“Look at that,” my dad said as he rewound the tape we were watching. “Flair parted the light.”
It was late November of 1987 and dad had obtained a VHS tape (for younger readers, it was magnetized tape inside a plastic box-like structure and is how we recorded and watched things back then) of the recent Starrcade ’87, Chi-Town heat. I was a huge wrestling fan at the time and most excited to see the Rock-n-Roll Express battle the Midnight Express in a Skywalkers match. Really…could not wait to see people try to fling one another off a dinky little scaffold above a wrestling ring. Well, as memory serves it was entertaining night of matches all the way around, including when “The Nature Boy” Ric Flair came to the ring. He had recently lost his world heavyweight title to Ron Garvin and was getting a rematch. I hated Flair at the time but dad loved him…and loved to torment me by frequently holding up the signature four fingers and screaming “WOO.” Anyway, even if I rooted against him every time he stepped in the ring, I had to admit Flair made a great entrance…it was hard not to notice since dad rewound it a good 15 times and made me watch it over and over again as Flair emerged from the dressing room, with the only lights in the UIC Pavillion being a pair of spotlight shining on “The Nature Boy,” his robe sparkling. He raised his arms in presentational fashion and, sure enough, the lighting guy synched up the parting of those spotlights as Flair did so. “HE PARTED THE LIGHT!” my dad pointed out again. I mean, it wasn’t the Red Sea or anything, but it was impressive nonetheless. I guess that was when it first dawned on me that making an entrance in sports was important. It sets a tone, it creates an ambiance and can serve as a tool of intimidation…unless you suck, but even then you are at least providing the home folks with some entertainment before suffering a crippling, inept, embarrassing, defeat. With high school football practice coming up in just three days (and because of the great response I got last night to my dumb, subjective list about South Carolina’s most awesome high school mascots) I decided to come up with another list, this one being the best entrances in Palmetto State prep football. Now, the mascot one was easy to do…anybody can look at a list of mascot names, wade through the bevy of jungle cats, bugs with stingers and men ready for battle and determine that “Auctioneers,” “Predators,” and “War Horses” are unique and completely rock. To fairly critique a team’s entrance, you have to have been to a game and seen it first-hand. I’ve seen a lot, but I haven’t seen them all, so I enlisted the help of friends and fellow prep football-loving bloggers Jed Blackwell and James McBee in this mission. I’m also soliciting your assistance. If you see a glaring omission, leave it in the comment section or tweet me @CNR_Sports. Ware Shoals- “Move, I’m fixin’ to shoot the cannon,” someone yelled in my direction. It’s hard to believe that a threat of dismemberment via old-timey weaponry can blend into the background, but it did, as I stood in the Ware Shoals end zone, looking over rosters and getting my camera out of the bag. “Camera dude! MOVE! I’m fixin…to shoot…the cannon,” the voice rang out again. You can understand being in disbelief upon hearing that sentence. It seems as ridiculous on its face as somebody saying “I’d take an umbrella outside if I was you, Bo, flaming taters are falling out of the sky.” Still, self-preservation kicked in and I moved, just as a ground-shaking blast rang out across the greater Abbeville, Greenwood area. I don’t know if there was cannonball involved, but there was smoke. Lots and lots of smoke. The cannon blast was followed by fireworks as the Ware Shoals Purple Hornets football team began its walk through the stands toward the field. There’s actually a law against detonating explosives, even ones that whistle and make pretty colors, on school grounds…so it was pretty handy that there’s a house right behind the end zone, the front yard of which was the staging area for all the bang-y stuff. Up your bucket law man…my yard, my M-80s, my choice. When you combine cannon and fireworks with the old building in the far end zone made of rock and the antique game clock that is actually an analogue clock with hands, and the slow trickle of purple-clad warriors descending toward the field through the excited throngs of fans, you get an amazing atmosphere and one of the best entrances in high school football. Pageland Central- For as long as I’ve watched and covered high school football, the Eagles have been a tough, no-frills football team. They specialize in blunt-force trauma. They don’t throw it much or engage in much gimmickry…the usually run some bone or wing variation and play blunt force trauma football. They are going to line up and beat the ever-loving crap out of you for 48 minutes and will probably win. That mentality is evidenced by their season preparation (which I’ve always heard involves players throwing watermelons at one another in the self-proclaimed “Watermelon Capital of the World”) and their entrance onto the field. No bells or whistles…no flags or fireworks. A single player runs down a short hill onto the field. The next man does the same, but slams into the first guy as he does. The next man comes down the hill and wallops that second guy. They do this until the entire team is on the field, meaning each will have hit and been hit (hard) before the opening kickoff. It gives you a taste of what you’re in for. Pageland is the only school in the state I know of to never suffer a losing season…and given their entrance, it’s not hard to figure out how they’ve done it. Chester and Great Falls- I’m biased, being a graduate of Chester and having covered both for many years, but this isn’t a stretch. Just before game time, Chester’s players exit the practice field, walk across the parking lot and congregate at the top of the hill behind one of the end zones. They stand, overlooking the field and opponent, like an eagle in flight peering down at a fat squirrel with a limp (it’s soon-to-be prey, in other words). They bounce, they jump, they