Be True To Your School

The wholesomeness, coupled with the quality of play, makes the tournament's appeal universal—or at least intercontinental. There are eight or nine fans who come from Sweden every year. (When tiny but storied Roseau High, a tournament darling, didn't get out of its sectional, the Swedes were so disappointed, you would have thought somebody had overcooked their meatballs.) Says Tim Schroeder, a 59-year-old physician's assistant and native Minnesotan who lives five hours away in Dubuque, Iowa, but takes vacation annually to attend the event, "If you like hockey, it's the best you'll ever see. Better than colleges or pros. The Wild is boring compared to high schools."

You might have missed it, but last Saturday's final will never be forgotten by the players and their towns. Leddy went coast-to-coast and snapped in an NHL-heavy 35-foot wrist shot, and Eden Prairie won its first championship, 3--0. Moorhead players were disconsolate, but the news that a celebration was scheduled for them back home the next day should have lightened their moods. "Little kids are asking us for our [broken] sticks and our autographs all the time," says Trent Johnson, Moorhead's 18-year-old captain. "They look up to us." Johnson is 5'4".

Future Spuds don't have to raise their gazes too high to see a reflection of themselves. Like the Edina seniors who gambled and lost a state championship but won everything else, the Moorhead players are a template for the valor and value of youth sports in a nation where kids' fun and games have lost their way.

America, these Spuds are for you.

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