By Jim Stanford on November 14, 2007
For a day, New Jackson was Old Jackson.
This was the atmosphere our forbears had told us about, longingly, how back before the real estate boom and polarizing of politics, everyone in the Hole, no matter the size of their wallet or taste in music, would come together and socialize over a beer.
And so it was again on Saturday, as a crowd 5,000 strong streamed into William T. McIntosh Stadium at Jackson Hole High School. Just about all of our neighbors seemed to be there, tailgating in the back of pickup trucks hours before kickoff, or hiking and biking along the pathway to the game.
Bronc-o-mania was running wild, making those black hats with the orange “J” a must-have fashion statement.
As I pedaled toward the field on a warm, breezy November afternoon, I thought,
Our team has already won.
This was a football program that hadn’t had a winning season since 1990, that was nearly disbanded in 1995 after only 19 students signed up to play. Now it was undefeated, playing at home for the state championship.
We had heard all the reasons why the Broncs might never field a winner again: too small, too soft, too many distractions, too many rich kids and not enough ranch kids, too many athletes who’d rather skate or snowboard than lift weights.
The rest of the state loves to knock Jackson along these same lines:
not real Wyoming.
I thought back to the late ’90s, when I used to cover high school sports for the Jackson Hole News.
Those were the Broncs of Jake Gildea, Gene Moses, Chris Cottingham and Rudy Sanford. Back then we celebrated a 4-4 season as a solid accomplishment.
During the game, I ran into Brian Siegfried, my early counterpart at the Guide and later a colleague. Zig and I had commiserated on many a cold, disappointing night when the Broncs came up short. “Neither one of us could have imagined this 10 years ago,” he said, as we shared a hearty laugh.
All these kids did this season was shake the preconceptions, the history of losing, like tacklers in the open field, outrunning and outworking everyone they played.
The team reflected the diversity of the community, with names like Sky and Maverick and a Latino player, Carlos Bonilla, as one of our starting running backs.
The championship lived up to its billing, a test of two unbeaten teams, Tetons vs. Big Horns. The visitors in gold gave an admirable effort.
Fans spilled out of the bleachers and ringed the field, sitting on the grass along the edge of the track.
The outpouring of spirit was tremendous. I have a friend who is shy and somewhat reclusive, with little interest in football, who detests crowds and is not a rah-rah type. To my pleasant surprise, she was there, in the thick of it, dressed in orange.
Mother Nature played along. Early in the third quarter, a bald eagle glided by overhead, as if checking out the action.
The Broncs made some spectacular plays, starting with quarterback Blane Woodfin’s 80-yard touchdown dash. There was Alex Bush, who had made like Reggie Bush all season, diving for a one-handed catch along the sideline. There was Tyler Wetzel, the senior lineman, grabbing a Buffalo ball carrier by the collar and slinging him to the turf with one hand. Sean McDonald, who as a sophomore appears to be the second coming of Sebastian Janikowski, nailed yet another 40-yard field goal to stake Jackson to a 10-0 lead. (University of Wyoming recruiters, take note of these guys.)
And then, with the game in the balance and the home fans’ hearts in their throats, there was the desperate, diving stab by Mitchell Clark, who raced across the field to chase down Buffalo quarterback Tyler Gibbs, six yards from the end zone. On a fourth-down play, Gibbs had broken free and sprinted down the sideline for 74 yards, and it seemed like the Broncs were headed for heartbreak all over again, until Clark got just enough of a hand on him to force him out of bounds.
It’s only fitting that defense, the less glamorous, blue-collar side of football, was the strong suit of this team. Rarely does a defensive player make the headlines; it takes a collective effort to shut down an opponent.
For the third time in the game, Jackson’s defense — nicknamed the “Black Death” — would stand its ground and deny Buffalo the end zone on four tries. It was hard to tell who made the clutch tackles; a team-wide surge moved the bigger, heavier Bison backward and repelled the ball carriers only inches from the goal.
When it was over, when those tense last few seconds ticked off the clock and fans finally exhaled, snow began to fall over the Tetons.
The crowd was slow to storm the field. It was almost as if people didn’t know how to react. After all, it had been 21 years since the Broncs last celebrated a football championship. We should have torn down the goalposts.
How satisfying to see Coach Bill Wiley and Athletic Director Sean Shockley hold the championship trophy aloft; the two were teammates on the ’86 team that last won the title and have dedicated their lives to public education, teaching kids how to play and have fun. Together with their staffs they have built a program of excellence that extends throughout the high school’s athletics.
About the only thing this team couldn’t do was carry Wiley off the field. Several players gave pained looks when I suggested they hoist him on their shoulders, as the ‘81 and ‘86 teams did with the late Coach Jim Rooks.
“To go undefeated and win state was great,” Wiley said, “but to bring the community together to support these kids, that’s huge. That’s even more important.”
Rich, poor, white, brown, skiers, cowboys, natives, transplants, far right and far left — on this day we were all “J.” And damn proud of it.
Only a few days after leading the Broncs to the state title, Coach Wiley was hospitalized in Salt Lake with a heart ailment.
Story about his emergency surgery:
http://www.planetjh.com/news/A_102491.aspx
The News&Guide reported Nov. 21 that Wiley was in serious but stable condition.
Now we’re cheering for him to get back on his feet.