You bet-cha, it's time for Homecoming

It's that time of year again for … the bet.

It started innocently enough five years ago when I noticed Sandpoint's school spirit around Homecoming lagged.

There was no Homecoming parade down a main street, merchants didn't push Bulldog pride for the game and the publisher of this paper didn't make a fool out of himself once a year.

Well, I fixed all that.

The Homecoming promotion in the Bee is now huge. Politicians and business leaders now line up to put on Bulldog football helmets and uniforms to pose for ads to root the Bulldogs on to victory. It's now a tradition.

If you think this promotion has grown over the past few years, you are right. There was no Homecoming promotion in the Bee in 1999. Last year it stretched to three pages and this year the sales team is threatening to have four full pages of Bulldog ads.

As the publisher of this paper, a person might think I would be pleased with this obvious and substantial increase every year in school spirit and revenue for this promotion. I am but I'm not. I sound like a politician now don't I? I voted for this promotion before I voted against it.

The downside, for me, with all of this Homecoming hoopla, is the fact that I have lost a bet with the advertising staff every year. Each year I raise the bar and bet them they can't sell more Homecoming ads — and each year they exceed it. This year they have to sell 7 percent more Homecoming ads than last year to win.

If they win, I have to "perform" at Homecoming in a) a hula skirt, b) cheerleader outfit, c) a caveman, or d) whatever their devious minds can conjure up. If they lose, they have to do a 30-yard, can-can dance on the field wearing Bulldog helmets and uniforms. They would also get a free lunch with me at Jalape-os. Don't get too excited, Chet, things aren't looking good.

The only problem is they have never lost and I really can't just stop this bet.

The truth be told, the minute or so of "performing" I am required to do, isn't too bad. It's kind of like a trip to the dentist, mixed with traffic accident and a headache.

The most embarrassing thing really has been showing up at the game in my costume and having grown men laugh at me, kids wanting pictures with me and most people just shaking their heads. And these ads with the photos of me in the paper, ouch.

You just can't walk into the game and sneak away unnoticed when you are a 42-year-old man are wearing a grass skirt and coconuts. I've tried, it's impossible.

I also have this problem with my impressionable nine-year-old son. He has come to the Homecoming game a couple of times with me. At first he thought it was pretty cool, with the "Look, my Dad is dressing up like a girl in front of half the town" but he is getting older.

Last year I noticed he was hanging back from me a few feet. Could therapy be next?

I was so convinced that I might be permanently scarring him, I decided we had better talk before he thought it was normal that his Dad would go to three football games in a row dressed normally only to don a grass skirt and coconuts at the fourth game.

Today at noon is the deadline. So do me a favor would you? If Misty, Angel, Melissa, Lisa or Mary Beth ask you if you want to buy a Homecoming ad, do a Nancy Reagan and "just say no."

My hope — OK, prayer — is that this crack sales team will top last year's number but fall ever-so-short of this year's goal. All I ask is that they have a chance to experience the thrill of a crisp fall night with the cold air blowing up their skirts — much like I have.

Homecoming was a big deal in my hometown of Forsyth, Mont. The pep assemblies were loud and spirited and everyone in town showed for the pep assembly and the game.

One pep assembly skit still sticks in my mind.

Five senior football players — myself included — were asked to come down to the gym floor. As we lined up, five cute cheerleaders lined up about four feet away facing us. As the cheerleader advisor put handkerchiefs over our eyes, she told us that one of the cheerleaders was going to give us each a kiss and we had to guess which one.

Sounded pretty cool. Kissed by a cheerleader in front of the whole student body and then have to guess which one? Does high school get any better than that?

So there we were with the handkerchiefs over our eyes and the student body hooting and hollering. But unbeknownst to us, the cheerleaders stepped aside and our mothers snuck down from the stands. They gave each of their sons a kiss and departed and were replaced in line by the cheerleaders.

The handkerchiefs came off and we were each asked to guess which cheerleader had given us a kiss.

The skit didn't make it past the first football player.

"Bob Beals, which cheerleader gave you a kiss?" the advisor asked. A hush fell over the gym.

"Hmm, I don't really know, all I do know is she has a mustache!" he said. Bedlam erupted.

That's what Homecoming is all about — memories.

Get out and support the home team this week and every week. High school athletics are an awesome spectator sport and a great excuse to get out of the house. The Wampus Cats and the Bulldogs have a bunch of awesome teams this fall and the coaches and players have put in a lot of time to improve

David Keyes is publisher of the Bee and once a year dresses up in a hula skirt with coconuts, all for school spirit.