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Excerpt from Chapter 7 of Sidelines:
Cherokee
Eu-stugwoe - “I’ll play anybody.”
The yearly battle between Swain and Cherokee typically happens right in the middle of October. Perfect football weather. The Great Smoky Mountains surrounding Ray Kinsland stadium come alive with color. The air smells fresh and clean, not too cool, but crisp enough to bring out the hot cocoa and the outdoor blankets. To the casual observer, it’s the kind of atmosphere you would find in most football stadiums across America. Visiting teams rarely make this mistake when they arrive at Cherokee High School. At least not anymore.
When Skooter McCoy joined the Cherokee football staff back in 2000 as an assistant coach, he began to incorporate some of the Tribe’s traditions in subtle but unmistakable ways. He believed that the Cherokee had something sacred that no one else could harness. They were fighting for more than just local pride. An entire nation was watching, a history of men and women who had struggled for the right to live on this very land, to breathe in the crisp air of these beautiful mountains and to listen to the rush of the Oconaluftee River as it swelled from the autumn rains. There was so much untapped potential.
The Cherokee stands on this October evening are almost completely full by 5:00 pm. When the Maroon Devils come out for pre-game warm-ups, their bleachers are packed as well. It’s been a few years since Swain has made it to back to the 1-A championships, but their fans are rabid nonetheless. Bullhorns echo across the valley from either side of the field. The smell of a deep-fried beef and popcorn fills the air. Cars honk as they drive down Acquoni Road. The roads are practically empty, since almost every resident of the Qualla Boundary is already crammed into the stadium.
The sun has set below Thomas Ridge and the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s only a matter of time now. Swain County has the field to themselves as they go over the Cherokee offensive and defensive sets.
Without warning, tribal music begins to play through the stadium’s loud speakers. The music is eerie and dark, a tune more suited to a horror movie than a family outing. When the tune ends, the Cherokee war call blasts from the speakers.
“Whewww, whewwwwwwww!” a voice shrieks.
Fans on both sides of the field begin to notice a tingling sensation in their arms and necks. The high-pitched wailing brings the anticipation to a fever pitch. From the darkness behind the visitor stands, the Cherokee football team answers the war call with one of their own:
“Whewwwwwwwww!” they scream in unison.
The war call goes back and forth, becoming louder with every response.
“Whewww, whewwwwwwww!”
“Whewwwwwwwww!”
“Whewww, whewwwwwwww!”
“Whewwwwwwwww!”
Suddenly the Cherokee Braves come out of the darkness and onto the game field, walking in pairs to their own end zone. Behind the goalpost is the Seven Clans Monument. This is another one of Skooter McCoy’s additions to the pre-game ritual. A stone monument sits in the middle of a circle, surrounded by seven poles made of wood and stone. Wooden masks hang from each pole beneath the soft glow of solar lamps. Each mask represents one of the Tribe’s seven clans, which have been passed down for centuries: Wolf, the fighters; Blue, the medicine men; Deer, the hunters; Long Hair, the diplomats; Paint, the wise men; Wild potato, the farmers; and Bird, the speedy messengers. The circle is dark, except for the solar lamps surrounding the slab of stone in the center.
Each player places a hand on the Seven Clans Monument, and together they repeat a single phrase which is etched on the stone below them:
Eu-stugwoe.
In English, the phase means, “I’ll play anybody.”
The Eu-stugwoe war call has been around for well over a thousand years. It was only spoken in times of war or while playing the sacred game of stickball. Coach McCoy loves to make connections between football and the Tribe’s traditional past time. Stickball combines the tactics of lacrosse, rugby, and wrestling into a sport that has clear similarities to football. Before a stickball match, opposing teams line up and face each other across the field. One team advances ten yards and issues the call, then the other team responds. They eventually meet at mid-field, the fifty yard line. At that point the drivers, or referees, pair up the opposing players by size (sort of like man coverage, Coach McCoy tells his players.) The first team to make the war call will issue the final challenge, Eu-stugwoe.
Eu-stugwoe is a prideful statement that gives the Cherokee warrior a sense of calm before every battle. It also gets an opponent’s attention. When Skooter McCoy started issuing the war call back in 2001, his players took to the phrase immediately. Eu-stugwoe was meaningful to them alone. Other teams could say it, but it wouldn’t have any power. Eu-stugwoe was passed to them through blood. It took a few games for the crowd to figure out what was going on. But when the elders finally picked up on it, the phrase caught on like wildfire.
As the scoreboard counts down to zero, the Cherokee Braves break the circle of the Seven Clans and run through a tunnel of cheerleaders and traditional Cherokee dancers dressed in full regalia. The crowd cheers, the air horns blare, and another evening of high school football can finally begin.