Four school buses rolled up. A cheer erupted, even though it was not clear who was on the bus. It was the band. When the buses stopped and the doors swung open, a swarm of saxophones and trombones was released. The tubas ducked out playing the notes of the school's victory song. "I'm so glad," sang everyone, "that I wear blue and gold."
About 200 students waited to greet the team inside the school's palm-tree-and-concrete courtyard. Blue-shirted janitors watched from an alcove as two boys broke into a rap about the upcoming trip to Gainesville. When the players began trickling in, marching single file down a bone-color hallway on their way to the locker room, they were mobbed by their peers. Five boys jumped on a linebacker. Eight more surrounded a guard, then a safety, and on down an assembly line of baby-faced athletes, all of whom reeked of dirt and sweat. Allynson Sheffield received the loudest greeting. "There he go!" the crowd chanted. "There he go! There he go!"
After showering and changing the players stepped outside to a modest huddle of boosters. Players shared a platter of ham sandwiches purchased from Sam's supermarket. "I'll take one of those," said coach Billy Rolle as he moved toward the food. He held a can of grape soda in his hand. "I've never seen a game like that in my life," he said. "Never ever. What can I say about it? Maybe only that it takes a little bit of luck to win a championship."
A week later the Bulls played Bradenton Southeast for the state title in Gainesville. They won almost effortlessly, 28-0.
As Rolle and his team celebrated their state title, Northwestern's second in four years, Jake Caldwell grappled with fallout from the Soul Bowl II loss. The resignation of his head coach may have been popular with the alumni, but it was opposed, and quite publicly, by the players. Backup quarterback Ronnie Jones, whose fumble had cost his team the win, noted, "He was the best coach we ever had. Before he got here, we was nothing." Starting quarterback King Hall added, "Coach Redmond didn't lose the game. It was a mistake [by Jones]. Mistakes happen."
Caldwell has weathered the storm thus far. He is not, after all, new to controversy.
Nor is he blind to the upside of Jackson's historic loss. Like any promoter, he knows that drama, especially heartbreaking drama, is fodder for the hype machine. People will be talking about this Soul Bowl for years to come, he predicts. The anticipation for next year's contest is already strong. The game will practically sell itself.
Isn't it good, then, that Jackson lost?
"I don't know about that," Caldwell responds pensively. "I don't think losing is ever a good thing.
