By DAVID EPPS
Pastor

Georgia's Speaker of the House Tom Murphy (D-Bremen) has begun an effort to help the Bremen High School football team do something that it evidently can't do on its own — win football games. The Bremen team normally holds its own against other public high schools in its class but, when it comes to playing against the few private schools that dot the Georgia landscape, Bremen has had less success than it would like. Speaker Murphy has had enough.

For nearly a hundred years, high school students have competed on the gridiron against each other and, for most of that time, there wasn't even such a thing as a “class,” such as “A,” “AA,” AAA,” or “AAAA,” which all has to do with the size of the student body. Consequently, in the past, the large schools usually whipped up on the smaller schools pretty badly.

In Tennessee, during the 1964 season, large Dobyns-Bennett High School of Kingsport demolished tiny Jellico High 89-0. Jellico played Kingsport for the excitement of playing in a large, filled-to-capacity stadium and for the generous share of the ticket sales. For their part, the large schools wanted to rack up victories.

In the days before playoffs, high school championships were decided by the votes of sports writers, coaches, or some other third party. Everybody knew it was a flawed system but it was the one in place. So, large schools would play about half their games against “name” teams who were known to be tough competitors and the rest against teams over whom victory, and lopsided scores, were assured. It was good for the polls.

Yet, in 1968, diminutive Greeneville High School, on their home field, squeaked by the mighty Dobyns-Bennett team by a score of 6-2 in a game played in a torrential downpour. The rain was coming down so hard the players couldn't see four feet in front of them, the bands never got off the bus, and the mud was thick and deep enough to totally stall any kind of running game.

The Dobyns-Bennett team was stymied but the overmatched, outclassed Greeneville team took advantage of the terrible conditions. The only touchdown was scored by a big lumbering defensive tackle who picked a fumble up out of the mud and loped into the end zone.

That game caused about as much excitement in Greeneville as V-E Day! David could beat Goliath on any given Friday night. That's what's so great about high school football.

But, somewhere along the way, the powers that be determined that the playing field should be leveled a bit. The universal wisdom said that schools of similar size should play against each other and, once decreed, that's the way it has been in much of America. Once the playing field was equalized, it became a matter of who could coach the best, develop the best players, devise the best system, and so on. Sometimes, sheer grit, determination, and luck would win the day.

In 1989, in a Georgia Class AAAA football game, the Newnan High School team was on the march to the state playoffs. Newnan had been a powerhouse for years and looked forward to an easy season-ending game with Peachtree City's McIntosh High School. The McIntosh Chiefs were 1-8 going into that final game, with their only win being over a team that would go 0-10 on the season.

Newnan took control of the game and, at halftime, the Chiefs were down by a score of 18-7. Most on the McIntosh side would have been content to see the game end right there, certain that Newnan would roar out in the second half and humiliate the home team.

Something happened, however, in the Chiefs locker room. Call it inspiration, personal pride, or a realization that there was nothing left to lose. The McIntosh team returned to the field and played like a group of athletes possessed.

Newnan maintained their lead and their relaxed approach to this “breather” of a game prior to playoff season. By the time Newnan realized that they were in a real game, it was too late. The hapless McIntosh Chiefs had upset the powerful Newnan team 19-18 for the first and only time in the school's history. That's what makes high school football so great!

Speaker Murphy, however, isn't content to let the boys and the coaches just play the game. In the Speaker's view, the private schools, like professional teams or colleges, recruit outside the state and bring in the best from big old bad places like New York to come down to the South to beat up on the native sons. Never mind that, almost always, the state champs are public schools, not private. (On the college level, when's the last time Yale or Harvard won a national championship? Public schools rule the roost.)

Nevertheless, Speaker Murphy proposes to unlevel the playing field by requiring the private schools to play in a class higher than they really are. So, a tiny “A” private school would have to compete in the much larger “AA” league.

It's almost funny, really. Here is, arguably, the most powerful man in Georgia outside the governor, spending an inordinate amount of energy twisting the arms of reluctant legislators trying to effect a change in the football ratings system for the sole purpose (for so it appears to me) of having his local high school lose fewer games to better-prepared, better-coached teams who attend the same size schools.

It's a shame really. By his actions, Speaker Murphy is telling his beloved Bremen team that, without the intervention of the great state of Georgia, they aren't good enough to compete on an equal basis. The boys know better. They know that, on a given Friday night, anybody can beat anybody else.

They should just be allowed to play.

[David Epps is rector of Christ the King Church which meets in Peachtree City in the Carmichael-Hemperley building on Ga. Highway 74, 10 a.m. Sundays. He may be contacted at FatherDavidEpps@aol.comor at www.ChristTheKingCEC.com.]

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