I've heard my daddy say it a hundred times. "It's hard to beat the same team twice."
And he's right. I've seen it over and over again in football games. And the same concept applies to basketball. I call it the Rule of 3.
In basketball, teams typically face each other twice during the regular season, trading home and away. Then, the season ends with an area tournament where teams will meet for a third time. By then, everyone knows what to expect from the other team on the floor. You're familiar, you're ready, and sometimes, you're looking for revenge.
Ranburne's 2012-2013 basketball season has been hit and miss. At times, the boys in purple and white look like stars. Other times, they reveal their youth. Without a Senior on the team, the Dawgs have relied heavily on 14 and 15 year-olds. Which is nothing new. These guys have been the Varsity team for a while. So, what looked like a mediocre-at-best 7 wins entering the area tournment takes on a whole new meaning when you realize that it's double the win total for the past 3 seasons.
Coach had his work cut out for him, but he's had some great tools to work with. The 12 guys that fill Ranburne's roster are some of the best. They work hard, and what's more...they actually love basketball.
They had to love it not to quit after the first week of Bailey-style practice. They didn't quit. They ran and sweated and sucked wind and ran some more. And they did it with smiles on their faces. You couldn't ask for more effort or better attitudes. Even if they weren't winning every game.
Winning every game, they weren't. They seemed to be trying to invent new ways to lose, like blowing a 26 point lead over Ohatchee at home. The Indians beat them again at their place. Both times, I was sure ours was the better team. And the Dawgs were going to get a chance to prove it at the area tournament.
The tournament braket had the 1 seed Pleasant Valley facing Woodland, who earned the 4 seed by virtue of a play in game with Wellborn. Ohatchee and Ranburne would play the 2/3 matchup. So, everyone headed to PV last Friday night to watch the Rule of 3 play out like clockwork.
Ohatchee took a lead in the first half of game one, but it wouldn't be enough. The Dawgs had learned their lesson and shut down the Indians' duel 3-point shooters. They tried cover our scoring leaders as well, but ours isn't a two-man team. Ranburne did their job and put OHS out of the tourney.
Then it was time for PV, with their 8-0 area record, to take on Woodland, with only 4 wins all season. But, basketball is a funny game. It's all about matchups. Ranburne beat Woodland by 30+ and 15+. PV beat Ranburne by 20+ both tines. But, Woodland played PV closer than any area team had all season, taking them to overtime once. So, it came as no surprise when 4-win Woodland came out 8 points better than the Senior-laden Raiders.
And, because truth is stranger than fiction, Ranburne would face Woodland for the Area Championship. Got to love irony.
Except, I didn't love it. I hadn't considered the possibility of playing them again. Nor did I want to. That whole Rule of 3 thing again.
The Dawgs had seen the trend and had been warned that they'd be in a dog fight. Even so, Woodland took a 7-point lead in at the half. If it were still the first half of the season, that might've been enough to get our young bunch rattled, make them force shots, get them frustrated and then panicked. But, sometime over the last three months, these guys had grown up some and had learned to win.
The Dawgs took control in the second half. The game remained close, but you could tell by the body language of the players which team was chasing. We played calm and smart and aggressive. Every player made his contribution. Each one equally significant. An entire team playing unselfishly. It was, indeed, a dog fight, and the Cats didn't really stand a chance. And, at night's end, the area championship belonged to the Bulldogs.
For every rule, there are exceptions. Coach's team has been described as consistently inconsistent. And it's true, they've looked like a hot mess at times. But when it truly mattered, they were exceptional.
Congratulations to Coach on his first ever basketball area championship and to the 12 exceptional young men on his team.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Pink Wigs and Mud Pits
When I signed up for the Warrior Dash back in August, I had no idea what life had in store for me. I guess it decided that if it were obstacles I wanted, it was obstacles I was going to get. So, by the time I joined the 499 other brave souls at the starting line that day, the 3.2 miles and 14 obstacles that lay ahead of me didn't seem like much.
I decided to tackle this event as a challenge. I haven't pushed myself physically since the days of college cheerleading, and I just wanted to see if I could do it. Throughout my two months of training, I had one goal: finish. I knew it wouldn't be pretty. I wasn't trying to beat anyone. I had nothing to prove to anyone other than myself. And I was ready.
