Hillsdale 42, Windham 14
Valhalla.
In Norse mythology, it was the well-earned resting place of warriors who have suffered the final defeat on the battlefield.
But those ancient poets of Scandinavia could not have imagined that the road to Valhalla was a dark, cold trip through Ohio’s rolling Amish hills, leaving behind the splendor and sadness of a war against a foe doing battle in its own land.
It was a result almost foretold by the sages of the Ohio High School Athletic Association. Pit a battle-tested but weakened team against the number three ranked team in Division 7, and the results are almost guaranteed to be painful to watch.
On a clear night where every star watched, the bravest team on the field went down fighting.
From the moment the Hillside Falcons flew from their locker room to the deafening sounds of AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck,” surging over the sunken Jeromesville stadium like a swarm of angry wasps, a palpable air of impending doom swept over the large Windham crowd, late arriving on a fan bus after an hour and a half trip.
The Hillsdale team was immense. Nearly every boy in the school must have been on the team, because in a division where coaches dream of having 30 players, there were over 50 Falcons in their dark regalia.
On the Bomber sideline, one hulking figure was missing. Brandon Petrich, the solid rock of the line who had dominated the Salineville Southern game the week before, was physically unable to play.
But Windham still had two potential All-State runners in its backfield, Carlos Bruton and Jack Eye. If the Bomber blockers came through as they had in the past eleven games, it might equalize the stunning passing stats of Kael Lewis to his trio of McFadden, Sloane, and Young.
McFadden, Sloane, and Young. Not a law firm yet destined to bring judgment to the Windham Bombers.
Hillsdale won the toss and deferred, choosing instead to squib the kickoff rather than risking a runback by the sterling Bomber duo.
Quarterback Dylan McCune assumed his customary position under Jacob Cody, and the first series of runs were almost a prophecy of the future.
Carlos for one. Jack for one. A direct snap to Carlos for 5. Stymied short of midfield, the Bombers were forced to punt.
And if a kick could be bottled and preserved in the Windham trophy case, it would be this one.
A booming launch off the right foot of Jack Eye reached a zenith near the field lights, and when it came to rest, it was on the Hillside one yard line.
And then the Falcons demonstrated why they awed the poll voters from the Associated Press.
Dropping back to within inches of the back line, Kael Lewis launched an aerial of such stunning precision that McFadden did not even need to extend his arms fully at the 40 for the pigskin to nestle home.
Thirteen seconds and 99 yards later, Hillsdale had scored the first of a horrendous number of sword thrusts into the heart of the Bombers.
After a repeat roller of a kickoff, Hillsdale demonstrated why this was going to be their night. A Jack Eye first down was followed by several runs squelched by the whip-fast Falcon line. Hoping a pass would open things up, Dylan McCune discovered why the Hillsdale defense seldom allowed more than a touchdown or two during its games.
The interception was just one of four, more thefts in a single game than Dylan had suffered the entire season.
Hillsdale took less than two minutes to move 50 yards, relying mainly on screen passes and bold tosses over the middle. Bomber tacklers clung like Saran Wrap to the runners’ legs, refusing to give up, but the Falcons advanced inexorably to the goal.
Jack Eye coughed up the ball on the next drive, and Hillsdale took exactly six seconds off the clock on the next Lewis to McFadden touchdown.
The Falcons booted the ensuing kickoff long, daring Jack Eye to venture into their lair. He did. Head down, he powered his way to the Bombers 48, but, as before, plays that had worked all year against mortal teams did not work against what was perhaps the most powerful team a Windham squad had ever encountered.
A Bomber interception, another Falcon touchdown, and before the end of the first quarter, a 29-0 score blazed out in the cold night.
The second quarter was highlighted only by a stunning fake punt on a fourth and 24 deep in Hillsdale territory. Jack Eye swept toward the visitor’s stands with grim determination, and by less than a yard, demonstrated that there was still courage and grit in this senior’s body.
But it was just one of the few highlights. Penalties, fumbles, interceptions: words not in the Windham lexicon piled up, until the scoreboard read 36-0 at the end of the half.
The Mercy Rule starts at 35 points. And the salt in the wound was the Hillsdale P.A. announcer solemnly intoning the OHSAA rules for a running clock in the second half. Thankfully, Windham was still in the locker room and did not have to endure the ignominy.
Windham would not win. That much was clear. But HOW would they lose? This writer has seen with his own eyes a former Windham team that embarrassed itself by quitting in the second half of a blowout playoff game.
What kind of team would Jake Eye present in the sadness of a running clock? Would they honor the long tradition of outmanned Bombers teams who would not quit?
They would.
Hillsdale took the second half kickoff, sending their entire first team back on the field. Perhaps they believed that doubling the score would impress their next game opponent.
Well, damn them for trying to humiliate Windham. The score rose to 43-0.
But for the final half of their epic season, the Windham Bombers shook the spikes of the Hillsdale Falcons from their neck and wrote their way into history.
Jack Eye seemed to know he was running for posterity, so that every Bomber player in the future would see that courage in the face of hopeless odds can inspire an entire team.
And Carlos Bruton, whose name will become a synonym for acceleration and speed, joined him in saying to Hillsdale, “Not tonight.”
“We may lose, but you will know we were here, unafraid. We give no quarter and ask none.”
After a stunning reverse flip from Jack, Carlos stood in the end zone, and the score ticked to 43-6.
And the clock still ran.
Another Hillsdale stop gave the ball to the Bombers one last time. There would be no game next Friday night. But there was one thing they could attain in these waning seconds: honor.
As the seconds ticked away for this season of wonder, Carlos Bruton, for the last time, tucked the ball into his arms, reached out in a Heisman pose, and then jetted his way 45 yards for a second touchdown.
43-14. A 29-point margin. In the final moments of the year, Windham had broken the chains of the Mercy Rule, perhaps the rarest feat for a defeated team to accomplish.
That, perhaps, will be the legacy of this team. I have no hesitation in saying it is the finest Bomber team of this century. They may even be the equal of any champion fielded by such legendary Windham coaches as Deane Eberwine, Leo Kot, Stan Parrish, Jim Burner, and Joe Baum.
When I think of them in the future, I will remember them one way: they were a team that made Windham proud.
Thank you, Coach Eye. Thank you, men. You will not be forgotten.
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