I'm just giving fair warning...I am going to be a seventh-grader again all this week. I'm not shrinking from my responsibilities, or making stupid jokes and snapping people with towels in the locker room.
Something happened long ago that I'm not sure I got over. Saturday, it will come full circle.
Those seventeen improbable November days in 1981 when a few dozen farm boys who "didn't' know they were supposed to lose" kept winning all the way to the Class 1A state finals.
It's Devin Anderson - someone who hung with my brothers and was way cooler than I'll ever dream of being in 100 life times talking to me in the locker room nestled under the old gym.
Devin was my neighbor so obviously he talked to me a lot - but this time was different. When I was too big for junior football pants he helped me dig through varsity jerseys - for a few minutes I was attached to the team - actually wearing THEIR pants.
It's loving the number 22. Jerry Hammon and his Fan Club (Mostly the work of the Jackson family). Complete with banners fashioned from bed sheets bearing his silhouette on the roof. Long before Emmett led America's team to three Super Bowl crowns, Jerry made 22 famous to me.
It's Barry Ehle dashing 90-plus yards on a kickoff for a touchdown. And years later Barry calling me Mr. Jackson, as if he was trying to pay me honor and always ALWAYS stopping to talk with me when I'd stumble into him. (Again I think he was respecting my brothers Dale and Duane more than anything.)
It's Brent Werling snagging an interception well on his way to a touchdown before it was called a touch back... and of course the horrible tragedy at Hamilton Lake.
It's an Artic blast that ripped through even the thickest of plastic and multiple layers of protection from the better cold and drizzle we eskimos endured for Big Blue.
Who could forget the idiot on the Hamilton Southeastern sideline wearing shorts?
It's a jack-knifed semi somewhere on I-69 and napping till traffic got restarted.
It's Matt Hirsch lining up for a field goal and narrowly missing it. And years later, he told me proudly he was the only player on the team who never watched the film of the game. Matt was politely defiant and but made it clear in no uncertain terms, "I told coach. I was there. I know what I saw. I don't need to relive it."
And, I'll tell you, I don't think Matt was avoiding the memory.
It's those memories and more that have stuck with me these 13,133 days later. (And honestly, I thought the day would come again... and it almost did in 1989 and 2015)
It's then Miami University football coach Terry Hoeppner, the Woodlan alum, introducing me to his wife as "my friend from Woodlan." at a football banquet. And, more a statement him paying honor to the program and the school more than me.
It's long-term Carmel coach Keith Fiedler giving me a tour of the stadium there - All I had to do was say Woodlan, and the kingdom opened up. One of the storied programs -- led by a Warrior.
If you didn't go to Woodlan, you won't get it. That's okay.
I humbly tell you - I've done championships in a lot of sports, I've interviewed Hall of Famers.
Doing games has taken me to 39 states and three countries. Even so, the most important sports figures and events I'll ever be associated can be traced to two games:
Friday, November 20, 1981 -
Class 1A State Championship -
Hamilton Southeastern 7, Woodlan 6...
And now Saturday November 24, 2017.
Class 2A State Championship -
Woodlan vs. TBA
God-willing I'll be there Saturday.
