Didn’t have much time to breathe while typing two fingers at a time after Saturday night’s Maine Shrine Lobster Bowl, much less contemplate what I had just watched.
One friendly member of the clean-up crew confirmed that the senior football all-star game will revert to the traditional 4 p.m. start time next summer. I hope he’s right, because it is an event that merits all the analysis and coverage the seasonally-starved local media can furnish.
Youth sports does so many things wrong that it can leave us feeling burned out, or at least super-cynical. And other charity all-star competitions, while launched and promoted with the best of intentions, fall shy in almost every category.
There is no mistaking, when you try to watch and enjoy those contests, that they are glorified exhibitions. Rules are lax. Substitution patterns leave the game with zero flow. Defense is non-existent. The polite-but-distracted crowd is made up of family and friends.
We only get one Lobster Bowl, and I hope we fully appreciate it. It’s a year past the quarter-century pole and still drawing standing-room-only crowds to one of the largest high school venues in the state, Waterhouse Field in Biddeford.
Other than a smattering of Sea Dogs and Pirates games, the Oxford 250, the TD Beach to Beacon road race and the Class A football and basketball championships, no sporting event in our fair state attracts a larger crowd than the Lobster Bowl.
It’s completely out of season. It’s surrounded by competition from clams, tall ships, beaches and air-conditioned movie theaters. It’s utterly impractical for high school graduates who are getting ready to run off to freshman orientation or basic training. Yet it’s darned near perfect in its presentation and right on the money with its mission, year after year after entertaining year.
The Shriners stopped transporting players to Springfield, Mass., for the annual visit to the children’s hospital a while back, out of concern for patient privacy laws and the like. That’s a shame, because no matter how many words are written and speeches are given, the reason for the game is something that must be seen to be fully appreciated. Likewise, it really requires a seat in the intimate bleachers or a place to plant your feet behind the rope to digest what the game is all about.
Every Lobster Bowl features the best and brightest seniors, sequestered for a week with the best and brightest coaches, then turned loose in an electric atmosphere. Regardless of the final score — and this year’s was a lopsided 45-21 West victory — the end result is a sight to behold.
Some parting thoughts about the latest gridiron showcase:
* On the list of athletes I’ve covered with a heart three times the size of their body, Tyler Frost of Dirigo might be No. 1. He dominated the first half, making six solo tackles, most of them for a loss. Nobody who ever watched Frost play for the Class D Cougars should be surprised that he flaunts Class A+ talent. That his college choice showed minimal interest in his joining their program is a travesty I can’t even fathom. It sufficiently explains why they’ve been taking a beating in New England Division III the past few seasons.
* Noah Nelson of Falmouth is more than just a bright kid with locally famous parents (news anchors Lee Nelson and Cindy Williams of Channel 6). He has as much raw potential as any Maine kid I’ve seen at quarterback. Had he been surrounded by the likes of Brett Gerry, Matt Vigue and Gabe Seeley for four years, he would have been unbeatable. Bowdoin College is getting a very good one.
* Speaking of Seeley, my goodness, what a catch. There’s a social media meme going around that places Seeley’s touchdown grab from Nelson side-by-side with The One made by the Giants’ Odell Beckham Jr. in 2014. It would be presumptuously hilarious if the two plays didn’t look so startlingly similar. The Leavitt product is headed for Husson, where he will be roommates with Quintarian Brown of Lewiston. Coaches there must be drooling over those two. You can draw up plays all day, but you can’t teach 6-foot-4 and 6-foot-3 with hops.
* West coach Mike Hathaway yelling “McLovin” every time he sought the attention of Oak Hill’s Adam Merrill all evening still has me doubled over. If you’ve never seen the Raiders’ kicker in real life or aren’t familiar with the “Superbad” movie character that nickname invokes, well, trust me, Hathaway is right. Striking resemblance.
* I’m always impressed by the legitimate, mostly healthy dislike that the East and West teams develop for one another over the course of a week. It was a lively sideline, to say the least, and the hits during the game were midseason vicious. In a world where traditional rivalries have lost much of their luster due to migrating population and softer attitudes, as long as it doesn’t escalate into anything stupid, I think it’s wonderful.
* Equally wonderful is the brotherhood the game fosters in its teammates. I can’t speak for the East, because I watched the game from the West sideline, but there was love and respect among the boys in blue that can’t be faked. Being chosen to participate in the Lobster Bowl is a ticket to friendships and memories that last a lifetime. Find me another all-star game — or sporting event of any other brand, really — that so consistently delivers such deeper meaning.
Kalle Oakes is a staff writer. His email is koakes@sunjournal.com. Follow him on Twitter @Oaksie72 and like his Facebook fan page at facebook.com/kalleoakes.sj.
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