An emotional night of football for Marysville Pilchuck

MARYSVILLE — I’ve been to more football games at Quil Ceda Stadium than I can count.

Friday night’s was different.

It was different than when I was a Marysville Pilchuck student going to high school games in the mid-2000s. It was different than when I covered the very first Berry Bowl for The Herald. It was different than a state playoff game against Eastside Catholic last year.

In the wake of a tragic shooting, it was just weird being on the sideline for Marysville Pilchuck’s Wesco 3A championship game against Meadowdale.

Leave it to the football coach to bring me back to earth.

“The game has obviously been bigger, based on what happened around our community,” said Marysville Pilchuck head coach Brandon Carson. “But at the end of the day it’s still the same game we played in Week 1 and Week 2. Hey, let’s play football!”

I wasn’t the only one at a packed Quil Ceda Stadium, which was well over its capacity of 3,800. The Marysville Pilchuck student section was stuffed to the brim, and the Tomahawks were holding roses given to them by Meadowdale’s cheerleaders.

One of the emergency medical technicians, posted by the ambulance near the field, stood there in a Marysville Pilchuck letterman’s jacket. The adjacent fire truck had a sign that said “MPHS Strong” laced across the ladder.

“This is Marysville,” said Marysville mayor Jon Nehring. “It’s so inspirational to see the community come out and support these kids that have been through so much and to support one another. As mayor, I couldn’t be prouder. … As a member of this community I couldn’t be prouder. It’s a big night. I think this is a real step forward for our community, this event tonight.

“It’s amazing what sports can do.”

It’s incredible driving through my hometown right now. There are signs and red and white ribbons along most roads in the city.

Seemingly, everyone I’ve ever seen, talked to or met in Marysville was at the game, including some of my friends from the Class of 2007.

Walking around, I overheard more “I wasn’t going to come buts” than I could count.

Even my mom, who works in the health room at Marysville Pilchuck, decided to come out to the game for the first time since she can remember.

“It’s about damn time, huh?” She figured.

It was a surreal game. I lost track of the number of times I got goose bumps by the end of the first quarter.

Marysville Pilchuck took an early lead and by the second quarter the fans were back in midseason form, booing a call by the referees that they didn’t agree with.

As were the Tomahawks, who were running out to a 34-13 halftime lead as Carson was jumping around the sideline with his players.

“I don’t know what to expect,” Carson said before the game. “At the end of the night, it’s a football game. I know that people are supporting us and we really appreciate that. It’s something we’ll remember the rest of our lives.”

Obviously, I had to buy a “Tomahawks strong” sweatshirt. But I didn’t put it on because, as a journalist, I wanted to try to keep a hint of objectivity.

At least I tried not to. In the end I caved. Because it was cold outside.

That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

I spent part of the third quarter sitting in the stands with my best friend, also a former Tomahawk, her boyfriend, my girlfriend and my mother. To be honest, it was hard to focus on the game. It’s amazing that the football players were able to.

Carson wasn’t worried that would be a problem.

“It’s been a long time since we played and there’s been a lot that’s happened in between since the last time we played,” Carson said. “The kids are chomping at the bit. It’s been a long, long time since they played.”

Friday night, while built around a championship football game, was about so much more than sports. It was about healing. It was about coming together. It was about the cheering and screaming throughout the stands that began before the game even started.

It was about the community, which, like myself, really could’ve used a win.

Thanks to the Tomahawks for providing it.