I didn't really know what to expect as I rode to Warrior, Alabama, on October 6th. But, I knew that whatever it was wouldn't defeat me. And after 50 minutes of battling mud and freezing cold water and barbed wire and temperatures in the 40s, I saw what I needed to see. I'm tougher than I look. In fact, it was more fun than anything. I wasn't even out of breath as I crossed that finish line. I was, however, covered...I mean COVERED in mud. It's like someone replaced my clothes with mud. And my hair. And my skin. But, I'd finished. And I didn't beak anything but a sweat and a fingernail.
The second obstacle of the day was an alternating series of mud ponds and mud hills that we had to maneuver through. It was the hardest one to me. It was impossible to get a foothold and the water was super cold. A random guy stood at the top of one of the mounds, offering to help others up. I didn't accept his help. I was being a beast. Two mounds later, I wish he'd been there, but I finally got over the top. It was great to see someone so willing to sacrifice to help others who were struggling. His finish time will hardly reflect what he did that day. In a world where most people see someone struggle and sprint to the front of the line to be the first to throw stones at them, the kind, Super Mario-dressed stranger inspired me. Thanks, whoever you are. It was amazing to see how perfect strangers helped each other out and cheered each other on. It was a great experience. It renewed a little of my faith in people. And thank goodness. I've had to think about those mud-plastered strangers a time or two lately, as a reminder that there are some good people out there.
The Warrior Dash was awesome. So much fun. But, the obstacle courses in life aren't often as enjoyable. Still, the goal is the same. Finish. You'd like to do it with as much dignity and grace as possible. But sometimes, you've just got to put on a pink wig and army crawl through 12 inches of muddy water. And, you can't worry about what everyone, or anyone for that matter, thinks. In the end, it's your life. The people who want to see you fail, who delight in your trials, who kick you while you're down, they don't matter anyway. They're pathetic. But, there are a few people waiting for you at the finish line, encouraging you along the way. Those people matter.
Which one would you be? When someone is going through a hard time, are you secretly rejoicing in their failures, encouraging them and cheering them on from the finish line, or are you Super Mario offering them a helping hand? I don't know about you, but I'm going to invest in a pair of blue overalls and a red hat.
I decided to tackle this event as a challenge. I haven't pushed myself physically since the days of college cheerleading, and I just wanted to see if I could do it. Throughout my two months of training, I had one goal: finish. I knew it wouldn't be pretty. I wasn't trying to beat anyone. I had nothing to prove to anyone other than myself. And I was ready.
I didn't really know what to expect as I rode to Warrior, Alabama, on October 6th. But, I knew that whatever it was wouldn't defeat me. And after 50 minutes of battling mud and freezing cold water and barbed wire and temperatures in the 40s, I saw what I needed to see. I'm tougher than I look. In fact, it was more fun than anything. I wasn't even out of breath as I crossed that finish line. I was, however, covered...I mean COVERED in mud. It's like someone replaced my clothes with mud. And my hair. And my skin. But, I'd finished. And I didn't beak anything but a sweat and a fingernail.
The second obstacle of the day was an alternating series of mud ponds and mud hills that we had to maneuver through. It was the hardest one to me. It was impossible to get a foothold and the water was super cold. A random guy stood at the top of one of the mounds, offering to help others up. I didn't accept his help. I was being a beast. Two mounds later, I wish he'd been there, but I finally got over the top. It was great to see someone so willing to sacrifice to help others who were struggling. His finish time will hardly reflect what he did that day. In a world where most people see someone struggle and sprint to the front of the line to be the first to throw stones at them, the kind, Super Mario-dressed stranger inspired me. Thanks, whoever you are. It was amazing to see how perfect strangers helped each other out and cheered each other on. It was a great experience. It renewed a little of my faith in people. And thank goodness. I've had to think about those mud-plastered strangers a time or two lately, as a reminder that there are some good people out there.
The Warrior Dash was awesome. So much fun. But, the obstacle courses in life aren't often as enjoyable. Still, the goal is the same. Finish. You'd like to do it with as much dignity and grace as possible. But sometimes, you've just got to put on a pink wig and army crawl through 12 inches of muddy water. And, you can't worry about what everyone, or anyone for that matter, thinks. In the end, it's your life. The people who want to see you fail, who delight in your trials, who kick you while you're down, they don't matter anyway. They're pathetic. But, there are a few people waiting for you at the finish line, encouraging you along the way. Those people matter.
