Obviously, there are a lot of correlations between politics and football.
In both, I have been little more than a spectator. I know my limitations, but I admire those who suit up, take the field and are willing to take some hard hits to accomplish their objective.
Today our community celebrates the annual Battle of the Bridge, the longstanding and sometimes intense high school football rivalry between Biddeford High School and Thornton Academy in Saco.
I have lived in both communities. My passport is worn and tattered from so many trips across that bridge.
In so many ways Biddeford and Saco are one community; one regional economic engine. Most of us have family, friends and neighbors on both sides of the Saco River.
But today, we must choose sides. Today, we will be rooting for one team, despite whatever complications come from a dual citizenship or allegiance to Thornton or BHS.
There are some historic overtones associated with today’s game.
In the early 1920s, the Klu Klux Klan organized a rally and march in Saco. While the KKK is better known as belligerent, asinine racists, they also don’t care much for Catholics, especially those foreign Catholics who were working in the mill buildings across the river.
The men in white sheets, which reportedly included the mayor of Saco, gathered near the former Mutual Theater on Main Street in Saco. The old theater was being relocated across the street and its former home was being renovated and soon would become Most Holy Trinity Church.
Although the cowardly protestors planned to march down York Hill and across the bridge into the neighboring city of Biddeford, things did not go exactly as planned.
The dozens of KKK members, garbed in their white sheets, proceeded down York Hill, turning the corner toward the bridge and then suddenly froze in their tracks.
Waiting for them on that bridge was a contingent of Franco-Canadians, Greeks, Albanians and many others who refused to yield. These gritty, working-class men with their cheap clothes, worn shoes and funny accents were accompanied by a couple of pumper trucks from the Biddeford Fire Department, not to mention a contingent of police officers, farmers with pitchforks, fishermen with grappling hooks and dozens of men with steel bars and wooden bats.
Historical accounts are sketchy, but rumors persist that a shotgun or two could be spotted in the crowd of angry mill workers.
There was no bloodshed. No violence. There was only a few seconds of an eerie and lingering silence.
The KKK took a step back, pivoted 180 degrees and wisely marched back up the Hill toward Saco. And that was that.
They never made a second attempt to cross that bridge.
A lingering sense of envy and elitism
That battle of the bridge was a long time ago. Most of those wounds have healed but there is ample evidence to show that event had a lasting impression on both cities.
There is a strange dynamic of envy that still exists in Biddeford. On this side of the river, we too often tend to eat our own and tear down those among us who achieve even a modicum of success.
In Saco, there remains a lingering sense of elitism.
We don’t like to talk about it. We like to believe it is urban legend, an urban myth of bygone days. But it is there.
I recently interviewed Saco Mayor Mark Johnston. I have long admired Mark as a man never afraid to tell you exactly what he is thinking.
Sure, he is a politician. He knows and executes political strategy better than anyone I know. Mark can look you in the eye and say, “I have to raise taxes because it’s the right thing to do for our community,” shake your hand and count on your vote at the ballot box.
Mark acknowledged the air of elitism that exists in his community, but he also talked about his city proudly. He spoke about his neighbors in Biddeford with respect and admiration. He (and so many others) would like to see the cities work more cooperatively to solve mutual concerns and problems.
Today’s football game will be played with dignity, respect and a certain sense of appreciation.
Sure, on both sides of the field, there will be a bit of trash talk, but one team will go home and celebrate and the other will mutter “wait ’til next year” as it leaves the field.
Do it like this, or do it like that
There are two ways to play a football game. A good football game is intense, raw and fiercely competitive. But it is also played by a set of rules, spoken and unspoken.
It’s no different in politics.
In Biddeford, we take our football and politics seriously.
Over the last couple days, as we head into the final stretch of the local campaign season, we have witnessed some distinct differences between the candidates seeking the mayor’s seat in Biddeford.
One candidate has opted to drag my wife and youngest son into the campaign. Another candidate has spent the bulk of the last 24 hours scouring social media to tell the world about a perceived sense of injustice he is enduring and threatening to file a lawsuit against me simply because I am actively supporting one of his opponents.
The third candidate? The one I am supporting? He never talks about his opponents. He is focused like a laser on achieving progress in his community. He is sharing his ideas and enthusiasm and looking forward to the end zone.
If you were to awake from a coma, and have no access to any information except for Alan Casavant’s website or his Facebook page, you would never know he was being opposed. Instead, you would see a man who repeatedly talks about the potential of his community. You would see videos of him discussing the city’s needs and its limitations.
You would see photos and read words that capture his enthusiasm for Biddeford. You would see a positive and professional leader who has proven he can get big things done to help our city move forward.
I do not know who is going to win today’s game, nor do I know whether Mayor Casavant will be successful in his re-election bid.
But I do know that I will be proud today.
LESSONS IN MEDIOCRITY | OUTLAW JOURNALIST 