"Build It and They Might Just Come" to Farson

 

Farson-Eden's six-man gridiron on game day.

You could have blamed the wind on a number of events related to the last football game of the season at Farson-Eden High School when the Pronghorns hosted the Kaycee Buckaroos on an overcast and windy Saturday afternoon.

The wind pretty much maintained a steady 20 mph throughout the entire game, and I’m sure it was the culprit when the scoreboard went belly up halfway through the third quarter, although I’m not sure how. Come to think of it—thanks to the wind—the telescoping flagstaff wouldn’t stay extended at its full height either, so Old Glory and the Wyoming state flag flew at a height that was more like half-mast. Even though the “new” football field at Farson is only five-years-old, both goal posts are leaning thanks to five years of wind abuse in this remote outpost of Wyoming’s high desert.

I suppose these kind of things aren’t uncommon when it comes to small town high school football despite the newness of any given facility. And so, some things about this level of play are just innate and can’t be avoided.

Fewer people in communities like Farson and Eden also means that those who are involved simply have to do more. In the case of the Pronghorns, an assistant coach and a handful of players on the team (even starters) help get the venue ready—delivering 10-gallon water coolers to both benches, placing the pylons and yard-markers on the field in their respective places, raising the Flag, wrapping each goal post with protective cushioning should their be a player collision, and then doing it all in reverse after the game.

Things have really changed since the last time I attended a game at Farson in 2013—their home field was across the street at the city park in a sectioned off area of the softball fields. It was pretty crude, but as one of the Pronghorn players pointed out to me, “Nothing says ‘small town high school football’ than softball fields being used for a six-man gridiron.”

Today, things are different in Farson. If there was a football version of the movie Field of Dreams (you know, “Build it and they will come”), it could be Farson as it is the home to the only six-man gridiron in Wyoming with an artificial turf, surrounded by an equally cosmetic six-lane, 400-meter track. Instead of being surrounded by corn, the facility is surrounded by the high desert emptiness that is mostly sagebrush, prickly pear cactus, and rabbitbrush.

Despite this apparent opulence in the middle of the high desert, floodlights are absent so all of their games are played out on either Friday or Saturday afternoons.

Talking to some of the Farson-Eden players before the game, they aren’t all that excited about their home artificial turf—they prefer natural grass because it’s a bit softer and not as “grippy.” On the other hand, I suspect many of their opponents look forward to the novelty of playing a game in Farson knowing it’s void of any hidden anomalies like bumps, hard and barren dirt patches, and varmint holes that are so common to a typical and imperfect small town high school football field.

Postscript: In their first season of six-man football in 2009, Farson-Eden was winless, but in less than a decade the Pronghorns secured the school’s first football state title in 2018 and did it again in 2020. Here’s a story about their rise to Wyoming’s six-man ranks.

Wibaux: Beyond the Gridiron

Colton Tousignant

During any given week of any given year of the Montana eight-man football season, there’s a good chance the Longhorns of Wibaux are sitting near the top of the polls—if not in the poll position. However, ending the season as owners of that top spot has been rather elusive for the ‘Horns in the past 13 years. So, after seeing them drop title games at Centerville (2006), Chinook (2010) and Ennis (2013), I was delighted to see them crowned champions this year. Honestly, I was starting to think their title-game bad luck had something to do with me. But, they haven’t always come up short when I was around.

In 2006 I made the long trip to Wibaux (342 miles) for the Class C semi-final game between the Longhorns and the visiting Trojans from Drummond. Two years earlier Drummond had stunned visiting Wibaux in a quarterfinal matchup and hadn’t lost a game since the 2002 season. The Longhorns repaid the Trojans that weekend, but beyond the excitement of that particular contest, I also remember the town of Wibaux itself.

***

To say that Wibaux is a rich football town is an understatement. Located on the extreme eastern plains of Montana, there’s no nearby college or professional football venues to distract. Throw in a program with a storied winning tradition and you have the likeness of an Odessa, Texas, or Massillon, Ohio condensed down to a community of 600 or so (and just over 1,000 in the entire county).

Because Veterans Memorial Field at Wibaux is without floodlights, home games are on Saturdays—which means many of the locals are talking football come Friday night. So, just imagine a rich football town like Wibaux on the night before their team hosted the three-peat defending champions. It was pretty crazy as I recall, especially at the Rainbow Club where various TVs were hooked up to VCRs playing back old Wibaux title games that they won in the not-so-distant past. It seemed like everyone came in that night, even one of the coaches. There was a feeling in the air like no other eve of a big game. In short, The Rainbow Club could have hung with any joint on High Street in Columbus, Ohio the night before Michigan comes to town.

This past season, I made the long trip again to witness another rematch—the 2010 title-game between the Longhorns and Sugarbeeters from Chinook—and, once again, for all the marbles.

