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Other Voices: Pleasantly surprised at awards banquet

Friday afternoon – a weekend of football playoffs and I’m looking forward to Friday evening and some relaxation. Then my wife drops the news – “We’re committed to going to the Nevada Union Football Awards Banquet.” I gag!

All right, I did write a letter to The Union earlier in the year praising the team and how enjoyable they were to watch. I want to watch them play; I don’t want to sit through a long, drawn-out, boring awards ceremony.

I may have grown up in Grass Valley, but I went away to college. I lived in Atherton. I am cool and sophisticated. I don’t buy into this Miner Magic stuff. I’d rather stay home, watch Fox TV, and hear the latest thing President Obama is doing to my Medicare and country.



My wife said I was going. I arrived at the party …

Wow! Was I surprised!




Anyone who has had to listen to me for more than three or four minutes knows that I am no fan of the local high schools’ wing-T offense. I am, however, a big fan of Dave Humphers.

A very good argument can be made that, subject to the socioeconomic and ethnic make up of our community, Nevada Union has the best public high school football program in the state of California.

Dave Humphers would have been a success no matter what career path he had chosen. No one works harder and is more dedicated. If he had become a Wall Street investment banker, our president would be after his end-of-the-year bonus instead of protecting his Cadillac health plan.

Mr. Humphers kept the program moving. The players who spoke extemporaneously were awesome. They love their God, their families, their coaches and their teammates – and they’re funny!

The only downer the whole evening – it was Mrs. Humphers’ birthday. The coach had his team sing “Happy Birthday.” They can play football, but they can’t sing. It was the worst rendition I have ever heard.

The Daggett family can rest easy. Doreen should insist that she be taken to New York – see what her life could have been at $10 million a year.

In summation, next year get to the awards banquet. Especially if you’re a Baby Boomer, like me.

Let go of “Barry” and what he’s doing to us for the night and experience up-close the generation that is going to be caring for us. It will make you feel infinitely better. Maybe there is something to this Miner Magic thing.

John Paye lives in Nevada City.


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