Home Team

The parking lot was full. The gymnasium was pulsating with music through the brick wall. Couples, grandparents, and kids were hustling through the cold air to get in line for the big game.

In the lobby of my high school I shuffled into line not really sure where it ended. The man behind me said, "You were ahead of me."

"Oh, I wasn't paying attention. I'm surprised how many people are already here."

"Big rivalry, these two schools."

Yes. Even twenty years ago the other team, then the Tigers, was the powerhouse rival. Despite a new name, mascot, and student body, the Mariners are as fierce as its former name suggested.

Energy was coursing through the air. The stands were full even before the first game. People made openings and offered arms and shoulders to hoist their neighbors and friends into the stands. People called to each other or stopped for a quick hello. By halftime of the first game it was standing-room only.

Every other face was familiar-I recognized school mates or their parents, teachers, newer friends from church or around town. And despite not being able to talk to all of them, it was comfortable having all those familiar faces nearby cheering for the same team.

The music was loud. We yelled and cheered. The cheerleaders performed. The players ran hard and fast. Only the occasional taunt, protest, and "boo" was heard from opposite sides of the court mostly in good fun. It was loud, intense, exciting, and happy.

At 9 seconds left, the game could have gone either way, but it didn't. After one overtime, the hometeam spoiled it for the rivals by two points, one goal.

The place was wild with noise and celebration. Elation and disappointment mixed together. Clapping, cheering, hand slaps, fist pumps, and hugs.

Another community rite--cheering on the home team!