We Were Working On The Chain Gang

Volunteer sideline duty at a high school football game can take the measure of a Rotarian

Fall brings a fresh season of high school football to north Georgia. Okay, so it's really only August and it's 86 degrees at kickoff time- not exactly the crisp temperatures and colorful fall foliage that are called to mind by the phrase " football weather ".

This year's first home game offered a twist. I volunteered to work the sidelines with the Chain Gang. For years, Dahlonega Sunrise Rotary Club has been providing this support as a service project for our county's only high school.

Typically there are four members of the Chain Gang. Two people hold the poles attached to the chain, marking the exact 10 yard distance needed for a first down. Another member holds the "down" marker, numbering one through four. The fourth person marks ball placement after each first down.

In the pregame moments , I reviewed the protocol with our Chain Gang, two of whom were first- timers. The school color guard will march out to present the colors during the playing of the national anthem. The PA announcer will introduce us to the crowd, and we will then meet the referee who is in charge of our work.

That referee was Quincy, He was pleasantly thorough as he reminded us that there was no cheering for the home team . He picked two guys to hold the chain and he told me to hold the down marker, aka "the box".... and that I was to follow him wherever he went– but only after his signal. He repeated , only AFTER his signal. It seemed important. ​It was important.

With that, the opening kickoff was upon us, and instantly we were off the pace, not having anticipated that the return would go all the way to the home team's 30 yard line. After just two more quick snaps, the visitors scored their first touchdown of the night. There would be many more.

The chain holders were not involved in extra point kicks. But I was summoned by Quincy to maintain my normal spot right behind him with the box. Soon enough, he began simply to refer to me personally as "Box", calling out my new nickname loudly and sometimes frantically, as he kept his eyes locked straight ahead on the field of play.

And so it was that I spent most of the game sprinting along the sideline after each play, then stopping right behind Quincy and peering over his shoulder directly down the line of scrimmage.

I was amazed that despite having his eyes forward, Quincy was somehow able to catch a couple of my oversights.

" Box!", he said in a hoarse whisper. "It's THIRD down!"​

I looked up meekly to confirm that I had not yet switched from second down, and quickly made the correction. Fortunately for me ( but not for the home team), the game was not close, so this little error had no untoward effect. The home team was down 20-0 at the half, and it could have been worse.

And it was while I was daydreaming about football strategy that I inadvertently violated Quincy's earlier instruction. Following yet another long play, I had hurried down the sidelines toward the new line of scrimmage. Quincy quickly waved me back, saying,

" Not yet, BOX! Go back. There's a penalty!"

I hurried back to my former spot (approximately), with a new understanding of why I had been instructed to hold my place until being beckoned forward. Namely, if the penalty was to be assessed from the previous spot, it would be helpful to know where that spot was. I felt relief when the penalty was declined.

Once fully cleared for takeoff, I hurried back down to my usual station, directly behind him as he straddled the 15 yard line, his eyes locked forward as always.

"Box! It's FIRST down, Box, " said Quincy.

Looking up I saw that I had again left the number unturned. I couldn't help but ask," How can you see that when you're looking straight ahead?"

He responded only by tapping his earpiece and pointing up at the press box. Ahhh...the gentlemen across the field up in the press box were alerting him to my miscue(s). That was humbling at a new level.

The lopsided game lunched along, as the visitors steadily added to their lead. Since our Chain Gang was stationed on the visitors' sideline, there was a happy vibe in our midst. The team members from out-of- town were certainly having a fine time.

Soon after the home team finally scored, the game was over. Final score: 54-7 in favor of the visitors. I personally had rallied in the second half with a cleaner body of work. My grade of my own performance would have been C -/ needs improvement.

On the bright side, our new members, Bill and David , were now veterans of the Chain Gang. And on this night, in a small town in north Georgia, a group of Rotarians had provided a service contribution to a notable public event. Satisfying.

And as we parted ways, Quincy made one last comment. With his big smile and a fist bump, he said; " Nice work, Box!".

He certainly seemed sincere. Clearly he was a generous grader. Either way, I'll take it.

This Chain Gang thing, it's really a pretty good gig.

When's the next home game?

Patrick Conarro