Massillon Plays for the Ring

I don’t remember the first time I walked into Paul Brown Tiger Stadium. I was just a kid. It was the seventies. I have no idea what game it was, who won, or how old I was. But I do know where I sat. Section 14. Row S. Seat 4. How can I know that if I don’t know where or when the game was and I was just a little kid? Because I have never sat in any other row. My father became a Massillon Tigers season ticket holder in the sixties and he always sat in Section 14. Row S. Seat 1. My mother in Seat 2. My brother in Seat 3. And eventually, when I was old enough, I parked in Seat 4. I didn’t understand what was going on in the game, but I loved seeing the real Tiger in the cage, I loved hearing the band, I loved watching the adults around me get excited. When they stood up and cheered, I stood up and cheered. I always brought my binoculars with me, not so I could see the game better, but so I could pretend I was a cameraman who was filming the game for television. I always wanted to be a part of the Tigers in some way. For me, it was to pretend I was covering the game for ABC sports.

The occupants of those four seats can basically tell the story of the ups and downs of the Ryan family tree. Who was in the family and who was out. Who was healthy or not. So many people rotated around those seats. Children created children and they took seats, bringing friends and lovers. Other people have photo albums, in Massillon; you have ticket stubs. (Well, you used to, now you have some stupid thing on your phone that may or may not scan. Who misses the orange playoff ticket? Anyone? I’ve gotten off track.) The point is the occupants of those seats may not remain a constant in my life, but the Tigers always have. There isn’t one person still sitting in any of the adjacent seats who were there when I was going to the games as a kid. They have all either passed away or gave up the dream. But I’m still there, still believing in the goal. It’s always been the Tigers. Currence, Maronto, Owens, Rose, Shephas, Stacy, Hall, and now, Nate Moore. All the head coaches during my time. At least that is a higher number than the numbers of wives that have sat with me at the games.

While I may not remember every game I saw, I sure remember the 100th Massillon-McKinley game. Of course, I remember Moeller’s Hail Mary pass and their last second win. I remember crying. I recently told Becca Moore this story about crying when we lost that game. I looked up the game to see how old I was since I cried. I figured I was 10. Oops, I was 22. I know there is no crying in baseball, but did Tom Hanks ever weigh in on football? I remember that time we scored over 100 points and somehow Massillon got in trouble for that. One thing that has never changed is how the media covers Massillon. There is no accomplishment that can’t be held against us in a court of words.

I vividly remember when St. Ignatius scored 35 points right away in what has to be the worst beating Massillon ever took in an opening quarter. I remember it more than any other game because it was the last game that my dad sat in those seats with me. He was gone by the next game. In Massillon, losing a parent means the transfer of the tickets. What was his became mine and someday what is mine will become my son’s. It was strange to see the first game without my dad. And it was heartbreaking that he never got to see Massillon win a playoff regulation State Championship. We got to watch the 1982 and 2005 state championship game together, but we didn’t see a win. Even with all the years of him being gone, I have still held on to his hope of Massillon winning one on the field as diligently as I have held onto his season tickets. Section 14. Row S. Seats 1-4. This Thursday a trigeneration wish can come true. My father to me to my son. The Massillon Tigers are playing for a state championship and this time, they are favored to win.

So it’s true that I didn’t have a choice in going to the Massillon games when I was a little kid, I’ve certainly, actively, chosen to go since 1988 when I was officially an adult. I went to the games when I lived in Massillon, went to the games when I lived in Columbus and now I stream the games from Florida. Last year I drove from Florida to see Hoban beat Massillon in the State Semi’s. Then drove back the next day. That is dedication. Actually that is stupidity, it was Thanksgiving weekend and traffic was horrible. We ended the season on a loss last year, exactly as we have done each and every year that I have gone to the games. It always hurts. Your hopes are so damn high and then it is pulled away from you like a magician pulling a tablecloth off a perfectly set table. Except that all the dishes break and the candelabra sets the whole damn world on fire. It hurt each time a Catholic school ended our season in the State Championship games of 2018, 2019 and 2020. It hurts every time that clock hits zero and the season is over. Each time I swear I won’t get sucked into the dream again. Then, next season happens and I’m back watching everyone shake their heads when I say, “I swear I’ll only have a sip.” I can’t just have a sip, I want the whole bottle.

In each of those years, I have never let my imagination go to that moment of the clock ticking down with a win. Not only have we never won the championship on the field, we’ve never won it in my mind. Let’s imagine there is a State Championship game and it’s the fourth quarter and Massillon is up by three scores and there is only a minute left. The clock goes 10, 9, 8, and by it hits 7, my mind shuns the thought away. I don’t know what I would do if we won. I don’t even know how to imagine it. How do you imagine something that you have never experienced and you’ve waited 53 years for? I do know that it won’t really change anything. My dad won’t know we won. People who hate Massillon will still hate Massillon. The town will still want to beat McKinley in 2024 and go undefeated again. Nothing will change. And also: everything will change. 10, 9, 8, 7 … NO! Not yet. In 5 days.

For the past two years I have been able to host a weekly series called Tiger Talk. I get to interview head coach of the Massillon Tigers Nate Moore and two players every week with my dear friend and co-host Becca Moore. Becca doesn’t understand the kindness she has given me by agreeing to do this show. She has welcomed me into the Tiger’s inner circle. Nate and her have trusted me to do skits, ask silly questions, and shine a positive light on everything I love about being a Massillon Tiger fan. That little kid who used to bring his binoculars to every game, wishing to be a part of the Tigers, now doesn’t have to pretend anymore. I am hosting a show about it. My dad never got to watch the show, but my Mom, my son, my wife, and my Aunt get to. The score is all about winning, but the game is all about family. The Tigers will try to win for my family and all the families that are just like mine. So what will winning be like? How can I know? It’s never happened before. One thing I do know, I won’t be able to take just a sip of that feeling of finally winning after 53 years. I will drink down the whole experience. Then I will return to Section 14. Row S. Seat 1.

Go Tigers. Beat Hoban.

Watch Tiger Talk this week for a preview of the Massillon/Hoban game. Subscribe here

Read about the Massillon Tiger’s 2019 State Championship run in the book: 15 for 15.