sway side-to-side, then as the band plays “2001” the team barrels down the hill and through a banner onto the field. Sometimes they bring along a sledgehammer. Whether it was the original intent or not, it combines the entrance traditions of both Clemson and South Carolina. I’ve seen it 100 times, I’m sure, and I’m not tired of it yet. Great Falls doesn’t do much in the way of theatrics at all and don’t have to. The stadium sits in what looks like a crater. For some reason, it is always a few degrees hotter in that hole in the summer and a little colder in the winter. If you’ve been there, you know I’m not exaggerating and that the place has its own weather system. The team exits its locker room at the high school (we don’t have field houses in Chester County) and marches, methodically down an enormous, steep bank to the field in a single-file line. It’s almost militaristic…it’s definitely an intimidating sight for opponents. They don’t get in a hurry. Nope…they take their time. Gives you a little longer to look at all the guys in black and red and think about things. Things like “oh crap, I don’t want to play them.” James McBee Fort Dorchester-The entrance at Fort Dorchester is something amazing to witness as a visiting fan. Fort Dorchester's name is the Patriots, a nod to the Patriot riders during the American Revolution, and as you're waiting for the game to start you hear the announcer begin to talk about the story of the Patriot riders in the area during the American Revolution. He then explains that they had a warning sound that would be played to signal to all the Patriots to return and defend the fort. It's then that the siren sounds and he announces it's now time for all the Patriots to defend the fort. While this is going on you are also watching the team arrive behind the stadium with the buses rocking. It's then that Robert Quinn, a current NFL player for the Rams, appears on the screen and announces "Whose that there? That's our Patriots" as the team enters the field through a cloud of smoke that almost appears to be a fog. It's not often I'm impressed by a high school football entrance but my trip to Fort Dorchester was one of those times. The fact that the entrance incorporated the history of the school name and the history of the area that it was in was what really made this one of the Top 10 SC football entrances. Jed Blackwell Gaffney - For years, there was one way in to the home side of Brumbach Stadium in Gaffney. Through the tunnel. It was a magical journey, to be sure. Members of this blog panel and our extended media "family" took one cold November evening for a playoff game. By the time we walked out onto the field, an hour before game time, the crowd was already at a full-throated roar. I'm not sure I've ever wanted to hit somebody more, not even when I played. When the new Reservation was built, all shiny and modern and new, there was certainly no structural need for an antiquated tunnel. So Gaffney did what any reasonable program would do. They built one anyway. They still walk through it to get to the field for every home game. Seeing them rush out to the logo at midfield behind a sprinting student mascot who plants a spear in the ground is a site to behold. The way they do it for big games is even better. Picture it: Byrnes and Gaffney are both nationally ranked. The Rebels take the field as boos rain down. Then comes the smoke, the "16 TIME" Nature Boy Ric Flair Bit, and the fight song. The Indian reaches midfield at a dead sprint and plants his spear, expecting to be mobbed by the team as usual. They were nowhere close. That's because they were walking. They filed out of that tunnel side by side, locked arms, and approached the 50 at a menacing, businesslike pace. Damn. Byrnes - The Rebels are another team that do it the right way. There's been an inflatable helmet added to the mix now, and with the addition of the new field house the Rebels don't bus around to the hill near the student section like they did before. But you can still hear the cleats clacking on the pavement on the way to the field. The chrome "Silver Bullet" helmets are still impressive. And the flags...yeah, about those flags. I used to know whose idea it was, but it's lost in my memory now. In any event, since the Rebels began their decade of dominance in 2002, there had been flags carried onto the field, one for the "High Powered Offense" and one for the "Strike Force" defense. As Byrnes was rising to national prominence, they also began taking on top-flight teams from other states. Glades Central from Belle Glade, Florida was supposed to be a different animal. They were big, fast, strong and tested. They chased rabbits through the Everglades to train. Byrnes had never seen the like. The Rebels were good, but they were about to see what Florida football was all about. That narrative held right up until the time the buses emptied, the Rebels took the field, and between the HPO and Strike Force flags stood Stanley Hunter, waving the Palmetto and Crescent as a matter of state pride. I had chills then. I have chills NOW. The Raiders never had a chance. Honorable Mention: Chapman (away games,1988-1990): I'm putting the Panthers here because I went to Chapman and this was impressive. Lawson's Fork Creek runs beside several schools in Spartanburg County, and the tributary winds its way beside the field that formerly served as Chapman's practice field when the school was on Oakland Avenue in Inman. There was a running joke about mystical powers from the water in "Panther Creek", and for a few seasons the team seized on that. For road games, someone would fill a water bottle from the creek, mark it, and put it on the bus. When the Panthers broke the banner and ran onto the visitors' field somebody, usually defensive lineman Bubba Scruggs, would anoint the hostile territory with the Panther Creek water. Yes, it's a little hokey. Yes, it's just something fun. And yes, the Panthers were 15-1 on the road during those three years. Bonus fact: the folks at Woodruff and Chesnee REALLY didn't enjoy the Panther Creek dousing as much as we did.
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