Mixing it up with Panthers and Bulldogs

When I was growing up in Provo, basketball was king. Baseball came second, and football?

Well, football (yawn) was just something you did to kill time before basketball season started up again.

Of course it was thrilling to watch BYU basketball back in the day when Stan Watts was working his hoops voodoo.

And the old Smith Fieldhouse was a dynamite place to spend a Saturday night with Kresimir Cosic weaving and flapping up the court like the world's biggest stork while dropping the equivalent of Yugoslavian f-bombs.

But it was the high school games I loved best in those late days of winter.

Provo High School was a basketball juggernaut, and whenever state tournament time rolled around, my mom pulled my brothers and me out of school so we could spend the day in Salt Lake City watching the Bulldogs tear it up.

Oh. It. Was. So. Much. Fun!

Like my neighbor Rick says, nothing beats the atmosphere of a high school playoff game.

Anyhoo.

I grew up. Got married. Moved to Salt Lake City. Had a bunch of wild and crazy kids. Sent all of them to their neighborhood schools, including West High.

In fact, there has been an uninterrupted stream of Cannon boys at West High School since the fall of 1995.

And if you follow prep sports, you'll see where this column is headed.

So OK. It's been over a week since Provo High School (my alma mater) took on West High School (my kids' alma mater) for the state 4A title, and don't think we didn't have a heap o' fun in the hours before tip-off.

Or at least I had a heap o' fun, following my kids around the house shouting scary Bulldog chants at them through my megaphone.

When we left for the game (finally!) my husband and I represented with green and white, our kids with red and black.

They sat on one side of the arena. We sat on the other side with childhood friends.

Dude. I am nothing if not loyal. Ask anybody.

So there I was. Wearing green. Surrounded by Bulldogs. But by the time they finished announcing the starting lineups, I was already cheering for West.

Five minutes into the game, the people around me were seriously wishing I had never been born. Yup. I was the fan everyone loves to hate.

Here's the deal. Like any urban public school West High has its problems. ...

And, frankly, some of my kids have done better there than others. But I've always felt like West was a unique place, a special place — primarily because its populations are SO diverse as to render traditional high school social hierarchies meaningless.

Because I am a populist with a big "P" and a democrat with a small "d," I deeply value this kind of environment.

I do love my Bulldogs. But it was gratifying to see the Panthers win and watch the West High community come together to revel in some well-deserved West side pride.

Nice.

e-mail: acannon@desnews.com