Steve is fascinated by my little hometown in northeast Ohio and after visiting there last winter, he expressed a desire to see a Massillon Tiger football game. Coincidentally, my mom's 65th birthday this year fell on the weekend of the biggest football rivalry in the state of Ohio-one that dates back to 1894-the Massillon Tigers and McKinley Bulldogs game. If Steve was going to see a football game, this was the one to see. We got a decent price on tickets and killed two birds with one stone.
I have mixed feelings about my hometown, and going back there is always a surreal experience for me. For starters, I don't feel my age, and when I see people I knew in my youth I am shocked at how old everyone looks. The shaggy, mullet sporting boys are now bald, middle aged men. The girls whose figures I envied are victims of unforgivable gravity and spreading hips. Economically, Northeast Ohio is an area that has never fared well, and right now things look especially grim. Whenever I visit, I want to hire a fleet of buses and shoosh the entire population of Stark County into them and deliver the people to areas with better job prospects and a more optimistic outlook. So many residents have never lived outside of that one zip code their entire life, an existence I knew would never work for me. I left at 18, and never looked back. I've lived in five different states, and would be perfectly happy if I left my mark in a few others before my time is up. I love the process of discovering a new place and finding my way around an unknown community. My wanderlust would never have allowed a happy existence for me in 44646 exclusively.
Football is a source of pride and affordable entertainment for the population of Massillon. It is a religion of sorts here, and in a town of 30,000 it's normal for 20,000 to show up for the McKinley game. I haven't attended a football game here for almost a quarter of a century, but even then it wasn't my bag. My free time was spent in the library with my nose stuck in a book, I never cared about sports. I didn't attend Washington High School either, I went to the less athletically gifted Perry High School on the other side of town. I wondered as I gazed upon the astroturf and the indoor training facility if the community would be better served with enhanced educational facilities, or if that would even be appreciated.
Back to the game though. My sister and brother in law made sure that Steve had an authentic Massillon Tigers experience. They woke early and prepared food for a tailgate party. That's right, a tailgate party for a high school football game. Hardcore fans are known to start as early as six in the morning at this endeavor.
I was stunned at the fervor of the fans, young and old.
I'm not a student of the game, but I'm willing to bet there are very few high school stadiums with AstroTurf, digital scoreboards and luxury box seats.
Equally impressive is the marching band, though it's not as grand as it was when I was in school.
Obie the Tiger is the team mascot. One Obie wanders the field with the marching band and rallies the crowd during games. Obie's costume is made from the hide of a real tiger.
The team also has a real tiger cub on hand during football season, and Obie is kept by handlers who show the cat off in parades and elementary schools. When I was little, Obie's cage was towed by a truck sporting a calliope and player who entertained townspeople who came into contact with it.
Massillon won the game 17-0. Steve's curiosity was satisfied and I left town secure in the belief that leaving Ohio was the best thing I ever did. It was a great place to grow up, but it's not my home anymore.
