Tag Archives: sports

The Rabbits and the Panthers

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There were all sorts of reasons why I accepted a reporting position at the Daily Globe more than nine years ago, but one of the lesser-known rationales was the dilemma I knew I’d face in my allegiance to certain high school sports teams.

I was the editor of the Wabasso Standard for four years prior to coming to Worthington. In that time, I followed the Rabbits during regular season games, through section championships and state title berths.

At a small town newspaper, with just a part-time reporter and some sports stringers, I was often the one with the camera dangling from my neck at those sporting events. I did my best to capture kids making baskets, pinning opponents, smacking balls to the outfield, slapping balls over the net and putting golf balls into holes.

While standing on the sidelines, I’ve been hit with basketballs, volleyballs, a football and even wrestling head-gear. So, when I’m sitting at Target Field and Joe Mauer comes on the big screen to ask us to keep an eye on the game, I do. The one time I didn’t, my oldest brother nearly ended up in my lap trying to catch a homerun ball.

I was never more thankful when, moving to Worthington, I learned I wouldn’t need to shoot another sporting event in my life — at least not for the newspaper!

Anyway, getting back to sports team allegiances…

It was about year three into my stint at Wabasso when the Wabasso Rabbits and the Ellsworth Panthers boys’ basketball teams faced off for a sub-section game in Marshall. By then, my older brother’s kids were students at Ellsworth, and the whole family came to the game. They sat on the Ellsworth side; I sat on the Wabasso side, and while I can’t remember who won, I remember my nephew stomping on a stuffed rabbit belonging to one of the Wabasso fans at the end of the game.

I was a bit mortified, and certainly hesitant to introduce him as my wonderful nephew — my fishing buddy as most Wabasso newspaper readers knew him through my weekly columns. Visions of Nephew Matt playing on that Ellsworth team in a few years made me realize right then and there that I couldn’t stay where I was. I couldn’t be hoping the Rabbits would head to state while watching Nephew Matt want the same for his team.

Since coming to Worthington, my allegiance has clearly been to the Panthers, even when they play my alma mater, the Trojans of WHS. Yet, without any niece or nephew currently playing at the high school level for Ellsworth — and an invite from the Wabasso statistician to meet up at last Saturday’s Wabasso-Ellsworth girls’ basketball game in the WHS gym — I found myself wondering who I should root for.

I recognized certain names from both teams, I recognized parents and grandparents from both teams in the stands; I even wore maroon — you can’t go wrong when the school colors of both Wabasso and Ellsworth are maroon and gold!

And, while I sat on the Ellsworth side of the gym, I chose a spot just a couple of rows behind the Wabasso team. I silently cheered for both teams, because cheering loudly for both would have been a bit confusing to everyone around me.

There’s nothing wrong with cheering for both teams. In fact, it takes some of the stress out of those high school allegiances we hold so deep in our hearts. (Someone may need to remind me of this when I have nephews and nieces playing baseball, basketball, volleyball and hockey games for Ellsworth and Fairmont in a few years!)

The Wabasso girls came out on top in Saturday’s match-up and will return to the WHS gym tonight to take on the Fulda Raiders. Meanwhile, the Wabasso Rabbits and the Ellsworth Panthers boys’ basketball teams will face off Thursday night in Ellsworth for the first round of tournament play. I can’t make it to either game, so I guess my allegiances won’t have to be tested again this week.

I’ll just say good luck to all of the teams.

High five, low five, take five

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Awards on a wall or trophies in a case really don’t mean a whole lot in life, but the admiration of a nephew, well, now that’s something.

If I accomplish one thing in this life, it’s the "cool" auntie I want to be. I think I added another notch toward that goal Thursday night.

I left work a couple of hours early and headed to the Fairmont Buntjers to watch nephews Blake and Reece play baseball. There was a bit of a dilemma though – they both played at the same time – at opposite ends of an extra long city block.

My Godson Reece, he’s four, was already pouting before we got to the ball field, mostly because big brother Blake took the lucky batting glove, but also because he wanted his Auntie Juwee to stay and watch his entire game. In other words, Blake’s game didn’t matter.

Well, with the ball playing days winding down, and this my one Thursday night off of work, I had to make the most of it. I sat in the shade and watched Reece hit five balls off the tee during batting practice, then packed up my chair and joined Mom in a walk across the parking lot and down the street to watch Blake’s pee-wee game. Three innings later, Blake was finally up to bat. Pitch one – Blake connects and sends the ball straight above his head, and back down into the catcher’s mitt.

Blake headed back to the bench with a smile on his face, and Mom and I packed up our chairs and walked back to the T-ball game in time to see Reece knock a pitch toward a group of kids. He made it around all of the bases and, after he stomped across home plate, he made a bee-line for me with a mile-wide grin and a bouncing hard hat of a helmet.

I thought I was going to get whacked in the nose by the hard plastic, but as it turned out, Reece just wanted to give me a bear hug, a kiss and a high-five. That’s my little slugger!

A few more runs were scored by his teammates, and suddenly the game was over. Our second trip to the pee-wee field was timed perfectly with the end of that game. We missed Blake’s big hit (a single, but he made it around second, third and home plate on another kid’s hit to the outfield.)

