Matthew Burnette, Staff Writer

Sports have never really been my forte.

I don’t ever make it a point to sit down and watch a ball game unless forced to when outnumbered by a larger more interested party on occasions like holidays.

I’ve attended a couple of NASCAR races at the Nashville Superspeedway since they started having races there again in 2021, but those were, again, mostly in the company of someone way more interested in the intricacies and strategies that go into the event.

During a five- or so-year span from kindergarten to the fifth grade, I played youth league baseball. I was never the star athlete on any of the teams, but unlike other kids my age who would prefer to pick the grass in the field or play with the dirt, I at least enjoyed the game.

That is until I started getting older. It seemed like as the game became more difficult, I became less interested until it got to a point where I spent most of the time, rightly, on the bench.

When I was tasked with attending the 100th Coffee Pot game and taking photos, I didn’t really know what to expect.

Needless to say, I was incredibly impressed with a lot of what I saw.

Coming from a smaller high school like Cannon County, I was blown away at the jumbotron that not only kept score but was able to show video. The one where I come from doesn’t do that.

The field itself was well-maintained, and I found myself in awe of the entire experience walking in. It felt as though I was making my way into a sporting event put on at a much higher level than high school football.

One thing that didn’t surprise me, though, was the crowd that showed up to support both teams.

There was a lot of buildup to the game being the 100^th time Coffee County’s Red Raiders were coming head-to-head with Tullahoma’s Wildcats. The crowd was excited, and there was a buzz in the air as everyone waited to see who would come out victorious.

But even when it’s not such a monumental game, it’s not a big surprise to see a large crowd at a high school ball game. High school sports are something that southerners not only seem to do really well but also take a lot of pride in.

Even at my smaller alma mater, there’s a large and enthusiastic crowd that shows up every week to cheer on the football team whether they’re on a hot streak or maybe not having their best season.

That’s why I was rather taken aback by what I witnessed towards the end of the game.

Around the third quarter, as Tullahoma seemed to slowly grow their lead that they would sustain until the end of the game to eventually hoist the trophy, I noticed large chunks of the crowd getting up to go to their cars and leave.

While you could easily say that the writing was on the wall at the point, and it was pretty obvious how the game was going to end, part of me wonders what that looks like to the kids on the field playing.

Sure, there’s some arguments to be made for wanting to beat the traffic that’s inevitable as the crowd departs the field, and maybe there are obligations that could be tended to earlier than expected.

But if your argument is that there is no reason to stay when you already know what’s going to happen, my counterpoint would be that there is.  

The kids on the field put in a lot of work to be there. Countless hours of practice on top of any schoolwork that they have to get done. Trying to keep themselves healthy and conditioned to maintain their position on the team.

Do we really want the message that we send to be that we’re only willing to hang around if they’re winning?

I can understand leaving early when you’re at a one-sided game that’s being attended by thousands of people watching athletes who are getting paid millions of dollars, but when it’s your local team playing their hearts out, shouldn’t it be worth the extra time in traffic to see things through until the end to let them know you support them regardless?

Sporting events aren’t my thing, but I’ve been to my and probably a couple of other people’s fair share of concerts, and it always baffles me when people get up and leave before it’s over.

The same arguments apply: traffic, it’s getting late, I have things to do, but it never made sense to me to not see something through until the very end. It would be like if I stopped writing this column at this exact point…

Sure, many of you would probably be okay with that, but it just wouldn’t feel right, at least on my end.

I can’t speak from the perspective of anyone that was on the field playing that night because they were in a situation like none that I’ve ever been involved in. Maybe they get so into the game and focused that it doesn’t even register what the crowd looks like.

Anyone that has any insight into that, please feel free to let me know at mburnette@manchestertimes.com.

And to be fair, the majority of the crowd did stay.

There’s still a part of me that wonders if after a tough loss and a hard-fought effort, it wouldn’t feel maybe even just slightly better to look up and see that the entirety of the crowd stuck around to cheer you on, win or lose.