Willie Smith (left) rocks the mic like no other. (Shelli Trumbull photo)
It may sound corny. It may sound cliched. But it’s true — there is really no sporting event quite like small town high school football.
Friday night was no different, as Coupeville opened with a resounding 32-0 thumping of visiting Bellevue Christian.
Less than 24 hours after thunder and lightning roared across Whidbey Island, launching waves of rain in its wake, Friday night turned downright balmy. The sun had been out for several hours, the field (and metal bleachers) had dried, there was only a flicker of wind sweeping across the prairie and two-thirds the town was in attendance.
Coupeville may not be Texas. The entire town may not come to a screeching halt for the Friday Night Lights, but we represent well.
There was much to cheer about and (occasionally) some to boo about, and, what do you know? Not a single ref dropped dead from the boos, which were judicious (these are NOT Raider fans), well-timed and part of the game, proof you can’t regulate human emotion out of fans, no matter how hard officials may try.
But what else did I see?
I saw Pastor Garrett Arnold rolling in his wheelchair, unbowed by the whims of fate, a strong man who remains a testament to perseverance and love, watching his youngest son, Brett, crack heads and lead the Wolves in rushing.
I saw the largest cheerleader squad in all the land prove that when you build a family, it doesn’t matter if you are a “traditional” cheerleader or not.
From bubbly team captains Kenzie Kooch and Julia Felici down to the greenest freshman still tentatively learning their moves, everyone is included, and coach Sylvia Arnold has much to be proud of for what she has built as she winds down her career.
No moment sums up her impact as much as watching Jug and Lisa Bernhardt watching their young daughter Fiona making her debut as a cheerleader, initial shyness blossoming into confidence during her performance.
I saw newcomers to town becoming full-fledged members of Wolf Nation. Tyree and Ramon Booker brought their dad, Terrence, to his feet with their play, as Tyree hauled in a sparkling interception.
Matt Shank, son of the new superintendent and a Utah transplant, wasn’t eligible to suit up yet, but he ran balls in to the refs like his life depended on it.
Then there was senior Xavier Clark, a transfer from Oak Harbor who got tripped up by a web of rules at the last second. He will have to play JV only after a ruling went against him, but you would never have known it from his demeanor.
Hefting a megaphone, dancing on a tabletop, thumping fellow lineman Nick Streubel on the shoulder pads, screaming “The Wolves … ATTACK!!” until he was hoarse, Xavier rocked the entire house.
I saw Wolf baseball guru Willie Smith move behind the microphone, working his unique brand of announcing in tandem with analyst Joel Norris.
Keeping a long-standing tradition alive, and goaded on by Robert Pelant, Smith harassed Wolf parent Steve Marx from the moment he walked in the stadium, issuing fake birthday and wedding anniversary notices that would fly over the casual fan’s head, but hit dead-center for diehards.
But no call will resonate quite the way “Balls… Balls…” will.
In the afterglow of the game, as the cheer squad led a dance-along to Macklemore’s “Can’t Hold Us” (the replacement for “The Wobble”), former players like Dalton Engle and Caleb Valko congratulated the current stars.
Photos were taken and hugs exchanged (I got one from Mekare Bowen, the most brilliant young woman I know and now, somehow, a senior CHS cheerleader).
And, at the end, a moment with Wolf QB Gunnar Langvold, a player who means more to me than what stats he puts up (and he put up nice stats Friday, throwing for two touchdowns and rushing for another).
Gunnar, as he would be the first to admit, has had his issues.
Seeing him strong and committed, prospering both as a football player and as a young man who I want to see graduate and be safe and successful, matters far more than the score on the big board in the end zone.
We are all proud of you, Gunnar.
Coupeville Sports 