Pride and tradition: For the students, it means more than just a game
LINEVILLE — Two Lineville High School cheerleaders pored over the large white sign, their faces strained as they crafted the perfect bubble letter. A teacher had been brought in to help. Every curve, every shadow in the letters mattered. Their mothers, fathers, grandparents and cheerleaders from years gone by would be looking at that sign, judging their craftsmanship. It was Friday, and in a few hours students from Lineville and Clay County High School would crowd around the football field in Lineville and watch their teams play to determine a year's worth of pride. There's something about a football Friday in high school. Tiffs and misunderstandings that happened during the week get mended. Or they boil over in a youthful drama that plays out in the stands while the helmets smack on the field. Just as with painting the perfect letter on a sign, the mood can be tense, exciting and provide a gutful of emotion that, decades later, students will still feel when they see a paper banner drawn taut for a pregame parade. In their closets, pushed way back behind sweaters, they might even find that Clay Bowl 2006 T-shirt that the loudspeaker hawked the day of the game. On this Friday, the students directly invested in the game, the cheerleaders, football players, dance line and band, knew everything had to be perfect. Chase Horn, the 17-year-old quarterback for Clay County and son of the Clay County head coach, ran plays through his head and thought about all the mistakes he couldn't make. “I start to feel a little pressure,” he said quietly, recalling the countless times he had been questioned about the team's performance. “It gets crazy. They ask me, 'Is everyone doing good, everyone doing good in practice? How do they look?'” For many students, parents and residents of Clay County, the Clay Bowl is just a game. It is an excuse to get excited in a quiet county, an excuse to dress up and catch up with old friends. But for the caretakers of the rivalry, the students who are responsible for living the tradition and keeping it alive, the Clay Bowl becomes weeks of worry and pressure. Chelsea Reynolds, a first-year varsity cheerleader for Clay County, knows the pressure, but she was born to bear it, she said. Reynolds, who has green eyes and reddish brown hair, is the daughter of a Clay County cheerleader and a star Clay County football player. Her uncle and her brother coach for the team. Her mom is the cheerleading sponsor. “Since I've been born it's really been an intense thing. Even during church our preacher mentions our players,” she said. “Kids are raised on it, and I have been waiting so long I want to cry.” Lineville and Clay County cheerleaders are responsible for keeping the rivalry hot, Reynolds said. A lot of fans, including her mother, say the game has lost its edge, but Reynolds doesn't want to believe it. Breanna Kidd, a first-year varsity cheerleader at Lineville, said the Lineville cheerleaders cried and prayed their way to the Clay Bowl this year. Both cheerleading squads organize a week's worth of activities for their schools, including dress-up days, pep rallies and bonfires. They make countless signs and decorations, which are judged by fans and opponents, said Danielle Wellborn, a sophomore cheerleader at Lineville, and they must have the perfect dance. “We are ready for it to be over, but it is worth it to hear your dance was better than Ashland,” Wellborn said, as she and the other cheerleaders lamented about the long practices and difficult routine. “We have a lot to live up to.” |
||
The cheerleaders pray before and after every practice, she said. Their dream is to move their bodies as gracefully as the Magnificent Seven, the group of girls who cheered at Lineville a couple of years ago and were said to have been the best. “We've been told we are better than the Magnificent Seven,” she said. “We call ourselves the Perfect Ten.” Dexter Cosby doesn't know what to call himself. He has a problem with the word celebrity, though often the Lineville senior quarterback said he feels like one. “This game is known statewide,” he said, jersey slung over his shoulders. “I feel important. It's emotional.” Last year, when Lineville lost twice to Clay County, Cosby didn't know how to walk down the street. “It is too many people believing in you and trusting. I am going through a lot,” he said. “But I got to handle it.” A lot of people in town bet on the game, and he said men approach him to let him know that every fumble and catch has a dollar amount riding on it. “It should be important if someone's willing to put their paycheck on the line,” he said proudly. Chris Hearn, a senior tight end and linebacker at Lineville, nodded his head in agreement. Cosby's words made him remember last November. He said he cried for a week after Lineville lost, too embarrassed to come out of his room. Hearn and Cosby are the sons of Lineville football players, and they are two of nearly 10 football players who grew up on Kudzu Hill, a small community in Lineville. “They call it the zoo because it's ghetto and it's full of athletes,” Hearn said. “They make it feel like it is a life or death situation. If you lose you better not come out, especially in Kudzu.” Cosby said he doesn't know why Clay Bowl means so much. Like all the other students who had spent weeks practicing and planning for Friday, he guessed it had something to do with pride, tradition and bragging rights. It is important to everyone he loves and respects. But whatever it is, he said, it is more than a game.
Contact Joan Garrett at garre032@bama.ua.edu or 241-1946.
|
