the game especially when Centerville was up 42-20 early in the fourth quarter. Even a few players from Chester J-I (who represented the only team that had faced both teams; Centerville during the regular season and Wibaux in the playoffs) were somewhat shocked. But just about when I thought there was no hope for the Longhorns, I was stunned again when Wibaux came storming back while the Centerville passing game fell oddly silent.

The momentum of the game had shifted to Wibaux's side and with less than two minutes remaining in the game, Wibaux miraculously tied the game to send it into overtime. At that point I was sure the Longhorns would win the game, but even so and regardless of the outcome, this was far from the game I had expected. Then I considered either team receiving the runner-up trophy—it didn't seem fair.

Overtime in Montana playoffs is settled by each team having four downs from their opponents ten yard line—reminiscent of extra innings in a baseball game. If neither team scores, they each receive another set of downs until the tie is broken.

Centerville won the coin toss for overtime and chose to defend first (just like the home team in a baseball game). And in that first set of downs during overtime, Wibaux's momentum was suddenly neutralized when they lost a fumble near the goal line.

Centerville's offense started with a sputter of their own in that first possession of overtime. On second down—out of the shotgun formation—the Miner quarterback missed the ball as it passed between his legs, but he recovered it back on the 21 yard line. As it turned out, this loss opened up the passing lanes between the line of scrimmage and the end zone, and on the next play he found one of his favorite receivers in man-to-man coverage with a perfect strike over the middle in the end zone.

As the setting sun drew closer to the horizon, I witnessed the mingling of emotional extremes. The yellow-clad jerseys of the Wibaux team—some still lying on the field from the play that just ended the game—were engulfed by the black-clad fans and players from Centerville pouring on to the field to embrace the player who caught the winning pass and his other teammates.
_____________ . _____________

Coach Nellemore
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

And I thought the team and fans from Drummond had a long drive back from Wibaux the week before upon losing their first game in 45 wins (the longest winning steak in Montana history) during the semi-final contest with the Longhorns. But, it was clear that the crowd from Wibaux had it every bit as bad—might as well be a 2,000 mile drive home for them. I wondered if many of them came to the game with the same expectations as myself—thinking the Longhorns would be less challenged in this game compared to the Drummond game.

On the drive home, I thought about those exhilarated hometown fans at the Centerville Bar or The American Bar in nearby Stockett. Perhaps I should have lingered a bit to witness the merriment. Nevertheless, the further I drove into the night, I found myself thinking more about the defeated Wibaux team instead—the Pittsburgh Steelers of Montana 8-man football.

The week before I sat in Wibaux's most popular watering hole, the Rainbow Club, where locals watched old videos of past title games on one of the TVs. It was a reminder of how many titles the school had claimed over the years and how high the locals held up those championship teams. Certainly this group of players wanted to be counted amongst those elite title teams of the past as well. "Weren't they as good," I asked myself, "Don't they deserve to be included in that elevated group even if they came up short in overtime of the title game?" Former player and assistant coach Travis Nellemore could surely speak to the question. If I recall correctly, he played on teams that won the state title and lost the state title games. I'd like to think that whatever he said to the Wibaux players—perhaps from the darkened interior of the humming bus as it glided eastward down the lone highway—somehow shortened that long drive home.

The Rematch

Longhorns Take the Field
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

Wow, what a game. What... a... game—one of those that you hate to see either team lose.

Nevertheless, Wibaux appeared to be the better team from the opening minutes of the game. But, no one told the Trojans they had met their match which is why the outcome of the game was unknown until those final seconds.

My hat goes off to the Drummond Trojans, not just this year's team, but all the teams—going back to that first game of the 2003 season when it all started. I don't like to claim favorites in all the miles of following small town high school football games, but Drummond would be up there if a gun was held to my head. Why? Despite their success, the coaches and players have always maintained an air of modesty and humility about them. In short, they don't flaunt it. I wish our country's foreign policy would adopt some of these attributes found in Drummond's football team.

Oops... politics, I probably shouldn't go there. Not here anyway.

