Fans get eerily quiet when outcome is no longer in doubt 

Quiet storm - It was a blustery afternoon at Beacon Middle School April 21, for a boys’ lacrosse game between two undefeated teams – Beacon and Fred Thomas. The Fred Thomas team jumped to an early lead and never looked back. The final was 12-4. The crowd condensed to the one section of bleachers, and what struck me was the sounds of silence interrupted by the occasional pterodactyl shriek. Simultaneously, a glide path away, the Beacon girls were playing Fred Thomas, with both teams unbeaten. That game ended in a 9-9 tie. By rule, middle schools do not play overtime. I may be old, but I’m not an old yeller. I’m more of a disgruntled mumbler.  

Penn Relays - The Penn Relays are always held the last weekend in April. The event features 10,000 athletes competing over four days. The mixture is high school teams through college and Olympians. The meet showcases Franklin Field and the University of Pennsylvania campus in West Philly. Anyone who has ever run at the Penn Relays carries the stories for a lifetime. Races run like clockwork, and if your clock doesn't work and you don’t check in early, you will be left out. I first heard the words Cape Henlopen in 1974 when my wife Susan said, “I think it’s one of the 200 schools you applied to.” My response, “Possibly, although I never heard of the place. Where is it? Your sandwich, it’s in the cooler. Do you want it now?” “A Hero Ain’t Nothin’ But a Sandwich” was a 1973 novel and film by Alice Childress. It means “heroes are ordinary fallible people rather than mythical people.” I think that’s why every year the Penn Relays produces so many heroes. But my tripping self believes I make the podium when it comes to telling stories of traveling to Franklin Field with Cape kids.  

Collective consciousness - “You play to win the game”– former NFL coach Herm Edwards. The Phillies employ about 1,800 people. Professional sports franchises are organized to win games – that is the mission. And when teams go belly up and stop winning, everyone in the organization suffers seasonal affective disorder. Any employee who is happy to come to work when the team record is below the waterline must have walked in front of the pitching machine when it was set to fastball. I believe the organizations first fire faces, like Canadian-born manager Rob Thomson. Everyone knows it ain't his fault, but his face and demeanor may send him to the beer refrigerator stocked with Labatt and Molson.   

Walking the wobbler - A marathon runner loses communication with their legs in sight of the finish line. The focus is always the finish. The profile of an age-group runner is self-absorption blended with compassionate care for comrades in the same race. Footage from the Boston Marathon showed two runners supporting a weeble-wobbler, literally dragging him to the finish line. Imagine showing up in intensive care as a candy striper and dragging a patient a few laps around the unit for his own sense of self-satisfaction. By the way, I’ve caught a few crashers and assisted them across the line and sat them in the ice chair, but what thanks did I get? None, those jokers were delirious. Athletes go down in other sports, but fans don’t come out of the stands and start walking them around. The three words I hear covering high school sports when an injury drops an athlete are, “Call the trainer!”  

Loyal like a Labrador - You may be a lovable loser in life, but your Lab loves you anyway because it is their nature. But I’m not a Labrador, more of a German Rotty. And as a Phillies fan who was born two blocks from Connie Mack Stadium, I am not loving this rendition of the Phillies. Some say, “You are a fair-weather fan but not a rainy-day fan.” I answer, “Call me when they reach .500 and I’ll start paying attention again.” My backup team is the Athletics. They are real Philly, and Zack Gelof – a Cape guy who knows my name – plays for them and they are currently leading the AL West. I think all pro sports fans should have a backup team for shared focus. 

Herky - Herky Billings is a one-name muppet. I first met him in 1975 when Cape football was scrimmaging Middletown. A face mask is most useful to keep coaches like Herky from getting any closer. And a voice like one of the Gibbs brothers – not Lewes, but more like Australia. Think Friday Night Fever. Herky was inducted into the Delaware Afro American Sports Hall of Fame April 18. Herky is the Irwin Corey of Wing-T football (world’s foremost authority). He sees all 11 moving parts simultaneously. He served as offensive coordinator for Bill Collick at Delaware State and Cape. Herky was Dr. Dave Robinson’s designated driver, taking Dave to physical therapy sessions after a bike accident. The players understood Herky. I remember a game at Dover in 2010. Jerome Johnson was the bell-cow running back – everything inside. Cape was trailing by a touchdown. During a time-out, Herky walked into the offensive huddle and got all over Jerome. Cape continued to feed Jerome the ball and he led the Vikings to a 25-24 victory, amassing 175 total yards for the game. I asked Herky afterward: “Jerome is the guy you go after in the huddle?” Herky answered: “He was tired and starting to slack. He's the guy we needed. He can rest on the bus ride home.”     

Snippets - Here’s some college softball information featuring local players from Cape Class of 2025. Ava Calciano (UConn) is hitting .297 with two homers. Alivia Heers (St. Joe’s) is batting .323 with two homers. Hayden Hudson (Catholic University) is batting .294 with a homer. Abby Marsh (Delaware Tech) has a 1.76 ERA with 99 strikeouts. Eden Frederick (Furman) has a .309 batting average. Boosters make posters for player milestones and upcoming games, and players wear bling after games and are celebrated by media outlets. The game is leaving my orbit like an Artemis rocket. Go on now, git!