For all the days, nights, concession-stand meals and deadline drama that we devote to the basketball tournament and football championship Saturday, there’s no time of year so rewarding as the months of May and June.

You chuckle, because maybe I’m just guilty of being glad the season is almost over, and that I can work on my farmer’s tan while covering golf and auto racing this summer. Somewhere in the depths of my weary-but-scheming brain, probably there’s some truth to that.

There are less selfish motives involved, however. I simply love the dizzying pageantry and the raw emotion of this time of year. The flowers. The balloons. The hugs from parents and stepparents who got it right. The playing of games at 1 or 2 o’clock on a school day so the participants can swap their uniform for a shirt and tie, a dress, or a cap and gown and rush off to a baccalaureate service.

Spring is consistently accompanied by the most poignant reminders of why I still love this profession, 27 years deep. I’m the first person to rail against parents, coaches and community members who err on the side of living vicariously through their athletes. Yet as every school year draws to a close, I shamelessly violate my own rules.

Every spring is the emotional end of an era. It reinforces that for all the complaining we do about our society, our schools, our sports programs, or our “system” in general, that the system still gets it right more often than not. We turn out good athletes, solid students and exceptional people around here.

To graduate as a student-athlete in 2015 means you have beaten the odds. You have overcome the prohibitive costs and time limitations. You have sacrificed countless family getaway days that had to be rescheduled around games or practices. You have mastered time management skills that escape most adults. You achieved the maximum with your body and mind during what is a trying, four-year season of change for both.

So much courage is required to be an athlete, and so much of it gets taken for granted. You allow yourself to bake in the spotlight for spectators who sometimes forget you are not professionals. You risk injuries that frankly could change your quality of life down the road. Your social life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And forget about that summer job when all three of your coaches were expecting you to attend their offseason workouts.

Now, and only now, as you graduate, are most of the adult stakeholders in your life stopping to smell the roses and remind you how proud we are. Believe us when we say we will miss these days as much as you do a year, or five, or 30 from today. Also believe us when we say that you’ll be telling the stories of these days on the fields and courts for generations to come, as vividly as if they happened yesterday, even if you have to embellish your role in them just a little bit.

‘Tis a season that is equal parts celebratory and agonizing. As I reveled in the accomplishments of Isaiah Harris and Kate Hall in Saturday’s state track and field championships, it was a brutal jolt back to earth when I realized that I’ll probably never get to watch them do their thing, live, ever again.

The same goes for so many athletes for became my go-to people at the end of games, no matter the season. Tyler Frost and Kaine Hutchins of Dirigo. Kyle Bourget of Lisbon. Ben Allen of Winthrop. Lew Jensen and Ian Mileikis of Edward Little. Davis Turner of Oxford Hills. Peter Theriault and Deonte Ring of Spruce Mountain. Kyle Flaherty and Alex Mace of Oak Hill. Mitchel Davis of Leavitt. Mike Bryant and Mitch Lorenz of St. Dom’s. Caleb Gauvin of Mountain Valley.

My colleague Kevin Mills could rattle off the same kind of roll call, perhaps twice as long, for girls’ sports. This was a hell of a class, folks. They have earned the trophies, the scholarships, the adulation and the spoils of graduation.

Sports are subjected to paradoxical extremes in the education process. They are both excessively celebrated and grossly underestimated. Ask some of the most successful people in our society which aspects of their youth contributed to their wisdom, strength of character and ability to overcome adversity, and I bet four out of five will cite memories from the playing field that reign supreme over those taught in a classroom.

That’s the most exciting thing for me about this season of mixed emotions. Watching you people excel has been a joy. I will miss it terribly. But I know I’ll be hearing of bigger, better accomplishments from all of you in the years ahead.

Which is the object of the game, folks. Thank you so much for playing.

Kalle Oakes is a staff writer. His email is koakes@sunjournal.com. Follow him on Twitter @Oaksie72.

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