Which one would you be? When someone is going through a hard time, are you secretly rejoicing in their failures, encouraging them and cheering them on from the finish line, or are you Super Mario offering them a helping hand? I don't know about you, but I'm going to invest in a pair of blue overalls and a red hat.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
First Meet Mishaps
I was so excited and nervous about Devin's first swim meet. He had 8 real practices prior to this first meet, so I wasn't expecting to see a Michael Phelps-like performance. I really just wanted him to enjoy it.
We arrived at Ft. McClellan at 7:45 am and waited for war ups to begin. Swim meets are unlike anything I've ever been a part of. Keeping track of event numbers and lane assignments is a little stressful. Fortunately, I had Coach there to help. He doesn't get rattled like I do. I paid the 5 bucks for the "heat sheet" and highlighted Devin's entries. Then I wrote them on his arm with a Sharpie, because that's apparently what you do. Each swimmer sports his event number, event, heat number, and lane assignment in a grid on his body somewhere. It helps the swimmer keep track of when they swim.
Devin seemed to be taking it all in stride. He admitted that he was nervous, though. Then, warmups began. I anxiously waited to see him dive off the block. He had about 4 previous attempts at practice ever. I couldn't help but smile when I saw him looking better and more confident than ever off the block.
The meet began, and we waited for Devin's first swim which wasn't until event 14. We waited a while. Then Coach took him to the bullpen, the area where they line up swimmers whose events are happening soon. Devin marches out to the pool with the others in his heat and sets up behind lane 5. The announcer calls for the swimmers to approach the blocks. He instructs them to take their marks. The buzzer sounds. Devin dives in - and it was the best dive I've ever seen him do. I see his tiny body gliding through the water. He surfaces, about to take his first strokes, when I realize...something's wrong. His goggles had slid down as he dove in. They were loosely draped around his neck. He finished the race last in his heat. The water in his eyes bothered him and slowed him considerably. But he'd finished.
My Devin is a perfectionist. And, as he made his way back to our seat in the stands, the disappointment on his face was obvious. Poor little guy. He sat down beside me and choked on some tears. Time to put on my momma hat.
I let him talk about what happened. He was upset. I knew he wanted to disappear, but he had three races left. It was time that he start learning some of the lessons that sports can teach us. I explained to him that, sometimes, things go wrong. It happens to EVERYONE. I wanted him to understand that it's not our mistakes that define us; it's our response to them. I asked him what he'd learned from the experience. He answered, "Not to let my goggles come off." He was being stubborn. :-) Eventually, he began to see that he did the right thing. I was super proud of him. Some kids would've stopped swimming. Not Devin. Did the race turn out as he'd hoped? No. But, did he do the best he could under the given circumstances? Absolutely. Who could ask for more than that?
He was still bothered, so we left the pool to get lunch. I thought some fresh air might help. Coach talked with him about not letting one 'loss' keep him from giving his all in the next event. Together, we got the message across. Crap happens. Learn from it and let it motivate you to make the most of your next opportunity. Don't let it defeat you.
He had an oppertunity to swim the same stroke and distance as part of the 200 free relay later in the day. This time, the goggles stayed on, and Devin was all smiles. Maybe he learned something about himself today. Perhaps we can all learn something from him.
Crap happens. And, life can be really tough. When you get knocked down in life, though, you're probably not going to find too many cheerleaders waiting to help you get back in the game. Instead, you'll find out that there are some really miserable people who get to feel better about themselves by rejoicing in your trials. People will gossip, lie, and bad-mouth you at every turn. But, it doesn't matter. You've got another race to swim.
We arrived at Ft. McClellan at 7:45 am and waited for war ups to begin. Swim meets are unlike anything I've ever been a part of. Keeping track of event numbers and lane assignments is a little stressful. Fortunately, I had Coach there to help. He doesn't get rattled like I do. I paid the 5 bucks for the "heat sheet" and highlighted Devin's entries. Then I wrote them on his arm with a Sharpie, because that's apparently what you do. Each swimmer sports his event number, event, heat number, and lane assignment in a grid on his body somewhere. It helps the swimmer keep track of when they swim.
Devin seemed to be taking it all in stride. He admitted that he was nervous, though. Then, warmups began. I anxiously waited to see him dive off the block. He had about 4 previous attempts at practice ever. I couldn't help but smile when I saw him looking better and more confident than ever off the block.
