My Friday Night Lights and remembering the “Stodd Squad”

Hard to believe it’s been forty years since I was last under the lights of Bend High School’s Punk Hunnell Stadium. Emerging from the locker room under the grandstands was a little different with each home game. The mountain air got cooler and crisper each Friday heading toward November, but the ritual was the same. Fifty or more of us would mill around waiting for the signal to head out onto the field. It was a scene repeated all across America, but in Bend it seemed different. I remember thinking how great it was to be playing football surrounded by pine and juniper trees and Pilot Butte in the backdrop. We vacationed here before moving from Portland six years earlier, so I never lost sight of how lucky I was to be a Bend Lava Bear. I also remember thinking there’ll be no practice on Monday.

To be honest, I was the accidental player. For an offensive lineman I was too small, too slow and unskilled but nobody got cut so it was a perfect fit.  I didn’t play football until my junior year when certain friends (attention Rick Baldini and Kent Hills) encouraged me to join. At first I thought they were kidding. Then teacher-assistant coach, Elmer Groener, entered the conversation. He quietly but persistently urged me to join. He sold me and it was as tough and awkward as I imagined. I was completely lost my first year, like George Plimpton in Paper Lion. However I improved enough to become competent my senior year and saw playing time in several blow-out victories. We beat Baker 75-8 and they later accused us of running up the score.  Not true because Stodd played almost three quarters! 

 

Measured against every year since - my football days get smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. Occasionally I remember the frigid cold weekday practices, the hitting, the bruises, the laughter and the feeling of being part of an elite group.  I regret nothing.  I’m forever grateful to my friends and coach Groener for pushing me out of my comfort zone to be part of this uniquely American experience.

A football anecdote:   Because I sucked I was automatically drafted to the “scout” team.  The scrubs were to imitate our upcoming opponent’s plays and scrimmage against the starting unit. The ritual played out every Wednesday. Coaches would yell “Scout Squad!” and we’d slowly saunter to the middle of the practice field. The whole scene invited ridicule so it didn’t take long for someone to bark out, “Time for the Stodd Squad!”   Maybe they didn’t know I was still there.  Oh yeah they did. 

16”x 32” Acrylic and Wax medium on canvas.