PURPLE POWER

Football season is here. Although the team didn't do so well last week we can pin our hopes on winning the "Island Cup" coming up Thanksgiving weekend.

PURPLE POWER

I’m not much of a sports person. I never really got football, the main object of which seems to be to knock your opponent down and steal their ball. It doesn’t strike me as very sporting. I can dredge up a little enthusiasm for the Super Bowl (I don’t usually care who wins unless the Patriots are playing) or the Rose Bowl or any game Notre Dame is playing. There is one game, however, that I actually go to and cheer at. I go to see Martha’s Vineyard trounce Nantucket in the annual Island Cup game. I scream as loud as anyone.
Living on an Island with only one high school makes it ‘our’ team. I have no connection to the school, no children who are students, I only know one of the teachers. But I have lots of friends who have children or grandchildren that go to Island schools. And they all show up for this game. In fact hundreds of people show up for this game. It’s like homecoming for adults. It’s an annual reunion, whether here or on Nantucket. They’ve been known to run a special ferry when the game is ‘over there’.
The Island fans are a strange and wonderful group. Everyone is decked out in school colors. Hair ribbons, feather boas, hats, sweatshirts, jackets; if an article of clothing or other item of adornment comes in purple someone will surely be wearing one. It doesn’t seem to bother the team that they look like a bunch of Barneys running around the field. They get so much support that if the school colors were pink and white they would wear them just as proudly. The coaches are traditional Vineyard macho men in their khaki shorts no matter the weather, proving what mom always said, body heat escapes from your head. As long as you have a hat on you’re ok.
These fans don’t just dress the part. Purple flows through their veins and they want the opposition to know it. They make so much noise you’d think you were in Fenway Park when the Red Sox are playing the (excuse my language) Yankees. They have ‘clackers’, cow bells and whistles. If it makes noise someone has one. There’s an elderly woman that has an old beat up brass horn. It sounds like a tractor trailer without breaks bearing down on you. I get a little annoyed until my husband points out that she only blows it when the Nantucket Quarter Back is calling a play. The object is to drown him out so the team didn’t know what to do. Once I know there’s a method to her madness I accept the periodic blasts with good humor. Anything to help ‘our’ team. (On the other hand I hope no one has a vuvuzuela this year)
The fans don’t just support the team with their voices and clothing, however. There is much to be purchased at these games and the fans open their wallets and spend freely. There is a constant stream of people climbing up and down the bleachers with hot dogs, hamburgers, pizza, delectable baked goods, and (God help anyone in the way) steaming cups of chowder. Hats, sweatshirts, t-shirts, hair ribbons, and buttons could all be had, and the 50/50 raffle took in over $2000.
The cheer leaders were trying really hard but they lose control of the crowd about halfway into the second quarter. Their cheers are wonderful, combining dance routines, gymnastics and clever vocals but they can’t compete with the fans. Guys bellow “Go D” so loudly I wouldn’t be surprised if they hear them in Falmouth. But the real competition for the girls was when everyone starts yelling “We want the cup, we want the cup”. Now if you happened to be here without knowing anything about the Island cup this would sound like a very odd cheer to be sure since most football fans know that ‘the cup’ is an item of protective gear worn by the players. But back to the cheer leaders. When I was in high school only the prettiest, thinnest girls got to be cheer leaders. I am gratified to see this is no longer the case. It is good to see that enthusiasm and school spirit are now more important than body type.
It’s a good game. I say that because we usually win. Community spirit and rabid fans can make a difference. Do make a difference. When the boys in purple get tired, all that love and approval lifts them up and keeps their momentum going.
When the game is played over on that other island, win or lose, everyone greets the returning ferry. There are police cars and fire trucks with their lights flashing and sirens blaring; and these tired, sometimes disappointed sometimes jubilant warriors surely know where they belong.