Ramblings From Bridger

Zentner to Zentner Touchdown

It was the battle for the South, and even the mascot names provided a battle imagery—the Scouts vs. the Rangers. In this case it was the battle for Montana’s Class C six-man football Southern Conference. Grass Range-Winnett was paying a visit to Bridger to decide who would earn the number one spot heading into the upcoming playoffs. The last time I saw these two teams clash was in 2006 at Grass Range when both were competing in eight-man play. How things quickly change in Montana high school football.

* * *

When the weather is not cooperating or when I simply can’t psyche myself up for a long drive, Bridger is my go-to destination. Oh sure, there are other venues closer such as Meeteetse and Burlington, but for whatever reason I lean toward Bridger. Perhaps it’s the easy terrain of getting there and the lower elevation of 3,600 feet (compared to Meeteetse’s 5,751 feet)—meaning less likely to snow. And, unlike Burlington, they never play Friday afternoon games which is difficult to attend if I have a Friday afternoon class. At 57 years of age, I’m not much for driving at night either, so if I have to, I think returning from a Bridger Friday night game is easier on my aging eyes. 

* * *

It was Bridger’s “Senior Night.” I was surprised to hear over the public address system that four of their senior football players were planning to attend Northwest College—my employer. I even called my division chair during the pregame ceremonies to share this unexpected news. I found out later that senior members of their esteemed volleyball team had a couple players heading for Powell as well.

* * *

I set up camp behind the east end zone, but I wasn’t alone. Two men where studying the field and the players with a little more attention than the casual spectator. As my camera was working on a time-lapse series, I walked over to them and said, “You guys are either reporters or scouts for another team.” When they looked up, they recognized me before I recognized them. It was the Geraldine-Highwood coaching tandem of Rod Tweet and Brandon Gondeiro. No doubt, they were in town to gather some information knowing there was a good chance they’d see one of these two teams in the second round of the playoffs. Later on it dawned on me that the two coaches were scouting the Scouts (of Bridger).

As it turned out, the game wasn’t as competitive as I thought it might be. Bridger shined brightly and made a statement by easily securing the conference’s number one seed to the tune of 49-14 over the Rangers.

* * *

The Scouts weren’t only brighter because of their talent and athleticism, but the new field lights made everything three aperture stops brighter than the old bulbs when I last photographed a game there. I asked a Bridger fan if they were indeed new and was told the lights were installed during the 2016 season. Yet, one more reason to keep Bridger as my default destination.

* * *

Jim Goltz is the principal at Bridger, but in another life, I first knew him as the assistant coach at Custer back in 2003. I managed to catch him running errands in his school golf cart before the big game. During the half, he invited me up to his office to see a print he had made from one of my drone shots last year over the school. And if that wasn’t flattering enough, he has since started flying a drone himself.

* * *

Maybe I’ll buy a little place in Bridger when I retire.

* * *

Staff Sergeant David Thatcher was the last survivor of the “Ruptured Duck” crew during World War II’s Doolittle Raid and was born in Bridger.

Meeteetse: It Can Be Complicated

The Pronghorns of Farson-Eden made the 200-mile-plus trip to Meeteetse only to find themselves down 53-0 at the half. Hullet and Little Snake River made even longer trips (290 and 306 miles respectively) with results that weren’t quite as lopsided, but nevertheless, lopsided. And to travel that far and lose surely makes for a long and gloomy bus ride back home—arriving in the early morning hours of a Saturday following a Friday night contest. Let’s hear it for the bus drivers as well.

Yet, if some schools have to travel great distances to play Meeteetse on their home field, at some point The Longhorns’ schedule demands they return the favor. So, next week they have a road game in Dubois which will require a three-hour bus ride (and another three hours home). Yet, the ’Horns have two things going for them. First, they are expected to easily win. Second, Dubois doesn’t have lights, so the game will be Friday afternoon providing Meeteetse’s players and coaches a civil arrival time back home in their town of just over 300 residents. Further, if it wasn’t for the high peaks and mountainous terrain of the Shoshone National Forest between the two towns, it would be even a shorter trip (see map sans the longboard advertisement). Such is high school sports in states like Wyoming and Montana.