It wasn’t watching both of the boys play baseball, however, that made me the "cool" aunt for the night.

Nope, it all came down to Wii.

I’ve never played the Wii before. My extent of video games these days are my Plug-N-Plays of Pac-Man and Centipede, favorite 1980′s Atari games that I purchased thinking they would be de-stressers from those long days at the office. It turns out, however, that those darn games stress me out even more!

Anyway, Blake started up the Wii and showed me his selection of games. Let’s see, I could go bear hunting, play a game of baseball or tennis, or … wait a minute, there’s a Wii archery game? Now that’s more like it.

When I told Blake I took a semester of archery in college, he looked at me with big eyes and asked an incredulous, "You did?"

"Of course! It was my favorite class that semester," I told him.

Let the competition begin!

It took a bit of coordination to get the wand thingamajig coordinating with the nunchuk contraption, but I didn’t do too bad. By the second game, I managed to get three bulls-eyes. Of course, that was also the game that I hit the wrong button and sent two of my arrows sailing over the target. In the end, Blake and I tied at 75 points.

After the round of archery, it was on to cycling around an island with Reece. This particular contest required me to move the nunchuk in one hand and the wand thingamajig in the other hand in furious motion, and then "steer like I’m driving a car" at the same time (Blake’s directions). Well, I finished the race, even after stopping my "bicycle" to enjoy the ocean view and a pretty lighthouse!

Next, it was on to Wii bowling with Reece. I don’t recall the final score, but I won’t soon forget the slapping high fives each time we threw a strike. By the end of 10 frames, my arm was tired and my shoulder hurt.

That’s when Blake said, "Julie, Wii is good because it can help you lose weight. It gives you a good workout."

I didn’t bother to tell him I’d walked around Lake Okabena the night before, which I consider to be better for my health than throwing my shoulder out playing Wii bowling. But hey, if playing Wii adds to my "cool" auntie points, well then, let the games continue!

The final match-up of the night pitted me against Blake in a game of baseball. I pitched a bunch of screwballs (I never did learn how to throw a fastball or a curveball because it apparently involves pushing more buttons than A and B and, well, I’m just not that coordinated!)

The pitching went OK, but the batting, well, not so much. I think I heard something pop in my shoulder.

I figure I’ll probably be feeling the pain of a pulled muscle in the morning. Then again, to have been the "cool" auntie in the eyes of my boys for a night, well, I’m pretty sure the pain will be worth it.

Flinch!

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Just minutes into the action inside the Round Lake gym Tuesday night, I leaned over and asked my mom why we had to sit in the second row of the bleachers during a boys basketball game.

Everyone knows that the closer you sit to the court, the better your chances of getting whacked by the ball.

My track record isn’t so good when it comes to getting hit with flying sports equipment.

Chalk it up to four years as a weekly newspaper editor. In order to convince someone else to write the stories, I had to take the photos … and endure the wrath.

Oh, how I don’t miss that job!

I flinched several times during Tuesday’s game between the Ellsworth Panthers and Round Lake Brewster Raiders, even though the ball bounced within a few feet of me only twice.

Once hit, twice shy, I like to say.

At every Minnesota Twins game I’ve been to in recent years, Joe Mauer, Michael Cuddyer and Justin Morneau appear on the screen to tell fans to “keep your eye on the ball.”

I think every high school sporting event should broadcast those wise words at the beginning of a game.

Yes, I apparently need to be reminded … every single time!

I never had to worry about getting whacked with something while I was growing up. One brother was a wrestler and another played baseball. When I went to the matches and the games, I was either safe in the stands or safe behind the fence.

Now, you’re probably thinking that I couldn’t possibly get hurt watching a wrestling match.

Oh, I believed that for a long time too … until the night I stood in the Wabasso gym, waiting for state champion Johnny Frank and his teammates to burst through the banner.

Camera in hand, I was poised to get a couple of shots before the real action began. I knew I was in trouble as soon as the first wrestler broke through the banner and hurled his headgear in my general direction.

Yep, I got nailed … right in the head. Ouch!

After a while, I began to think the kids at Wabasso just wanted to see me flinch.

I was busy snapping photos at a football game one night when the quarterback hurled the football right at me. Naturally, it sent a whole crew of boys in helmets and shoulder pads in my direction. My only injury was a bruised ego.

That next week, I ran into the QB, Brent Baune, in the halls of Wabasso High and teasingly accused him of throwing the ball at me on purpose. He grinned and said something about it making for a good close-up photo. Yeah right, like I’ll get a clear shot of a football being hurled at my head!

Over four years in Wabasso, I was hit with a volleyball, a basketball, wrestling headgear and even a golf ball. Fortunately, the golf ball only rolled into my foot!

I am thankful that photographers have to stand behind fences in baseball and softball, and I was really thankful that Wabasso didn’t have a hockey team.

Now, I’m just thankful I don’t have to cover sports … and I’ll remember to sit a little higher up in the bleacher section at the next Ellsworth ball game.