Pursuit of Record Brings Sportsmanship Into Question

Maybe, Kinder thought, a national record would change their minds.

Early in the second half, the coach gathered his starting offense and asked a question that shocked them: How do you feel about going with a no-huddle offense? Do you want to go after this record for Paul?

"I've had kids that have had a lot of yards at halftime, and then we just kind of said, 'Well, he doesn't deserve this,' " Kinder said. "But with Paul, it was like, 'Hey, it's time for me to do this if it's ever going to be done.' I just brought the whole team over, and I looked at Paul and said, 'Let's go get it.' "

In the days that followed, other coaches criticized Kinder for showing such calculation. High school records should be the byproduct, not the purpose, of a stellar performance, they said. To that, Kinder gave each critic the same response: The days of carefree record-setting has passed.

In the last 25 years, the high school record book has ballooned from about 100 pages to almost 500. The intensifying competitiveness that has made over high school sports in recent years has also changed its record-keeping process. Gillis receives more than 300 record submissions each year, and he requires documented proof and a handful of signatures for each one. Records that have not been officially verified -- like a 739-yard rushing game in 1950 in New Jersey -- don't count.

Gillis includes a sportsmanship statement on each record submission form, reading in part: "Embarrassing an opponent for the primary purpose of inclusion in the record book is not consistent with the ideals of good sportsmanship." But inside the book, Gillis said, many records are founded on lopsided games.

"All these records aren't being broken in state championship games," Kinder said. "You get numbers like that against sorry teams."

Dave Hunt could accept the fact that Burch High School had a sorry team. The coach had expected as much after eight seniors graduated from last season's team and two more players transferred to Matewan. Hunt had approached 2006 with modest goals: to teach kids about football and build a nucleus for the future.

An embarrassing debacle that made national news was the last thing he needed.

Hunt knew Kinder well, since both men have taught classes at Burch recently, and he'd always regarded his rival coach as something of a local legend.

"He is a guy I always respected," Hunt said. "I never thought he would make me feel like this."

The coach felt confused when McCoy ran onto the field to start the second half. Livid when Matewan started to run a no-huddle offense in the third quarter with a 35-point lead. Nauseous when Matewan stopped returning punts, instead letting the ball roll backward to leave more yards for McCoy.