The meet began, and we waited for Devin's first swim which wasn't until event 14. We waited a while. Then Coach took him to the bullpen, the area where they line up swimmers whose events are happening soon. Devin marches out to the pool with the others in his heat and sets up behind lane 5. The announcer calls for the swimmers to approach the blocks. He instructs them to take their marks. The buzzer sounds. Devin dives in - and it was the best dive I've ever seen him do. I see his tiny body gliding through the water. He surfaces, about to take his first strokes, when I realize...something's wrong. His goggles had slid down as he dove in. They were loosely draped around his neck. He finished the race last in his heat. The water in his eyes bothered him and slowed him considerably. But he'd finished.
My Devin is a perfectionist. And, as he made his way back to our seat in the stands, the disappointment on his face was obvious. Poor little guy. He sat down beside me and choked on some tears. Time to put on my momma hat.
I let him talk about what happened. He was upset. I knew he wanted to disappear, but he had three races left. It was time that he start learning some of the lessons that sports can teach us. I explained to him that, sometimes, things go wrong. It happens to EVERYONE. I wanted him to understand that it's not our mistakes that define us; it's our response to them. I asked him what he'd learned from the experience. He answered, "Not to let my goggles come off." He was being stubborn. :-) Eventually, he began to see that he did the right thing. I was super proud of him. Some kids would've stopped swimming. Not Devin. Did the race turn out as he'd hoped? No. But, did he do the best he could under the given circumstances? Absolutely. Who could ask for more than that?
He was still bothered, so we left the pool to get lunch. I thought some fresh air might help. Coach talked with him about not letting one 'loss' keep him from giving his all in the next event. Together, we got the message across. Crap happens. Learn from it and let it motivate you to make the most of your next opportunity. Don't let it defeat you.
He had an oppertunity to swim the same stroke and distance as part of the 200 free relay later in the day. This time, the goggles stayed on, and Devin was all smiles. Maybe he learned something about himself today. Perhaps we can all learn something from him.
Crap happens. And, life can be really tough. When you get knocked down in life, though, you're probably not going to find too many cheerleaders waiting to help you get back in the game. Instead, you'll find out that there are some really miserable people who get to feel better about themselves by rejoicing in your trials. People will gossip, lie, and bad-mouth you at every turn. But, it doesn't matter. You've got another race to swim.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
A Little Overwhelmed
As of this minute, the post about the Ranburne/Woodland game has been viewed 500 times. Wow.
That speaks volumes to me about the magnitude of that win. I am humbled by how many of you would take the time to listen to what I had to say. And, I feel like there are some things I need to address.
First, I hope I didn't give the impression that there has been a lot of people being ugly to Coach. Overwhelmingly, the support he has received has been incredible. But, how many people who you thought were friends and now refuse to answer your texts does it take to hurt your feelings? Clearly, not many. They are the minority, however.
I have been touched by the couple of WHS coaches who came out of their way to shake Coach's hand after the game. He did not come down from the press box in time to go through the regular line with the team. So that meant a lot. Others, the ones he talks to regularly, have continued to show their true friendship.
There have been some surprises, though. A couple of Coach's former players took the time to reach out and offer their support. And, people who are basically strangers to me have commented about my post. Some even offered some kind words of welcome and encouragement.
One former player wrote, "...I would like to hear your reason [for leaving] from you instead of someone who thinks he or she knows what he or she is talking about, if you would not mind. I understand that your decision was a career move. No one should get mad about that. Most people would never want to be in that position. I imagine it to have been incredibly tough to make that final decision. No doubt you guys are already back to work for next week...Congrats. Huge win and good luck the rest of the year. Hope all is well in your life. If there is anything I can do, don't hesitate."
This young man gets it.
Sadly, there have been those who would let bitterness over something as trivial as high school football harden their hearts. We've had to accept that some of our so-called friends are anything but. A small few have attacked me personally. By now they've realized, I hope, that no matter how hateful you are, you can't change the score. And, they might be proud of themselves, but I feel sorry for them.
I'm not a perfect person. I don't think I'm a great writer. I just write this blog because I've been blessed to get to be a part of something so special. Yes, high school sports. Not in the trivial way that makes winning and losing the Alpha and the Omega. I've been able to see up close how much being a part of it can mean to the young men and women involved. I say it often, but I adamantly believe that sports teach things people may not learn anywhere else. Not until it's too late.