A Wibaux fan prepares the back of his truck for the big

title game agains Chinook.

After my 2006 visit, I expected the town of Wibaux to be every bit as electric given this was another opportunity to exercise revenge.

I headed out around 6:00 that Friday evening with a visit to the football field for a count of vehicles already parked around its perimeter for Saturday’s game (small town high school football’s equivalent of loge seats). Fifty-seven unoccupied vehicles surrounded most of the field, but there were still openings on the Chinook side. Later I learned that most of the cars and trucks had been there since Monday. This validated what I already knew about Wibaux: they were crazy about their football.

By 6:30, I drove down to the Beaver Creek Brewery expecting to find a line of patrons outside the door, but it looked and felt like “business-as-usual.” The brewery and attached restaurant were operating at a healthy hum, but it wasn’t the hum of a night before a title game as much as it was simply the hum of a typical Friday night when more people dine out. Nevertheless, I rationalized that it was simply too early in the evening, so I took advantage of the civil setting and treated myself to the barbecue brisket on homemade bread from the menu. It was out of this world along with the special Irish cream ale on tap.

I took my time at Beaver Creek and by 8:00 I walked into the Rainbow Club to find it hauntingly subdued. Oh sure, there were folks in there, but like the brewery, it felt like just another Friday night rather than a title-game Friday night. I ordered a Coors (regular) and a pack of wasabi almonds as I waited for the crowd to follow, but an hour and a half later, I was already back in my motel room at the Beaver Creek Inn.

For all I know, perhaps things didn’t really get going until 10:00 that evening, and I can chalk my experience up to the fact that I’m just too old now to be out late. Yet, laying in bed, I wondered… Those TV sets showing old state title games were gone, replaced by cable TV coverage of various sporting events happening in real time. I considered the Internet and cable TV’s prolific reach into our smallest and most remote communities. I was reminded of franchise stores and restaurants and how they homogenize any given community to the point that they all start looking the same. And, those were my last thoughts before I drifted off to sleep.

It’s very possible that Wibaux is a little more subdued these days on Friday nights before a game than say, 2006, but I don’t doubt the victory celebration that followed the title game was anything less than memorable in every conceivable way. With threatening weather forecasted, I decided to make my way home after the game rather than linger and watch the town carry on in its celebration. Though I made it home without incident, it was a regrettable decision.

*** 

For the most part, I’m always pretty neutral given any game I attend—some have argued that, but really, I’ve never had a dog in any of these fights. Yet, in this 2014 eight-man championship game, I found myself pulling for the ’Horns. I know there are those Chinook faithful who believe this to be true because they gave me so much grief back in 2010 on this same blog, but I would have been backing the Longhorns no matter who opposed them in this title contest.

Here’s where I’m coming from: Some would argue that Wibaux has won plenty of state titles over the years and certainly doesn’t need more hardware for their overstuffed trophy case. But when a team consistently returns to the chipper almost like a perennial flower, and comes up short more often than they succeed, it’s easy to get behind them. And, unlike most folk, I’ve seen Wibaux lose more than they’ve won since I started this project in 1997.

A few years ago a friend of mine lectured me on why Jack Nicklaus—and not Tiger Woods—is the greatest golfer of all time. His rationale: when Nicklaus didn’t win, he was right there with the leaders in most tournaments he played. Contrary to that, Tiger Woods wins, but when he doesn’t win, he’s nowhere in sight of the leader board. With that in mind, it’s easy to see how Wibaux is the Jack Nicklaus of Montana football.

Head coach Jeff Bertelsen and sophomore Angus Lund

The truth be known, in my small town travels of Montana and Wyoming, I’ve come to like a lot of teams and almost all the ones I favor have a coach that has served for years. And the best thing about those coaches is they couldn't care less if someone like me favors them or not.

Lastly, I typically cheer for underdogs and Wibaux is constantly an underdog when it comes to enrollment numbers. There are several schools that play six-man with more students than Wibaux, but the Longhorns continue to play eight-man. According to the Montana High School Association, in 2013–14, the two schools that faced Wibaux in the semi-final and championship games this year—Ennis and Chinook—had 108 and 142 students (9–12) respectively while 57 students were enrolled at Wibaux. The only other school to have lesser numbers playing eight-man is Hays-Lodgepole with 51 students. Of those 57 Wibaux students, 28 were listed in the title game program roster, and as far as I could tell, the same number (or close to it) were in uniform too.

So call me a ’Horns fan—I’m OK with it because I like winners and I like underdogs.

Note: As of the time of this writing, I did not find such statistics for the 2014-15 school year, but the numbers are likely similar.

Ennis Passes The Wibaux Acid Test

 It’s a “season” that begins with the fighting of heat and mosquitos, but near its completion, the fight is with a growing cold while each new week brings a stronger opponent.

