On Monday night I traveled to Harrison County rival Corydon Central High School to take in the JV Football game between the Corydon Central Panthers and the visiting North Harrison Cougars. A few of the students in my English classroom day to day play for NH. I enjoy watching them go at it.
This was the first time I had a chance to lay my eyes on the Corydon’s new artificial turf on their football field. Mr. Martin was right all those years ago in 7th grade geography class. He said, “Change is a constant feature.”
When I show up at the local high school stadiums to take in a game, I brush away the cobwebs and often harken back to sights and sounds that travel all the way back to my earliest memories when I was attending games my dad coached in the 1970s and 80s. At Corydon, I looked at the nice new scoreboard sitting above turns 3 and 4 of the west side of the track. I thought about one I had seen there when I was a child, though I am convinced it was on the other end of the field. That old scoreboard didn’t have a clock with digital numbers on it. It had a circle resembling a clock that kept time in some fashion that I am not even certain of. Even timepieces can do funny things.
Last night’s game was a close one. The Cougars ran out of time. The Panthers won out 14-8, erasing an 8-0 advantage the Cougars held at halftime. The boys played hard. I was proud of them. As I looked on, I could hear and see so many memories, both good and bad, from many years ago.
In 1981, as an 8th grader playing right guard next to my friend and center Mick Rutherford. The first play from scrimmage was a 2-hole quick to Russ Keith. Mick and I came off the ball, made a hole, hit the ground, looked up, and saw the back of Russ’ jersey running all 66 yards to paydirt. The final score was North Harrison 8 Corydon Central 0. Mick and I are still great friends to this day. We lost Russ to cancer many years ago.
In 1982, as a freshman JV player, I was on the sidelines watching and rooting on a 7-1 North Harrison team in its 5th varsity season against a 3-5 Corydon Central team. We ran the wishbone offense that year. In the first quarter, our quarterback broke his hand. We lost 36-28. That was difficult.
Fastforward. It is 1990, five years after my dad was coach. At the June North Harrison school board meeting, I got up and spoke up. Not approving of the pathetic support that was being given to the football program, I aired my grievance. Mind you, I didn’t say anything I would not have said in front of my mother or a Sunday School class. In a short time, I learned that free speech can certainly come with a high price. In 1991, North Harrison hired a new football coach. Not long after he was no longer the football coach, he and I were on a field trip together with our sons to the Louisville Zoo in the spring of 1998. He told me when he was hired by NH in 1991, he asked about assistant coaches and was told he could hire anyone except one person. You guessed it. I don’t regret it. Standing up and defending kids needing a voice was a sword I had to fall on. I still feel that way.
When the 1992 high school football season came around, I was on the sidelines again. This time I was a Corydon Central Panther. I distinctly remember playing North Harrison that year. It was 0-0 at halftime on a beautiful autumn night. I was the special teams coach and had a ball showing youngsters how to swing their legs to the fullest. When the second half got under way, Billy Powell intercepted a pass from his linebacker spot and returned it for a TD. Our sideline erupted. During that week of practice, though it was not about me, players came up to me to stick a finger in my chest and tell me they were going to win this one for me. I told them to just go win it. Of course, I appreciated the gesture. When Billy hit the end zone, our sideline went berserk. Guys were on the field rolling around like Curly of the Three Stooges. I was celebrating. Our whole team was on the field soaking up the moment. When revelry went on longer than the ref thought it should, he threw a flag. 15 more yards! Hooooo-ray! That means a 35 yard extra point and that will be an even nicer exclamation point. I was good with it. I was great with it. Reminded me of the night in 1985 when I was kicking PATs with a square-toed shoe that I had to change into while I was playing center. One night this endeavor was taking a while. The ref came over to me. “Hustle up 56, you’re short on time.” I looked over at him and said, “Just go ahead and throw it.” He did and moved us five yards back. I suppose he could have moved us 15 yards back had he wanted. Was the kick good? Yes. It hit the track. I looked at the ref and gave him a thumbs up. He just shook his head and chuckled.
Jason Becker’s 35-yard extra-point that night would have been good from 50. It nearly disappeared into the night sky. Jason would kick two more PATs that night and the final score was Corydon Central 21 North Harrison 0. The first shout-out in the Big Cat Classic since 1985 when I was a player for the team we beat that night. Oh what a night.
In 1993, in addition to being the special teams coach, I was the sole JV coach. I would continue with these two roles in 1994. We won two games during those two years and they were nice bookmarks. The first victory was a 26-0 win over the Brownstown Central Braves, the school of my childhood, in 1993 in the first game of the season. The last game of 1994 was a win over the North Harrison Cougars 18-0. I was given the soak the coach treatment after the game. Both of these games were played at Corydon. That was just fine with me.
The 1994 team came to life again Monday night as I sat there watching. I thought about moments and players and plays I have not thought about in many years. I loved calling offensive plays. We had one play called “The Root Pass”. The center snapped the ball between the quarterback’s legs to the running back lined up behind the quarterback and the running back passed the ball. The last line I yelled to the center before we ran this play was, “Don’t hit the quarterback in the root!” Those kids loved this stuff.
Another play was “The Herky Jerky Turkey”. Casey Helm was the tight end on the left side of the line. He ran up-field about 7 yards and did a Dan Ross misdirection move turning 270 degrees and sprinting across the field to our offensive right. The quarterback faked a pitch left to the running back filling to block the spot Casey had vacated. Kevin Rice, the quarterback, rolled to his right after the toss fake and when it worked well, he’d hit Casey dragging across the middle and that boy had sure hands. When we hit that pass, I made a fist pump that Lane Kiffin had to of copied.
That 1994 team is the team I called “The Magnificent 13”. When we had 11 on the field, there were two standing next to me. I did everything I could to make this fun for these guys. They played their butts off for me. I knew it then and I appreciate it now. I often wore Moody Blues T-Shirts to practice, and the guys called me “Coach Moody”. A month or so ago, I was picking up a to go order at the Beef “O’ Brady’s in Corydon; I heard a voice yell out, “Moody!” It was a former player. I had to ask his first name. I filled in the rest, and we shared a great moment.
Last story. One of the “Magnificent 13” was a wide receiver I called “Peanut”. Peanut Corbett, if memory serves. He was no bigger than a minute and a bit portly for a wide out. One day he couldn’t catch a cold naked in the North Pole. I said, well…I yelled “Peanut! Get over here!” Our helmets were gold. I told him to turn around, as all the guys were standing around us. I began to rub and stare at the back of his helmet. “Peanut…Peanut…the great golden ball is giving me a vision…what is this? Peanut wearing #62 and playing guard in the next game? Could it be…” He pleaded with me, “No, Coach. Give me another pass.” We ran a skinny post to him; he held onto the ball, and he smiled at me.
After the 1994 season, there was a head coaching change at Corydon Central. I never coached at Corydon again. Or anywhere else for that matter.
In subsequent years I interviewed for the head football coaching position at North Harrison on two occasions. I never had a chance either time, no matter what I could bring.
On this Monday night in 2025, it was great to go back and just sit there in silence and relive so many good times and rue over so many missed opportunities. That’s life. I have had a good one.