High School Madness and Magic

I was recently in San Fransisco, CA. for a conference. I walked around downtown San Fran one night, but I was not as scared there as I was this past Friday night... 

Last week, Josh says to me, "Want to go to a basketball game on Friday night?" I said, sure. We like sports and always enjoy going in person. He told me it was the local high school in town that was in the sectionals (like semi-finals) for the championship. Sounded fine to me.

Middle of the week, I learn that the game is not being played here. No...we will be traveling to Princeton, IL. About an hour and a half away. Um...okay...seemed kind of crazy to me, but Josh use to referee high school basketball games and I know this is of interest to him. I figured why not. On Friday, it is snowing...I am concerned... "are we still traveling to Princeton?" Yes, yes we are. Okay!

We got to Princeton, and as we went to park, I immediately wondered what was going on. There were cars everywhere around the Princeton High School gym, where the game was being hosted. There were people walking everywhere to get inside. What the heck was going on? Surely there was another event at the school or in the surrounding area. Were all these people here to see a Monmouth high school basketball game?

We walked inside and the gym is PACKED! (So, yes, they were.) This small high school gym is swimming with people. Who were these people? As we walk in, people are saying hello...people we know. People from Monmouth! As we enter to look for a seat, which we luckily found, I am staring in awe around me. There are all kinds of Monmouth town people there -- an hour and a half away -- and I say to Josh, "Do they all have kids in the high school?" (Knowing full well that some do not...). He says, "No. They are just here to support, like us." Oh yeah, right...there's us. As I wondered who would be crazy enough to follow a team that your kid is not connected to, I realize...we drove an hour and a half to be there too...

We sat down and I just looked around at the sea of people. The sounds of the small gym were out of control. Cheerleaders practicing, students from the two high schools (likely bused here as groups) dressed up and cheering, townspeople of all ages cheering as the team comes out on to the floor. The bleachers were tight and we were all crammed in, it's hot, it's noisy, it's unstable (I feel the bleachers give a bit as everyone stands to cheer and worry about our safety)...and it's...utterly amazing!

I tell Josh that I have never seen something like this in my life. He looks at me confused, asking me, "Didn't you ever go to a high school football game?" Um...yes, I am sure I did. But two points should be noted. First and foremost, high school was a long time ago for me so if I did have this experience, I do not recall. Second, I went to a high school with thousands of students (GO Bolingbrook High!), and even if we had a high school basketball game, I don't recall it being like this. Sure, we went and cheered on our team. We followed our teams to championship games. We stood by their side. But I don't think the whole town did. I explain to him that it is not the same.

As the game proceeds, the crowd is truly engaged. I look around and men are taking notes in their program on who is scoring at which time; people have headphones in to listen to the radio broadcast, children are cheering and wearing their Monmouth t-shirts and sweatshirts, and not one single person looks disengaged or bored. Everyone is on the edge of their seats. The crowd is huge. I look around. It's packed. I turn to Josh and say, "I would hate to have a heart attack in this place." No way out. All these people came to watch their hometown team.

That's what it is, I realize. Circle the wagons for the hometown team. It didn't matter if you had a kid in high school. These were all our kids. Everyone knew them, grew up with them. They were all one. It was a community coming together. It was a small town experience like none other.

In amazement, I watched men in the crowd, grown men, yell at the refs. Really yelling. It made me laugh. They can't hear you, and even if they can, do you think they are going to change their call because of you? Yet, they yell. It intensifies. Scarier than downtown San Fran at night! (I later told Josh that the refs should leave out the backdoor in a disguise, and ask Josh "why would you ever want to do that?!" His response, "Oh but it is so fun!"). People get angry, people cheer, people scream. Some of the team starters foul out and have to take a seat on the bench. I stand, sit, stand -- all smashed in the middle of it. The game is intense and at the drop of a basket in the last seconds, it goes into overtime. Then four minutes of play later, it goes into double overtime. People are on the edge of their seats. I am finding myself cheering and screaming now too -- on the edge of my seat. Our hometown heroes have to win. They have to. Every waits with their breathe held -- for the final buzzer. We lost, sadly. But the pride in the team never diminished. And, in town, all week, you could hear people talking about the game, as if their own son played as a starter. Because, in a small town, it's everyone's son.

I loved it. It was magical. It was truly a small town moment that I thanked Josh for exposing me to and sharing with me. Friday night, I enjoyed living in Monmouth!