A new Apple Cup perspective
MOSES LAKE — Saturday I had my very first Apple Cup sideline experience.
Sadly, it was not my very first Apple Cup disappointment. In the grander scheme of life I realize that football is just a game and bares little importance outside a stadium but it is always sad to see your alma mater lose to an arch rival.
It is even sadder to see grown men dissolve into tears of anger, disappointment and the myriad of emotions football players go through after losing their very last game in college. I have little doubt it was the senior class' last opportunity to play football in crimson and gray as they are now behind every seven win team in the nation for bowl consideration.
Sadder still was feeling myself get a little misty after the loss. After all, it is not my last Apple Cup. There was, however, something different about this Apple Cup for me.
As I drove home after grabbing some Cougar Country, winding through the Palouse, along Highway 21 through Lind and caught Interstate 90 to my exit just outside of Moses Lake, I realized the difference was not in the game but rather in my experience of it. I have diligently watched football for a number of years but for the first time, during a game I treasure, I was part of the sidelines. I was on the sidelines, yelling, taking photos and suffering the ups and downs with coaches and players in a way I had not experienced before.
Normally, I get lost in a game, enjoying the ups and downs but Saturday, standing under the lights of a stadium that has always felt a little like my living room without central heating, the weight of the moment pressed more heavily upon me. For the first time I was able to see the game from a different perspective. A perspective that included photographers, television cameras, reporters, jeering Husky fans, screaming Cougar fans, field officials, security staff, the State Patrol, Governor Chris Gregoire, former Cougars like Jason Gesser, future Cougars from around the state, donating alumni and what seemed like 1,000 other people.
The sights were outrageous from a Husky fan lighting a T-shirt on fire after rushing the field to the "20-yard line crew" decked out in their finest Cougar wear. The sound of "GO! COUGS!" was deafening as it was volleyed back and forth across the field. The emotion of the game was something bordering on a physical weight and the team handled it admirably despite the loss, or maybe because of it.
After the final seconds ticked down and the teams headed for their respective locker rooms and press conferences, I marched back down the tunnel leading to Martin Stadium and settled into a chair in the photographers "lounge." As the other photographers trickled in to sort through photos and send them to the respective places of publication, I sat among them, waiting for my game stats and play-by-play print outs, wondering what had happened; wondering how my team had lost a potentially historic game. I have, as yet, no satisfying answer and I have to admit maybe it was just supposed to end the way it did but it does not change the feeling of let-down.
More than the feeling of let-down, it does not change the feeling of sadness at seeing how difficult it is to stand on the other side and listen to fans, reporters and the inner critic we all possess place their disappointment squarely on the shoulders of every player on the field. Players and coaches bare the brunt of loss not only for themselves but for the people they represent and for the first time I became aware of how heavy that burden can be.