One could make an argument that either team was deserving of this year’s title. Ennis hadn’t won it all since 1982 (coincidentally against Wibaux). Yet, Wibaux has been knocking on the title door five different times since winning it last in 2001.

In my camp and beyond, there was worry of a title game blowout. Ennis had been playing invincible football all season long. The Billings Gazette’s Slim Kimmel said of the title game, “It’s the matchup we wanted, but Ennis is playing at a completely different level than the rest of Class C 8-Man. Ennis 44, Wibaux 20.” And so for once, the Longhorns were the undisputed underdog coming into the season finale.

As it turned out, Kimmel was right about the winner, but there was no doubt that the Longhorns from Wibaux were playing at the same level as the Mustangs. Every time it appeared the Mustangs were going to put the game out of reach, Wibaux would come back to pull within a touchdown or less.

It was gut check time for Ennis, and from behind their green facemasks, it showed—especially in the second half.

Along with their army of football players, Wibaux brought the wood and heart—and Ennis would need some of their own including their talent and high-octane athleticism to claim the title.

Wibaux had done their homework when it came to keeping talented players like Connor Sullivan, Roy Moen and Reid Farnes out of the end zone, but the Wibaux defense had no answers for Ennis junior quarterback Walker McKitrick—neither his running or passing game (in particular his hookups with senior Chad Johnerson). Johnerson and McKitrick were both slippery and elusive to the Wibaux defense and that was significant. Yet, the Longhorns made the scoring look effortless as well in tallying 56 points on their side of the scoreboard.

Trench warfare between the Mustangs and Longhorns.

Credit the Ennis coaching staff for not resting on their laurels by resorting to a conservative game once they established the lead. They made sure the high-octane Ennis offense maintained their killer instinct, and in turn, that maintained the team’s confidence.

Looking back on the game, I doubt anyone was too surprised in how the Longhorns measured up to the Mustangs. Pound for pound, season after season, Wibaux continually rises to the top; and if not outright on top, certainly near the top. Look at it this way: how long has it been since Wibaux wasn’t in the playoffs?

…sometime in the Dark Ages I’m guessing.

I’ve contemplated this before, but Wibaux is simply the (as in “thee”) standard when it comes to eight-man football in Montana. (I can hear my select Chinook critics now.) Despite any bragging that goes with being a member of championship team, surely there’s a little extra bragging if one of those victories in route to the Montana state title includes vanquishing a Wibaux team—especially if it occurs in the championship match.

Not long ago, some guy in some bar—say Havre, Montana—likely just told someone that he was on the 2002 Scobey state championship team. You can almost hear him say in the same breath, “…and we beat Wibaux in the title game!”

But the day will surely come—maybe even next year—Wibaux will win another title. After falling short in the past, might this future Longhorn championship team be any more special then these past runner up teams? Probably not. Win or lose, they have all served as bearers of a standard that is quintessential Montana eight-man football.

So, congratulations are in order to the Ennis Mustangs. They were victorious over a bona fide and formidable Wibaux team. They have passed the acid test. They have earned the badge. They have passed “GO” and can now collect their $200. Without question, the Ennis Mustangs earned the title of “State Champs.”

Postscript: Here's a nice story on SB Nation about Wibaux's season and eight-man football in Eastern Montana by Jamie Rogers.

Weather, The Home Field... Next

Roy-Winifred celebrate their state title victory at Denton.

OK, it can snow now.

Another football season has come to a close and I’ve managed to not get myself stuck or stranded in the middle of nowhere as the result of travelling to some far-off gridiron game.

And though this past championship weekend in Montana was no tropical paradise, the snow stayed in the mountains even if the wind blew its cold across the football fields. In Denton, the sun was even shining, although wooly hats were still the preferred attire.

I found myself reminiscing about those warm-weather championship games of the past: Centerville 1999, Cokeville 2001, and Hysham 2007. I’ve been pretty lucky. Chalk it up to the benefits of global warming.

Beyond the fairly hospitable weather, I splashed out this final weekend of travel, overnighting at Big Timber’s Grand Hotel and then retreating to Lewistown’s Yogo Inn after Saturday’s shootout in Denton.

Roy-Winifred at Denton.

No Place Like Home?So much for the home-field advantage—unless you’re a Huntley Project fan. Of the five Montana title games, only the Red Devils playing at home were victorious. Helena Capital, Billings Central, Wibaux and Denton all played host to someone who ended up wrecking their parties. I can only imagine that there must have been some pretty jovial bus rides as the victorious visitors made their way home on Saturday night.

What’s Next?Although the football season is over as far as I’m concerned (OK, part of it remains as long as the Griz are chugging along), it still lives on here as I plan to tie up a few loose ends that I didn’t get to address this past season (or perhaps previous seasons). It would be nice if two to three postings per month materialized, but I’m not making any promises on football’s 26th day of December. I realize that many readers will lose interest as other sports heat up. However, upon their return sometime next August, they’ll find a backlog of postings to catch up on—priming them for the new season.

