By MONTE DUTTON

The sun was behind the visiting side of Wilder Stadium, hanging over the 20-yard line, and all the football players loose from baseball had golden coronas encircling their heads. The springtime celebration of the Class 2A state championship took just about as long as the game a little over five months earlier, and the crowd at Wilder Stadium was larger than many schools draw for rivalries in the fall.

In fairness, it didn’t cost anything to get in, but in Clinton, a couple thousand show up any time word gets around that the public-address system is operating, and if Kevin Harlan grew up in Joanna, he would sound like Buddy Bridges.

The first time a record of football being played by Clinton High School was uncovered was 1920. The Laurens County powerhouse in those days was Thornwell Orphanage. There were probably some Saturday afternoons in the 19-teens when boys on the mill hill got hold of a bunch from Laurens, and they played ball in a field somewhere about where the hospital is now, but if so, nobody wrote about it in the newspaper.

Clinton, which originally got its mascot from a can of Red Devil Lye, won its first state championship in the town of Lake View in 1939. In 1972, the second occurred across the lake in Greenwood. The 1975 title took place in Myrtle Beach. Charleston was the site of 1977. The only Wilder Stadium championship was in 1978. The conquests of 1985, ‘87 and 2009 were in Columbia, and Barnwell fell 35-6 last December in Orangeburg.

Few South Carolina towns have won nine state championships, but it’s still only nine in 125 years (also eight in the last 53), and it’s just one every 13.88 years (6.63), and that qualifies as a many-splendored, rare and precious thing.

It’s enough to start the kids and the coaches and the fans wanting another one every year. It’s so damn much fun. Clinton is a happier place when the Red Devils are rolling.

Thanks to the Voice of the Red Devils, those who paid close attention to Friday evening’s ceremonies know as much about the most valuable special-teams player on the junior varsity as they do about several members of their own families.

The rings the lads received could be seen from satellites if the sun hit them just right.

Clinton didn’t just win its ninth state championship because Corey Fountain is a great coach, though he is. The Red Devils won it in part because Fountain fits. He is wholesome. He is friendly. He has a knack for making kids love to play for him and coaches love to coach with him. He is a force for good in his community, and so is his team.

Neither he nor the team is perfect, but they aren’t overly impressed with themselves, either.

For the love of God, these kids seem to enjoy practicing! They believe it’s possible to get better every day. When they say that, it’s natural to look at their expressions, trying to find some telltale sign of cynicism. They are clear-eyed. It’s tempting to say, “Yeah, right,” but it will not work.

They appear to like each other. They are cheerful when punishing the opposition. Most weeks, the opposition gets used to it.

Thank you, sir, may I have another?

I was watching Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid the other night. When Paul Newman and Robert Redford couldn’t shake the Pinkerton men who were pursuing them, they kept saying to each other, “Who are those guys?”

They finally gave up and left for Bolivia, there to meet their fate.

I don’t see that happening in the South Carolina High School League.

A state championship is hard, but the Clinton Red Devils are established contenders. The world may change tomorrow, but the signs are precious few. The JV team has lost once during roughly two Trumps and a Biden. Some great players are graduating, which happens every year. When they lose some magic, it pops up somewhere else. They have no sense of entitlement, no suspicion that their bodily fluids don’t stink.

They hitch up their britches and go to work.

Imagine how great it would be if politicians could do that.

I think I hope the Pacers beat the Knicks in the NBA Eastern Finals, even though the players and fans wear tee shirts that read “Yes, ‘Cers!” What kind of slogan is that?

I”ve got nothing against nicknames, but they ought to make sense. Everyone calls Nikola Jokic “Joker.” Ain’t no joking to that dude. He is deadly serious. Then again, he’s home.

Some words mean anything. “Tweak” used to mean tinker with something to make it better. Now it means’ “hurt.” He tweaked an ankle.

A goat used to be the guy who blew the game. Now he’s the GOAT (“greatest of all time”). And the greatest of all time now means simply “the best I’ve seen.” You ask me who’s the GOAT, and I say Willie Mays. “Oh, well, I never saw him.” Then read a damn book. Look him up on YouTube. Ignorance excuses no one.

As school ends, many young people are pondering their futures . Here’s my advice. If you want to make a living, raise a family and build a business, learn a trade. If you have a thirst for knowledge and have an interest in what makes the world go ‘round, go to college.

Either way, read the occasional book. I’ve written a bunch of them. Most are available on Amazon.