During a P.E. class a long, long time ago, a future sportswriter shot arrows here, there and everywhere before finally hitting the target.
He beamed.
His Roosevelt High School classmates were bemused. “T’row party!” a classmate sarcastically chortled.
It was the 1970s, and that’s how kids mocked someone who thought he accomplished something that was not much of an accomplishment at all.
There will be a day when government leaders will be oh-so-proud of themselves when they announce the double-secret target markers have been met and the University of Hawaii will be allowed to serve as host to fan-attended sporting events.
And we should all say: “Oooh … t’row party!”
Whenever things reopen, and it could be a while more, it will be too late.
It has been well documented that UH offered a plan to admit fans who were fully vaccinated, masked and socially distanced in a half-capacity, 9,000-seat Ching Complex that would not sell refreshments. And we all know the requests were denied, denied and denied again.
And now the point of no return has passed. The damage in indelible.
UH football fans will never get to brag about being there for the Rainbow Warriors’ upset of then-18th-ranked Fresno State, or witnessing freshman quarterback Brayden Schager’s energetic comeback in his first NCAA start.
Because Saturday’s homecoming game was nationally televised — with announcers calling the game remotely from a mainland studio — fans could not see the Rainbow Warrior Marching Band’s dazzling halftime performance.
What’s more, the planned on-field ceremony introducing this year’s UH Circle of Honor class was postponed from Saturday to next year. UH quarterback Colt Brennan and sports/music personality Robert Kekaula — both of whom died this year — were important to the UH football program and the state. Their public Circle induction is deserving of an in-person audience.
And the UH athletic department is, metaphorically and financially, a tightened light bulb. With seven of 13 games on the road, the Warriors already had a smaller home football schedule than in previous years. Now their best-case hope would be to sell “season” tickets for the remaining three games at Ching, like TJ Maxx’s yellow-tag sale?
Without their fans’ attendance — and accompanying ticket money — for two football seasons, UH is facing an undertow of red ink. Not only is UH not collecting ticket revenue, it also has to pay back moolah it received. Not sure about the rest of you, but if somebody gave me $100 at 9 a.m., I would have $3.49 left by 4 p.m. UH had to refund nearly $1.5 million in student-activity fees the last academic year.
For UH, it was challenging enough when state-run Aloha Stadium deteriorated to the point where spectator events could no longer be held at the 46-year-old facility. (It appears the lights still work, so not everything will be sent to Reynolds Recycling when the stadium is razed next year.) But it has been financially devastating for UH to spend more than $8 million to retrofit the Ching Complex and then not be allowed to have spectators.
The restrictions also are impacting all UH sports in recruiting and retention.
There was a time when it could have worked out favorably for all parties. That time, it appears, is over.