If you don't like what I have to say, don't read my blog. It's that simple. I didn't write it for you anyway. I want to thank those of you who have supported me and shared the links on your Facebook pages. Because of you, so many members of the Ranburne Family got introduced to my feeble attempt to honor what those kids did Friday night. Of course, that opened me up to some people reading it for other reasons. But it's worth it.
We make decisions in life. And sometimes we have to wait a while for confirmation of those decisions. I've felt like the move to Ranburne was the right thing for Coach to do before this weekend, but seeing people reveal their true colors validated it even further.
I just needed to get that off my chest. Thanks!
That speaks volumes to me about the magnitude of that win. I am humbled by how many of you would take the time to listen to what I had to say. And, I feel like there are some things I need to address.
First, I hope I didn't give the impression that there has been a lot of people being ugly to Coach. Overwhelmingly, the support he has received has been incredible. But, how many people who you thought were friends and now refuse to answer your texts does it take to hurt your feelings? Clearly, not many. They are the minority, however.
I have been touched by the couple of WHS coaches who came out of their way to shake Coach's hand after the game. He did not come down from the press box in time to go through the regular line with the team. So that meant a lot. Others, the ones he talks to regularly, have continued to show their true friendship.
There have been some surprises, though. A couple of Coach's former players took the time to reach out and offer their support. And, people who are basically strangers to me have commented about my post. Some even offered some kind words of welcome and encouragement.
One former player wrote, "...I would like to hear your reason [for leaving] from you instead of someone who thinks he or she knows what he or she is talking about, if you would not mind. I understand that your decision was a career move. No one should get mad about that. Most people would never want to be in that position. I imagine it to have been incredibly tough to make that final decision. No doubt you guys are already back to work for next week...Congrats. Huge win and good luck the rest of the year. Hope all is well in your life. If there is anything I can do, don't hesitate."
This young man gets it.
Sadly, there have been those who would let bitterness over something as trivial as high school football harden their hearts. We've had to accept that some of our so-called friends are anything but. A small few have attacked me personally. By now they've realized, I hope, that no matter how hateful you are, you can't change the score. And, they might be proud of themselves, but I feel sorry for them.
I'm not a perfect person. I don't think I'm a great writer. I just write this blog because I've been blessed to get to be a part of something so special. Yes, high school sports. Not in the trivial way that makes winning and losing the Alpha and the Omega. I've been able to see up close how much being a part of it can mean to the young men and women involved. I say it often, but I adamantly believe that sports teach things people may not learn anywhere else. Not until it's too late.
If you don't like what I have to say, don't read my blog. It's that simple. I didn't write it for you anyway. I want to thank those of you who have supported me and shared the links on your Facebook pages. Because of you, so many members of the Ranburne Family got introduced to my feeble attempt to honor what those kids did Friday night. Of course, that opened me up to some people reading it for other reasons. But it's worth it.
We make decisions in life. And sometimes we have to wait a while for confirmation of those decisions. I've felt like the move to Ranburne was the right thing for Coach to do before this weekend, but seeing people reveal their true colors validated it even further.
I just needed to get that off my chest. Thanks!
Sunday, October 7, 2012
The Biggest Game of Your Life
October 5th, 2012 is a date that has been circled on many calendars since Coach accepted a job at Ranburne in July. To say that Woodland and Ranburne are bitter rivals would be an understatement. And, while it's one of ten regular season games this year, it's also not fair to say it was just another game.
Woodland has beaten The Bulldogs the last 8 times the teams have met. And, in truth, the games haven't even been competitive. Coach went into the week knowing that just getting some dogs in the fight, so to speak, would be a victory for them. Ranburne football is headed in the right direction. The coaches are working harder than ever and so are the players. But, they are still a long way from matching up with the perennial playoff team from Woodland, which happens to have one of it's better teams in 4 or 5 years. So, to put it mildly, the Dogs were a longshot this Friday night.
But, there's a reason you play the game. Just because something is improbable, doesn't make it impossible. And, if anyone could find the chinks in the Bobcat armor, it's my Coach.
It was an incredibly difficult week for Coach Bailey, but not for the reasons you might think. Yes, it was an emotional game for him. He's had his heart broken by people he used to call "friend". He's sent so many unanswered "good luck" and "congratulations" texts this season. He's heard kids who he's done everything for say hurtful things. But, he still loves all of them. While some people in orange were busy running their mouths this week, Coach was dealing with situations far more important that football.
