Guest Posts on County 10 are provided by contributors and the opinions, thoughts, and comments within are their own and may not necessarily reflect those of County 10.
Cory Griffith lives and dies with the success or failure of the Lusk Tigers and Lady Tigers. Cory travels with the football team and the basketball teams, writing sports for the Lusk Herald.
Last Friday, an intriguing game pitted the visiting Greybull Buffs against the host Tigers in a 9-man Class 1-A interconference matchup.
The Lusk field is outstanding. The Tigers play on one of a handful of artificial surfaces in the 1-A 9-man division.
As I watched the two teams go at it under the lights of Gibson Field on Fullmer Field, I noticed another good game going on behind the west end zone. Lusk is one of those teams that has an east-west orientation to their field.
In Fremont County, no one has that alignment, but Dubois did until just a few years ago, and Wind River transitioned from the tight field at Morton to another field near the now-demolished elementary school in the late 1980s and early 90s.
In the end zone, kids were playing football. A handful of taller boys, a couple of girls, and tons of little tykes trying their hand on the gridiron for the first time. It’s a rite of passage in a small town for the local kids to play alongside the high school field as a game is played.
It seems like yesterday, but more than three decades have passed since a Friday, October 20, 1989, (thanks to Wyoming-football.com) game in Shoshoni. I was on the sidelines with the late Harold Bailey and his venerable assistant, Tim Ervin. We were playing Wind River.
My son Brian had just turned three a couple of weeks before and wanted to go to the game. My dad always loved the Shoshoni / Wind River game and agreed to help watch Brian.
Dad was a farmer, and talking to other farmers and ranchers remains a big part of the Cougar / Wrangler rivalry to this day..
The Cougars were taking it to us, and I forgot about Brian. Dad was talking in the stands, and though he was just three, he made his way to the perpetual football game played on the east side of Bailey Field.
Out of the darkness, he arrived on the sideline. I noticed him out of the corner of my eye as a Wind River running back was tackled out of bounds straight for him.
Bron Ston, one of our offensive tackles, was between us. Brown calmly picked Brian up by the back of his sweatshirt, the Wind River kid slid out of bounds where he’d been standing, and then Bron put him down.
I told Brian to go sit with grandpa.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Bron said.
Bron was a big kid, pushing 6-5.
I looked up at him and said, “No problem, you saved his life.”
Today, Bron is a neighbor to the north of Brian and Katelin’s place off Burma Road.
Time has a way of slipping away.
I wish the “adults” in the stands could learn the lesson of joyful abandon in just playing a game you love the way little kids do. It would be refreshing rather than hearing the cascade of negative comments towards coaches, officials, and other kids on the team from some of the nastier “fans.”
Athletics should be fun for the kids who play and their friends who support them. The litany of complaint, derision, and borderline abuse that some of these kids face from mom and dad on the way home from games is why many coaches require the players to ride the bus home.
At least on the return trip, they won’t have to listen to the criticism dished on them, their coaches, and the officials by the “adults” living vicariously through the play of their teenage son or daughter.
Was it always this way?
Nope. Parents once knew their roles, as did board members. It might be a lively discussion on Saturday morning at the local feed store, barber shop, or gas station on the outcome of the game the night before, but it wasn’t laid out in public as it is now on social media.
I received a call from my old friend and opposing coach, Pat Neely of Wright. Pat was on his way to a fishing trip and called to let me know that Riverside High School in Basin is naming their track in honor of their late coach Jim Gibbs.
Jim was a character to say the least, but a memorable one who put the kids from Basin and Manderson first. The ceremony is on Friday, October 17, at 11:30 am.
Jim joins a long list of coaches who have received this honor.
I mentioned Fullmer Field earlier, named after Jerry Fullmer. Leroy Sinner Field in Pavillion, and Alfred P. Redman Gymnasium at Wyoming Indian.
Shoshoni named their old football complex Bailey Field in honor of Harold, but the new field never heard his whistle, inspiration, or sarcastic banter. I still call it Bailey Field, but I’m not sure it is accurate.
Other fields and gyms that come to mind should be considered by their local leadership.
David Trembly Field in Dubois is an obvious choice. But another place will have a challenge to face in naming its facility.
Alfred Redman Gym should remain forever, but how about naming the floor after Aleta Moss and Craig Ferris?
When you’re as successful in a sport as the Chiefs and Lady Chiefs have been in basketball, it creates a quandary.
What isn’t a quandary is the cross-country course at the Intertribal Stadium north of Wyoming Indian High School. They named it in honor of Chico Her Many Horses just last week, an honor that is well deserved for a man who put Wyoming Indian distance running on the map as one of the greatest programs to ever compete in Wyoming.
Time passes. Boys grow up to be men, those girls sprinting, hurdling, and hitting kill shots become moms, and if you’re around long enough, they become grandmothers.
It’s all on the wheel of time.