Image courtesy of Milton Academy Flikr
By MIKHAIL DMITRIENKO ‘21
The first Milton football game I attended as a new student was when the Mustangs faced Belmont Hill in late October. I remember being criminally underdressed for the Massachusetts fall and was kicking myself for not buying merch to proudly rep my new school. At the time, our record was 5-0, so I expected the seats around Stokinger to be packed with students anticipating another blow-out. When I arrived, however, I found that only a small percentage of attendees were students. The rest of the spectators were players’ parents, who filled the silence between snaps with polite small talk and pleasantries. After about half-an-hour of frigid spectatorship, I walked back to Norris with an air of sentimentality. Although I had gone out of my way to support my team, I felt ashamed that I wasn’t as proud to be a Milton student as I anticipated. I remembered how, at my old school, I would leave sports games feeling proud to identify with my school’s mascot, ironically also the “Mustang,” and would look forward to the excitement of the next home games in coming weeks. Sadly, that crisp October afternoon, I couldn’t say the same about my new school.
Although many may consider schools in the Midwest to be academically deficient in comparison to those in the Northeast or West Coast, one area in which the humble highschools of the Heartland reign supreme over the elite institutions of the Atlantic Seaboard is in building community. Back in Kansas, the most popular social event in the fall was attending the school's football game. Granted, the school district I attended had a fairly large sports complex that could hold about two thousand people, but it wasn't the impressive stadium that was bringing all the students; it was the atmosphere. Cheering on your team and eating cheap nachos while being sandwiched between your two best friends was the most fun you could have in the frost of late autumn. To get everyone riled up, our school had a pep band that blasted frisson-producing tunes like “Seven Nation Army” and “Paint it Black” on their horns backed by the pounding of the drumline. This Friday night experience wasn’t just isolated to the fall season, however; in the winter, students filled the gym to watch our basketball teams. At the beginning of each game, the band played a cadence to introduce the players as they walked onto the court and the drumline did a rimshot every time a player on our team sank a three. However, what I am most nostalgic about regarding these games was the fact that students of all grades and backgrounds flocked to them in large numbers to support their friends.
Ask any Milton student-athlete, and they’ll tell you they wish more people showed up to their games. At a school with such impressive athletic amenities and a boarding student body that claims it has “nothing to do on the weekends,” it's a shame that athletes don’t get the support they deserve. We don’t have to go so far as to assemble a pep band, (although it’s not unthinkable; Hotchkiss and Andover occasionally gather a small group of students to play at their games) but making a regular tradition of going to games goes a long way in creating a sense of community. Next time you’re stuck in the dorm on a weekend, consider calling up your friends to go to a game. It doesn’t matter if your friends don’t play on the team or if you don’t even know the rules; it’s being there for your fellow Mustangs that counts.