So now, Wibaux finds itself back in familiar territory—the state title game. I haven't seen this year's group of Miners from Centerville, but I'd be a fool to bet against the Longhorns after watching them this past weekend. Someone point out their weakness to me because I didn't see it.

All game talk aside, my favorite image/memory of the Wibaux-Drummond game won't be the eruption of Wibaux fans when they realized their Longhorns had sealed the victory, nor will it be the look of defeat on a team that has never experienced defeat. Rather, it was a simple and fleeting image and I suspect few noticed—it was Wibaux's head coach Jeff Bertelsen. Once the game's outcome was history, I glanced over to find him sitting on the sidelines with his bare, kicking legs stretched out in front of him like a giddy child in a bathtub—it is truly remarkable to see such unbridled happiness in a person. So, "Where's the image," you might ask? I'm sorry to say, but as far as photography goes, that was a fish that got away.

Postscript: I'm not sure if the Wibaux-Drummond II outcome means there's a changing of the guard in Montana Class C eight-man football. I suspect Drummond will be back (like Wibaux did this year) as well as the usual suspects; Centerville, Park City, and Stanford. Anyone else? Oh yes, and than there is Superior coming down from Class B to join the ranks of eight-man once again. They had 41 players on this year's team and they were in the Class B playoffs too.

Stay tuned as this story has no end.

The Harebrain Law of Equals and Eight-Man Football

Trojan & Longhorn Battlefield
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

Like many good folks around the state of Montana, it's hard not to think about this weekend's upcoming semifinal football games. Personally, I don't know what to think of myself walking around the campus of Northwest College in Powell, Wyoming thinking about playoff football games in Montana when my hometown Panthers are playing for the state title in Douglas this weekend. Traitor? Well, I've some thoughts explaining this strange phenomenon, but I'll save that for another time.

In some ways I think the semifinals are as anticipated as the finals—in fact many people have pointed to a couple of the games (i.e., Wibaux vs. Drummond) and have made claims such as, "That's the state title game right there." Perhaps, but if I had my way, I'd attend the Wibaux vs. Drummond game and the Park City vs. Centerville game too. That being possible, I wouldn't mind folding in the Libby vs. Dillion game too. Oh yes, than there is the Huntley Project vs. Malta.

I suppose there's this part in me that wishes the-powers-that-be would stagger the games so nut cases like myself could drive in record time between these games and witness each one. Yet, there is something good about picking only one and making the best of it.

I did that last week when I chose to drive to Park City for their showdown with Twin Bridges. Admittedly, I was hoping for a better game. Depending on who you talk to, either Park City is really good this year or Twin just didn't show up in full force.

Well that got me thinking about which teams really are the best based upon the common teams they've played thus far. So, here's what I came up with—it truly means nothing, but I just chuckled to myself for the pure entertainment of it all.

Centerville defeated Chester J-I 46-6
Wibaux defeated Chester J-I 54-12
Wibaux defeated Ekalaka 52-6
Centerville defeated Ekalaka 56-8
Therefore: Centerville equals Wibaux

Centerville defeated Valier 58-6
Stanford defeated Valier 56-0
Therefore: Centerville equals Stanford

Stanford defeated Absarokee 26-6 and 36-0
Park City defeated Absarokee 40-0
Therefore Park City equals Stanford

Drummond defeated Twin Bridges 42-6
Park City defeated Twin Bridges 46-8
Therefore Park City equals Drummond

Therefore: If Wibaux equals Centerville, Centerville equals Stanford, Stanford equals Park City and Park City equals Drummond, than Wibaux equals Drummond and Park City equals Centerville.

But, here's where the equation fall to pieces: Drummond defeated Stanford 38-6.

One last thought: A Wibaux-Drummond rematch? How many starters from that first meeting in 2004 will be playing this weekend? I suspect it's hardly a rematch from a player level.

Happy Election Day and best of luck to everyone this weekend. May the best teams truly win. See you in Wibaux.

Antarctica and Ekalaka

Another Bulldog TD
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

It's that time of the year when the innocence of small town high school football takes a back seat to the intensity associated with the playoffs. Despite the transition to a heightened level of competitiveness, the grass roots feel of the small town game never leaves the stage as there are plenty of reminders right up to the title games. Such was the case in Ekalaka (pronounced "eek-a-lack-a") this past weekend.