What’s on next year’s agenda for this small town football fan? Wibaux summer practice (if they’ll have me. I hear its tougher than Marine Corps boot camp), Charlo, Circle, Medicine Lake-Froid, Lincoln, more Wyoming six-man, and, with any luck, another visit or two into Idaho.

And this: Can we get some of Wyoming’s new six-man teams to play at least one Montana team during the regular season?

Which teams will be “up” next year and which will likely have a “rebuilding” year?

Go Griz (and their small town football contingency)...

Hysham's Magic

The Pirates of Hysham make their way through town on the
way to their home gridiron for the six-man title game.

If I were a betting man, I would have wagered $100 on Augusta defeating Hysham in the six-man title game. Good thing I don't bet. I'm still trying to determine how Hysham won it? I was there, but I'm having a hard time putting my finger on how the Pirates did it so convincingly.

Good coaching? Sure, but Augusta's Coach Barrett is no slouch.

Speed? I'd say so, but it wasn't obvious, was it?

Good discipline and execution? Yes. At least I was conscience of that a couple times—once while running back Matt Icopini waited patiently for a trap to develop on the sparsely populated, six-man line of scrimmage. It payed off as he raced 54 yards for the touchdown.

Tough? Oh yes. They have to be, but who isn't when they make it to the title game?

Pirate magic? Sure, it makes as much sense as anything.

And here's the kicker... They won the Montana Class C six-man title with only one senior on their 13-man roster and never lost a game all year.

***
At five-foot, seven-inches (at best), I'm a believer in that old expression "dynamite comes in small packages." But, when Hysham started walking down Main Street on their way to the gridiron, I was thinking to myself, "Is that it? Are there some other players coming out later... like, the varsity?"

In the game program, Hysham's #20, Tait Hollowell was listed at 185 pounds—soaking wet maybe. Programs don't lie, do they?

I'd seen Augusta at North Star several weeks earlier and I was impressed by their size and athleticism. However, they had lost to Highwood during the regular season, but Highwood lost to Hysham twice—once at home and another time at Hysham in the playoffs. So, when the Pirates appeared, I assumed that the Elks must have had a really bad day with Highwood or some key players didn't make the game that day.

As Augusta waited to receive the opening kick-off, I watched the Pirates' small-framed, kick-off team run out on the field as I prepared myself for the Augusta return man to take it back all the way. It didn't happen and what was even more surprising, it never happened.

The entire game was a reminder of last year's eight-man title game at Centerville. When the Miners came out on the field and I saw their great numbers, but relatively small size, I calculated Wibaux was going to win by four touchdowns... easy. I was wrong then, and wrong again this time at Hysham.

But, you know, I don't mind being wrong. It's good for the soul as long as one is willing to admit it.

***
Not only was the Hysham-Augusta match-up a great small town high school football game, it was also a great day for all the wonderful attributes of such settings—most of them people related.

First there was A'lona, one of the Hysham moms who assisted decorating the highway approaching the town. She has a daughter attending the high school, but you would have thought she had a son starting at quarterback too. I met up with her again at halftime when I heard the championship game shirt sales were going fast. I walked over to the table where she was working with only four bucks in my pocket. Strapped for cash and no ATM in sight, I promised her a CD of images from the game and my remaining dollar bills in exchange for a shirt. The CD is in the mail A'lona!

Than there was Paul and Frank, the two elder corn farmers at the Chuckwagon Café (open 6 a.m. to 3 p.m.) that have probably never heard of the word "retirement." They weren't attending the game because they had a test plot just outside of town to work, but had plenty of time to chat with us over coffee and breakfast. When they walked in and found no available tables, they took up my offer to join Slim and I at our table for four.

During the game I became acutely aware regarding how many times the opposing team players helped their opponent up after a tackle. I know it's a common thing, but it seemed uncommonly prolific in the contest—text book good sportsmanship. Funny, I don't think I have an image anywhere in my work that includes this friendly scenario. And just like that, I have a new assignment for next season already.

The magic of small town high school football appeared to follow us to the big city of Billings. We decided to get a cup of coffee at the City Brew coffee house before driving the last darkened, 90 minutes of our trip home that is illuminated only by headlights with the exception of a few streetlights when driving through Fromberg and Bridger. Tired from our big day in Hysham, an elderly man named Robert walked over to our table and initiated a conversation about hair styles for older men that led to other topics. As it turned out, Robert was a retired history professor who earned a doctorate from Columbia University a long time ago and flew as a B-24 Liberator bombardier during the late stages of World War II. As colourful as his stories were given his age of 82 years, he was excited to hear of our day at Hysham and told us how he would love to see a six-man football game someday. We exchanged contact information and promised to include him in a six-man game next season.

It was a day of magic.