By MONTE DUTTON

Many times I have expressed the opinion that my life is seldom mediocre. Either everything goes right, or everything goes wrong.

That’s not the way life is. It’s just the way it seems. If I’d just steered clear of the present, I’d be pleased as punch instead of thinking “punch me please.”

Clinton High School honored its 1975 football team 50 years after its state championship. I participated modestly in that team’s spectacular success. State champions are revered in District 56.

After a pregame meal and considerable fellowship, I became ill after driving from CHS to Wilder Stadium. I drifted aimlessly into the stadium. Apparently it was rather obvious that I was impaired. One of my teammates took a ride to the hospital. Team doctors suggested I take advantage of the same opportunity. They thought it odd that I couldn’t answer questions coherently. I insisted that I would be fine. I’d rally.

By halftime I could think clearly again. By then I’d dropped a camera lens on concrete, rendering it useless. What I saw of the game was through the Clinton sideline. Newberry won, 41-12. I didn’t much mind the limited visibility.

Halftime was weird. Normally I take photographs of those being honored. This time I was being honored and pictures were taken of me. I got more applause than I deserved. That was either because the Clinton partisans were looking for something, anything, to make them cheer, or because my efforts over the years in recording my alma mater’s football history are well known among the faithful.

The only good news regarding this year’s Red Devils was that the team that was 50 years old had more casualties than the one now. The only good news regarding yours truly was that I haven’t slept as well as I did Friday night in at least a month. I awakened with minutes to spare before I drove to Whiteford’s, there to be one of many 1975 Red Devils to talk on the radio with Buddy Bridges on ‘Saturday Morning Rewind.

Some of my teammates I see every week. Some I haven’t seen in decades. Too many have passed away.

I wasn’t a good player, but I was a team player. That’s what Keith Richardson said about me on the radio. It takes team players to win a state championship, but great ones come in handy. They’ve got team players at Wade Hampton.

Our team was honored again on Saturday night in the CHS auditorium. Unfortunately, that gave me time to watch my college alma mater, Furman, play my hometown school, Presbyterian, on TV.

The game was lightning-delayed with Furman leading, 31-21, and PC on the Paladins’ six-yard line. During the reunion ceremonies at the high school, I learned that the Blue Hose had won in overtime, 39-38. I felt very proud for Presbyterian and told three of their players as much when I saw them at the Waffle House on Sunday morning.

I felt heartbroken that the Paladins lost. I wanted the Blue Hose to win every game but one. The fact that I have a Furman diploma is well known back home, but I don’t hear much about it. I expect this week will bring more references to my collegiate home than the rest of the year combined.

Presbyterian plays football scholarship-free. In its first two games, the Blue Hose have upended then 11^th-ranked Mercer, 15-10, and Furman. In the Pioneer Football League, all the teams eschew football scholarships. The Blue Hose are making scholarships seem like a waste of money.

Steve Englehart ought to be on The Tonight Show this week. Presbyterian hasn’t received as much attention for being 2-0 since Kevin Kelley defeated a pair of nobodies to begin 2021. I have a strong suspicion that this campaign is going to turn out a lot better. Englehart believes that the punt is a part of the game.

Thank the Good Lord for 50-year reunions. Otherwise the weekend would have been suitable for the gnashing of teeth.

Thanks to Keith Richardson – and Jimmy Miller, Ben Pitts, C.W. Wilson, Roy Walker, Binky Shealy, Shawn Venable, Reese Young, Johnny Dowdle, Denny Layne, Kim Carper and many others – the weekend wasn’t half bad.

On second thought, it was half bad. The good will linger, though.

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