Ekalaka Chewing Tobacca, spit it on the floor! (A derelict cheer of unknown origin—probably a rival school of Carter County High School.) This is proof that some words are simply fun to speak out loud.

Years ago while applying for a job at McMurdo Station in Antarctica, I read about the issues regarding taking a holiday when working in the world's "Deep South." The discussion had to do with "polies" (those who are based at the South Pole) and non-polies (as in those who work at McMurdo Station). Polies typically travel to McMurdo for an extended weekend and once there, they can take in a movie, bowl, go to a bar or whatever else is offered/available in Antarctica's largest outpost. On the other hand, those who work at McMurdo are known to catch a flight to Christchurch, New Zealand for a brief holiday as Christchurch is the world's jumping-off point for flights to and from the frozen continent. And then the foundation of the joke is formed about what would happen if polies skipped McMurdo and went straight to Christchurch. It was concluded that they would be overwhelmed like a habitual gambler turned loose in the middle of Las Vegas, and thus never seen again.

Ekalaka, Montana is somewhat like Antarctica when it comes to isolated places in America's fourth largest state. Located in the southeast corner of the Treasure State, there is only one paved road leading to Ekalaka—a 35 mile ribbon of narrow asphalt straight to Baker. I've oftened wondered if the high school kids in Ekalaka travel to the larger town of Baker to get away from their small town of 500—reminiscent of Antarctica's polies. In fact passing through Baker is nearly a prerequisite for almost anyone from Ekalaka attempting to get "out of town." When it comes to the high school kids in Baker, it's likely that they travel to nearby Glendive or Miles City when they want to get away from their small town of 1,700. So, like the polies in Antarctica, I've pondered whether the parents of Ekalaka are taking a gamble when allowing their high schoolers a road trip to the bigger towns of Glendive and Miles City. Imagine getting that phone call from the principal at Miles City High School informing you that your child is now a MCHS student. Yikes!

Speaking of road trips... it's a long haul from Powell, Wyoming to Ekalaka, Montana—a 667 mile round trip to be exact. Although I nearly begged my wife to join me in this trip, I travelled solo. Rising at 4:00 a.m., I was on my way by 5:00. My arrival was 45 minutes before the game started thanks to delays brought on by a couple pullovers to photograph and a half hour cap-nap at the Wordan exit along I-94. (I was happy to learn in this trip that I can sleep comfortably in the cab of my old 1990 truck—just purchased last spring—if need be.) The return home took even longer—again broken up by more photo stops and another cat-nap at the same exit. Totally exhausted, I pulled up to the house at 12:15 a.m. swearing I'd never do that again unless there was a hotel before or after the football game.

And what a football game it was—a Montana Class C eight-man playoff game between Carter County (Ekalaka) and Culbertson-Bainville (a.k.a. "Culby"). The first thing that bowled me over was the number of players dressed out for Culby. They had at least 40 players and weren't lacking in the size department either. Watching the two teams warm up, I found it hard to believe that Ekalaka had defeated the Cowboys during a regular season match-up. I was convinced that key players from Culby must have missed that first meeting.

Fruit Scampers
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

The Bulldogs of Ekalaka (smaller and fewer in numbers) were hardly impressive as they warmed-up, but once the game commenced, they didn't take long to establish their dominance as they marched down the field on their first possession and scored. The Bulldog quarterback, Orry Fruit, was most outstanding in that his initial physical appearance didn't strike me as a terribly gifted athlete. I couldn't have been more wrong as Fruit was extremely skilled, confident and deceptively fast—many times appearing either very tired or injured or both, but he never left the game (perhaps a good actor too).

Two small running backs with the same name—brothers Orin and Pat Hansen—joined Fruit in the backfield and proved to match Fruit's athletic ability for the hapless Cowboys. Other members of the starting team for Carter County came across the same way as their quarterback. They were hardly a flashy team to look at, but well disciplined and scrappy to the core. Truly, the game was never in any doubt.