On a lighter note, Meeteetse is the most misspelled town name in America, but you won’t find it misspelled here. Stick that in your Funk and Wagnalls.

How to pronounce Meeteetse? Check this out.

Ignored, Rejected, or Misunderstood

When I have time, I try hard to put this project out there. Magazines that might be interested for an upcoming issue, publishers that could be enticed, agents that might see some potential, and museums or galleries that are looking for something different—they are all legitimate targets when it comes to pitching them a proposal.

As these things go, most of the time I never get a reply about a query or submission—for all I know, no one ever received what I sent in. Which strikes me as odd in this modern day of easy and abundant communications systems at our disposal—a rant for another day.

Yet, every once in awhile, I actually do get a response. Most of the time it’s just a simple form rejection letter. You know, “Thanks for your submission. Your work is very impressive, but after careful thought we decided it’s not quite right for our …whatever.”

Even less frequent, a real person will write back and specifically mention what I’ve sent. These are the next best things to someone saying, “We want it.”

The other day I received one of those cherished replies from an editor at High Country News and even though a real person replied back, it was clear they didn’t really grasp what my Six-Eight-Eleven project is all about in saying, “We haven’t traditionally run stories about team sports in High Country News, because there often isn’t a distinction about what it means for the Western U.S.”

Sometimes when someone distills this body of work down to something as simple as “team sports” or “sports photography,” I just want to hit them like a tackling dummy. But in this case, after I cool down and compose myself, I try to correct their vision with something like the following:

Your response is what I’m used to hearing, but, let me at least correct you that this body of work is as much about life and living in the West as it is about “team sports.” I tell people that the small town high school football project is simply a lens for looking at the lives and culture of these by-passed and overlooked communities. For example, look at how the dwindling populations lead to declining enrollments in today’s rural schools. This leads to football teams moving from a traditional 11-man game to an 8-man or 6-man game (as with many schools in Wyoming and Montana). Some school enrollments are getting so low in Montana that they form co-ops with schools down the road (20-30 miles often) just to have a six-man team! And beyond these games, there is little else that brings these communities together in one event with the exception of a summer rodeo (if they even have one). Typically, once the high school sports teams are gone, the closing of the school isn’t far behind. And then, what remains for such a town to be a community? I suppose this is what I see in the game of football (no matter how many players are fielded) as an important element in a small town’s struggle to be vibrant and thus viable.

Next year, of Wyoming’s five classes of football—the most competitive will be the smallest with 16 teams. Most of the other classes are lucky to have 12. In Montana, six-man and eight-man play have more teams competing than the other three classes of eleven-man (69 vs. 67).

I'll go as far as to say that the growing number of high schools (and their enrollments) in the largest cities of Montana and Wyoming along with the shrinking enrollment in the smaller schools is a barometer that Western living is becoming more urbanized despite the growing trend that we can work from anywhere in today’s “connected” world.

I see Paonia plays in Colorado’s smallest class of 11-man football. I wonder if you’ve attended a game there to have a look around—beyond the gridiron. Better yet, you might want to wander up the road a ways to a town like Collbran where they play eight-man or if you get over the other side of the hill, check out a six-man game in La Veta or Weston. I think you’ll know what I’m talking about... it’s a bit more than just about “team sports.”

And sometimes—rare as it is, they’ll actually reply back to my reply with something like this:

Thank you for giving me a little more context to the story. With that background I can see how it might fit in as an online gallery (I’m full through the end of this year, but it could work next year.) Can you put together an edit that depicts the culture of these small communities in relation to the field and the teams? These two photos from your flickr page (links to my flickr page) tell quite the story, as well as the photo at the link you just sent. Then I’ll take your edit to the editorial meeting to see what the rest of the team thinks. 

Now, if I can just figure out what they mean by “putting together an edit.”

Photo: Meeteetse Longhorn Starters for 2015