During the week, the Dogs' head coach spoke with the players, and maybe the coaches too, about adversity, about learning how to get back up when life knocks you down. Those players knew they were headed into a battle. And they came out ready to fight.
Coach read me the script for the first two series on Thursday night before the game. And I knew then that he was ready. But, I didn't know if the young Bulldog team had enough in them to pull off the miracle. Then, driving to to field on Friday, I just KNEW. I tried to tell myself it was foolish to think we had a chance. I knew I'd be so disappointed. But, I just had that feeling. We were going to win.
Coach often speaks about how when you're trying to turn a program around, you need one defining moment. A moment where something incredible happens, something you can build on. A turning point. The job of a coach is to get the kids ready so that when their moment presents itself, they're ready for it. Friday night, the Bulldogs were ready. I don't know how they did it. It was incredible.
It was a great night. I hugged Coach on the field after the huge win and said, "You could coach for 50 years and never get a bigger win." He said, "I know."
But while everyone was celebrating the huge win, he and I were talking about other things. Because, you see, the biggest game of your life isn't just one game on one incredible Friday night. It's every game, every day, every minute. Life is precious. And you better celebrate those victories, because you never know what life has waiting for you around the next corner.
I'm so proud for those Bulldogs. They played their hearts out. They didn't lie down. They came out and hit those Cats in the mouth all night long. And, we know they bleed purple, because we saw it all over the field Friday night.
For me, it isn't about "beating Woodland". It's about those kids and that community earning back some respect. But, for the record, we know what your sign said. Notice, we didn't have to have one. For us, winning is enough. We don't have to insult our opponent just to feel good about a win. The only sign we need stood at the end of the field.
It said 14-6 Ranburne.
Woodland has beaten The Bulldogs the last 8 times the teams have met. And, in truth, the games haven't even been competitive. Coach went into the week knowing that just getting some dogs in the fight, so to speak, would be a victory for them. Ranburne football is headed in the right direction. The coaches are working harder than ever and so are the players. But, they are still a long way from matching up with the perennial playoff team from Woodland, which happens to have one of it's better teams in 4 or 5 years. So, to put it mildly, the Dogs were a longshot this Friday night.
But, there's a reason you play the game. Just because something is improbable, doesn't make it impossible. And, if anyone could find the chinks in the Bobcat armor, it's my Coach.
It was an incredibly difficult week for Coach Bailey, but not for the reasons you might think. Yes, it was an emotional game for him. He's had his heart broken by people he used to call "friend". He's sent so many unanswered "good luck" and "congratulations" texts this season. He's heard kids who he's done everything for say hurtful things. But, he still loves all of them. While some people in orange were busy running their mouths this week, Coach was dealing with situations far more important that football.
During the week, the Dogs' head coach spoke with the players, and maybe the coaches too, about adversity, about learning how to get back up when life knocks you down. Those players knew they were headed into a battle. And they came out ready to fight.
Coach read me the script for the first two series on Thursday night before the game. And I knew then that he was ready. But, I didn't know if the young Bulldog team had enough in them to pull off the miracle. Then, driving to to field on Friday, I just KNEW. I tried to tell myself it was foolish to think we had a chance. I knew I'd be so disappointed. But, I just had that feeling. We were going to win.
Coach often speaks about how when you're trying to turn a program around, you need one defining moment. A moment where something incredible happens, something you can build on. A turning point. The job of a coach is to get the kids ready so that when their moment presents itself, they're ready for it. Friday night, the Bulldogs were ready. I don't know how they did it. It was incredible.
It was a great night. I hugged Coach on the field after the huge win and said, "You could coach for 50 years and never get a bigger win." He said, "I know."
But while everyone was celebrating the huge win, he and I were talking about other things. Because, you see, the biggest game of your life isn't just one game on one incredible Friday night. It's every game, every day, every minute. Life is precious. And you better celebrate those victories, because you never know what life has waiting for you around the next corner.
I'm so proud for those Bulldogs. They played their hearts out. They didn't lie down. They came out and hit those Cats in the mouth all night long. And, we know they bleed purple, because we saw it all over the field Friday night.
For me, it isn't about "beating Woodland". It's about those kids and that community earning back some respect. But, for the record, we know what your sign said. Notice, we didn't have to have one. For us, winning is enough. We don't have to insult our opponent just to feel good about a win. The only sign we need stood at the end of the field.
It said 14-6 Ranburne.
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