Odessa's two industries
Ratliff is a name that holds as much meaning to Odessa as oil does. The town of over 100,000 was made famous in Buzz Bissinger's 1990 book "Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team, and a Dream" chronicled the story of the 1988 Permian High School football team as they made their way in a failed attempt to get to the State Championships.
Ratliff Stadium, Home of the Permian Panthers
The centerpiece of that story: Ratliff, which cost $5.6 million when it was built in 1982 and can seat over 19,000 people. Bissinger's book was full of triumph, anguish, and the pride of a city turned destitute after the oil crash in the early 1980s and cheap oil from the Middle Eastern oil kingdoms had bled Odessa's economy dry. Friday night football was what distracted the 90,000 Odessans from their troubles in their dusty, windswept outpost, if just for three-and-a-half months.
But thirty two years has not been kind on Ratliff. The white paint on the hundred-foot tall light poles is chipping away, worn by the beating heat, wind and dust. The press box is a shade of yellow that the 1980s invented, the old shades sagging from age. The aisle numbers, painted on the concrete steps long ago, have nearly rubbed away from the thousands of feet that have shuffled up and down them. But none of this matters, because when it comes to high school football, you only need one thing: a field. And Ratliff's field is the crisp green of a turf field flanked by yellow goal posts and ringed by a new all-weather track. And backing this all up is a massive jumbotron complete with instant replays and close ups of the referees. Some colleges would drool to have such facility.
On this Friday night the mood was different. It was homecoming weekend, and many of the girls, no matter how big or small, wore massive "homecoming mums." Some girls' mums were so long that it was a surprise that they didn't trip over them.
A mum.
Two boys holding a big "MOJO" sign started marching down the track, eliciting cheers and hoots from the crowd. The venerated "Pepettes," the varsity cheerleaders of Permian High, followed in their silver dresses and pom poms. The 120-strong band marched behind them in lock step. They wore white caps topped with white feathers and crisp white and black uniforms marching in step like a unit marching into battle, fearless as the drums rolled.
As the band completed their round of the stadium, the Permian football team, already warming up on the field, gather in the center. One player stood in the middle of the mass of white and black uniforms and the team chanted "Mojo, Mojo." As the players ran off the field to prepare for the opening ceremonies, family members shouted to their sons from the stands. Little kids jumped up and down, each with their own mini-Permian football jersey.
An honor guard made up of young cadets from the junior ROTC marched into the center of the field and were followed by the Permian marching bang, still in formation. As the band started their rendition of the "Star Spangled Banner," a light breeze picked up. The national flag was wrapped upon itself, while the Texas flag flapped happily in the wind.
In the far corners of the field both teams had unveiled their banners. The visiting team, the Coronado Mustangs from Lubbock, had inflated a giant golden helmet emblazoned with a red mustang. On the other corner was a massive banner 15 feet tall with a big white "P" and "Mojo Nation." The banner was held afloat by no less than a dozen students. At the bottom of it read: "Theirs Will Be A Glorious Victory."
A the teams set up to run onto the field, some of the Coronado players and assistant coaches began taunting the Permian side. One Permian player walked out to the goal post to shout back insults. He was soon joined by three more, who shouted at the Mustang's while pulling their comrade back. The tension was already building and the game hadn't even started.
The far side of the field held both school bands and the Permian student section. Aside from the bands and the students, the stands were mostly empty. The opposite side of the field, on the other hand, was packed with Permian fans. White and black dominated, and the white P of Permian was emblazoned on many hat, foldable chair and jersey.
The Mustangs blasted out of their inflated helmet, chasing their cheerleaders down the field in a primal show of power.
The Permian squad, showed gathered behind their banner on the jumbotron, undulated back and forth as one of their players gesticulated like a warrior. Then with a roar they ripped through the banner, chasing their own Pepettes and cheerleaders as they ran down the field screaming with glee. One student ran down the field with a flag that red "MOJO" and below that "7th Flag Over Texas."
As the teams lined up on the field, the sky darkened as the sun set over the dusty plains of Odessa. The lights blazed down onto the field, lighting up the field as if it were day.
High school football is not the epicenter of talent and good play. But Permian held Coronado off for the majority of the game with a scrappy playing style and plenty of swarming the ball. There were some hard hits, which usually resulted in some groans before people cheered the (Permian) player when he got to his feet.
But the Permian that I saw on the field was nothing lie what I had read about in Bissinger's book. 1995 marks the last time the Permian's made it to State, losing 31-28 against Converse Judson. The last time they won State was a 27-14 victory over San Antonio Marshall. The lack of good days on the field was marked by a more subdued crowd that struggled to get a rousing "MOJO" chant going and the lack of attendance. But the atmosphere was one of a communal gathering, one where neighbors shout to neighbors, friends plop down next to friends and shoot the shit, and kids run rampant. While the on-field play may not have been spectacular, the atmosphere was still lively.
With 1:30 left on the clock in the fourth quarter, and Permian ahead 14-12 and with the ball, I decided that I had seen enough. It didn't help that I hadn't eaten dinner and my attention was quickly slipping, but I was about to sorely regret my decision. A I left, the people around me gave me loos of amazement, as if it was crazy to leave in the waning seconds of the game. They were right.
Permian was unable to run the clock out, and the Mustangs were able to put together run and get to the Permian 37 yard line. With seconds remaining they made a desperate 44-yard field goal kick that knocked off of the top of the field goal bar and went over. With that, the Mustangs won 15-14. I can't even imagine what the feeling was like in the stands.
And then, when the teams came together in the middle of the field, they got into a melee that has embroiled both teams in controversy over who threw the first punch. What was caught on camera was Permian players swarming a Mustang, and a Mustang player using his helmet as a hammer against a Permian.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l89OUNFg3_Q (I couldn't embed the video for some reason)
Needless to say, the tension and intensity that was rippling across these teams from the beginning show how, even though football may be far past its prime, the machismo and importance that is put upon these teenagers still lights the fire of passion and intensity that Bissinger saw all those years ago. It's an intensity that I never experienced at my own high school in Palo Alto, and one that, like the flares that light up the night sky over the oilfields, still lights the Friday night skies in the fall.
No comments:
Post a Comment