Bosh Bowl (remix)

It was a Saturday night, and at neutral host Del Campo High, the lights were on for the sporting event of the century. The crowd was raucous, a sea of red swaying to the pulse of its own heartbeat. Ah, the high school football game – epicenter of teenage society, small-town society, American society. Usually a community event. But this time, the hearts and minds of the McClatchy faithful belonged to one individual.

With regards to his legacy, Josh “Bosh” Edwards (‘18) called his bowl a “game-changer.” As the game opened, this certainly appeared to be the case. Never had one player dominated the narrative of a team contest so completely. #Boshbowl was competitive with #Holybowl, the tradition-steeped catholic school showdown, on Twitter. Josh’s name graced Legion’s only sign and was the subject of our earliest chant. A paramedic stood behind the end zone, ready to attend to his victims.

Will Bosh score? The real question is when? Many had their money on his game-opening kickoff return. As Rio Americano’s kicker approached the ball, the energy was palpable.

But from this earliest of moments forward, things went wrong. Like a lame butterfly, the kick fluttered and fell after a measly twenty yards, well short of the waiting Bosh. The ball bounced off a McClatchy blocker and was recovered by the Raiders, who promptly marched down the field and scored a touchdown.

We conceded possession on the opening kickoff, a procedure that exists for the sole purpose of giving us the ball. To draw a parallel, we lost a battle during the enemy’s surrender. In Legion, anguish was everywhere.

Rio scored again and again, perforating our defense like Swiss cheese. Each look at the scoreboard sent daggers through the heart. 21-0. 35-7. 42-7.

After a while, though, McClatchy diehards realized defensive stops were no longer desirable, for every opponent touchdown afforded our beloved #44 a chance to return a kickoff.

But each opportunity disappointed. Not a single kickoff was in his vicinity, and the beast that is Josh Edwards was starved. Rio Americano: cowards.

One punt was returnable, however. Bosh caught it and charged valiantly downfield. Legion found life; cameras were rolling. The run had all the makings of an iconic sports moment. But alas! Rio defenders swarmed our returner, and through sheer numbers, dragged him to the ground as a pack of wolves would a proud stag.

Legion was deflated. A Jacob Forget (‘18) interception resuscitated us, but only for a moment. The night was over, as far as football was concerned.

But all was not lost. While a game is close, you see, spectators, immersed in the passion of competition, cheer with disregard for all else.

At a certain point in a losing effort, however, a sudden dash of sobriety hits. The tempest calms and people look around as if for the first time, feeling foolish for their earnestness. It’s like when the lights come on at the end of a concert. No, Mick Jagger won’t serenade you forever. Cease your fist-pumping.

It's at this moment of awareness that the fans become detached enough to have the perspective necessary for self-deprecation. Liberated from the intensity of a close game, we finally see the humor in our predicament. “We still love you!” shouted one fan, after a particularly bad sequence. 49-10

“We really love you!” screamed another after a sign of life. 49-13.

And it was true. Legion found kinship over the blowout, and everyone had a fun time.

So how will Bosh Bowl be remembered? Crushing defeat on the field, or resounding triumph of the spirit? There was pain to be sure, but the camaraderie we discovered was special. Josh himself was disappointed by the outcome, but noted that “fan support was great. Shout-out to Bosh.”

Shout-out to Bosh indeed.

 The spectacle was, as Charles Dickens says, “the best of times, it was the worst of times ...  it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

But mostly, it was a great day to be a Lion.