In Culby's defense, the Cowboys started many sophomores and juniors and with those kinds of numbers and size, Wibaux and Ekalaka have surely made note of what might be coming down from the northeast in the next two years.

For now though, I'm eager to know how the Bulldogs of Ekalaka will match up to undefeated Centerville next weekend.

Postscript: Sometimes I'm convinced that this undertaking of high school football is nothing more than an excuse to go to places like Ekalaka, because I doubt I'd ever get to them driven only by curiosity.

Denton, Montana and the NFL

Dentonscape
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

Perhaps fly-overs by a squadron of F-16s is to be expected at a major college or professional football game, but most of the fly-overs that take place at a small town high school football game are usually 747's at about 35,000 feet—I'm sure not too many people notice.

So, imagine travelling to Denton, Montana, to watch an eight-man football game and find a little Cessna, single-engine plane circling the field at a low altitude. After making a couple passes over the field, the pilot actually puts it down in the alfalfa field/landing strip next to the gridiron and then casually walks over to the sidelines to take in the action. I learned later that his son was a linebacker for the visiting Harlowton Engineers.

I suppose this is a small example of the charm that one might experience in the small town football venues around Montana and Wyoming.

— • —

It's a long way from places like Denton, Montana, to the congested metropolitan areas and their professional football games and stadiums—and more than just physical distance too.

Recently a gentleman living in the Washington, D.C. area wrote about a football outing he recently experienced involving the Washington Redskins.

“I live just outside Washington, D.C. and yesterday attended, as a guest, the Redskins-Tennessee Titans NFL game. Never have I seen such blatant commercialism in my life, everywhere you turn you are expected to pay ($7 for a bottle of beer or a brat hot dog—this is after $110 for an end-zone ticket and $25 for parking) or are forced to watch a wide-screen video commercial. Around the inside of the stadium and animated billboards—promotions for soft drinks, banks and products I have never heard of. The in-stadium, big-screen-replay-screens spend more time on commercials than on plays and replays. I sat in a throng of 88,000 others and could not really see much of what was going on football-wise. 

The players have no local loyalty—they are hired mercenaries.  The crowd can be jerked around only so much; the Redskins played so ineptly that the hometown fans turned violently against them as they blundered, fumbled and racked up penalties.  I seldom watch NFL on TV and now I never will again.

I was thoroughly frisked before entering the stadium…”

That seems like a lot of money for a not-so-good time.

Contrast this testimony to my experience at Denton. A charcoal-grilled hamburger cost $2.75—just like the ones from the backyard at home. All non-students paid four dollars to watch the game even if it was possible to watch from the surrounding roadsides without paying. Of course, parking was free. There were no advertisements that I could remember, only a list of booster club members from the Denton area in the game program.

The best part though was that every player on both teams truly represented their school and community. The only recruiting that goes on at this level is the head coach trying to talk a potential student/athlete to join the football team. Some coaches are so successful that over 90 percent of the school's male population dress out every Friday night or Saturday afternoon.

Thankfully I wasn't frisked before the game, but many of the locals knew they hadn't seen my face before when they gave me a nod or smile. A couple of the bolder ones went so far as to ask where I was from—which is a great question in starting a conversation at a small town football game.

Denton, Montana is a great place to take in a small town high school football game. Not only is it in a great setting, but their football program is a reputable one despite losing to Harlowton the day I was in town. The hometown Trojans have made several trips to the six-man title game and even won it all in 1990. Sometime after that, they moved up to eight-man play and in 1994 and 1999 they were the state runner-up.

Of course there's the other attribute associated with Denton—you can fly in for a game and no one needs to give you a ride to the football field. Lear jets are probably out of the question.

The Blind Side

Roberts Aerial Attack
Originally uploaded by mdt1960.

This book just released and its author were featured on National Public Radio recently. The premise of the book is about the evolution of the left tackle position over the past twenty years—now the second highest paid person on the NFL field next to the quarterback.

The book references that fateful and bone-crushing (literally if you recall) tackle by Lawrence Taylor on Joe Theisman during a Monday night game.

Click on the link below to hear the interview by Robert Siegel and read an excerpt from Lewis' book.

Michael Lewis Interview