T-‘N-T is Dy-No-Mite!

Tahoe Truckee High School Varsity Letter

When is the last time you went to a high school football game? For my sister Betsy, and my practically-sisters Anne and Beatie Thys, you’d have to go back thirty years.

Until last night, that is, when the team from our alma mater, Tahoe Truckee High School, visited the snooty, affluent, suburban mirage of Piedmont, nestled in the hills above Oakland, where we now live. The four of us sat in the visitors’ section of the immaculate Piedmont High School stadium to watch the Truckee Wolverines beat the Piedmont Highlanders 15 -7.

And guess what: it was fun.

The evening evoked alternating waves of mild nostalgia and remind-me-why-people-care-about-this-stuff indifference. It was certainly odd to see kids from Truckee playing in the posh environs of Piedmont – a far cry from the rural towns of the Pioneer League, in which Truckee plays its regular season, and which covers an enormous swath of territory in the Sierra Nevada and Sierra foothills. When I played on the Truckee Varsity Football Team (cornerback, wide receiver, and plenty of bench), we rode for hours-upon-hours to reach such destinations as Greenville, where the football field was tucked into a corner of pasture, the team winning the coin-toss would opt to go downhill in the second and fourth quarters, the announcer sat in a “crow’s nest” atop a telephone pole adjacent to the bleachers, and I actually had my helmet licked by a cow poking her head through the fence as I sat on the visitors bench.

Truckee is no longer the sleepy little mountain town of my youth. It got its first traffic signal two years after I left for college, symbolically giving the green light to unabated growth in the subsequent three decades. I would like to think that the two biggest events of the year in Truckee remain the rodeo (August) and the homecoming parade (October), that locals still get a discount at the gas stations, and that the schools still take “snow days” whenever the bus can’t fetch the kids who live on Donner Summit. But the town has certainly changed from the era when our math teacher also ran the Greyhound bus depot and everyone knew everyone.

Last night, however, hearing the stadium announcer call the names of children of our classmates, we were reminded that the more things change, the more they remain the same.


1 Response to “T-‘N-T is Dy-No-Mite!”

  1. 1 viral 15 September 2007 at 5:28 pm

    nice reflection … indeed, there’s a beauty to reconnecting with the distant past … i remember realizing at some point toward the end of a six month period with several lengthy periods of solitude, that i had probably thought of every single person that i could consciously remember. and then days ago pavi told me about Ko Un, a Korean poet who, while in prison, wrote a poem on every single person he knew: Ten Thousand Lives:


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