Getting Used to a New Kind of Fish Bowl

The Peninsula Seahawks football team took on the Gig Harbor Tides Sept. 6, once again away from Roy Anderson Field. In broad daylight and away from the night lights, Gig Harbor defeated Peninsula 35-21. This was the second annual edition of a new brand of Fish Bowl — “A safe and memorable experience for all” — at Mount Tahoma High School Stadium in Tacoma, a larger facility and, crucially, neutral territory.

As a senior at Peninsula, the hype leading up to the game still did not quite feel the same. A Saturday game, away from the lights of Roy Anderson Field, just didn’t elicit the same excitement. This sentiment was echoed by many of my classmates.

The idea of a Roy Andy Fish Bowl now evokes only nostalgia. We were mostly disappointed with last year’s game. The passion and close quarters that once made it exciting (but also arguably dangerous) were completely gone.

This year, however, a bright spot in the eyes of many students was the later kick-off time (5 p.m.). An evening game seemed slightly more exciting. A few weeks ago at Seahawk 101 (Freshman Orientation), upperclassmen and freshmen alike shared muffled excitement for the game. While the tradition remains exciting, it now exists with a frustrating asterisk.

In the 2023 Fish Bowl, a first-half skirmish on the field after an interception led to a Gig Harbor player getting seriously injured. That was complicated by a 30-minute delay before first responders, busy assisting students outside the stadium, could reach the field. Meanwhile, Gig Harbor fans had to stand after the guest bleachers started collapsing under their weight. The frustration spilled out beyond the field, even after Gig Harbor won, and the Fish Bowl was moved out of town.

Part of this comes as a result of the new athletic conference realignment. Since last year, Gig Harbor and Peninsula have inhabited separate divisions within the Puget Sound League, limiting the number of times we play against each other. In soccer, for example (my sport), we only play Gig Harbor once per season, whereas we used to play them twice. In some sports, the Seahawks and Tides aren’t guaranteed to meet at all. Still, Fish Bowl has (sort of) survived.

The Friday before the game, PHS held our yearly Fish Bowl assembly, aimed to amp up our students. It was weird to wait another 24 hours for the actual game. One of my friends sighed, “Man, imagine if Fish Bowl was tonight.” That sums up the feeling pretty well.

Fish Bowl in the student section was ultimately a fun time, despite the less-than-ideal circumstances. The sound of the marching band and roar of the crowd were unmatched as usual, and the stands were almost full on both sides. Mount Tahoma’s stadium offered a nice and clean facility with plenty of space. It was built for events like this. Peninsula and Gig Harbor fans parked in completely separate parking lots, one on each side of the stadium. Due to this setup, I never crossed paths with someone wearing Tides gear the entire time.

The distance between the home and away stands was also significantly further than at Roy Anderson, to the point where you could barely hear the chants of the opposing student section. A football player told me afterwards that it felt more distant on the field, too. Another element of the rivalry was removed here.

From the stands, the game still seemed intense, but not quite as intense as the years before. This is evidently the district’s intention. There were plenty of penalty flags (a few too many going against the Seahawks for my taste), but fewer personal fouls than I remember before, and also no long game stoppages for unsportsmanlike conduct. In the end, the defeat was as bitter, especially for me as a senior. Still, I cherish the memory of storming the field as a freshman, the first and only time I got to watch my team win Fish Bowl.

My perception as a student is that the school district is trying to solve the problems of previous Fish Bowls by simply separating Peninsula and Gig Harbor. Separate league divisions, separate stadium entrances, and even separate parking lots at Mount Tahoma. This is a Band-Aid fix.

We shouldn’t need to suck out the life and passion that make our schools great. Our students and, more importantly, the adults in our district, should be able to behave while sharing the same space. As a student, I am confident that this is possible. If the district genuinely believes it is not, then something else needs to be done to address the root of this conflict.

Trying to de-escalate Fish Bowl in the way the district has done also prevents amazing memories and experiences for their students. Not every high schooler gets to be part of such a surreal and passionate event. My freshman year Fish Bowl remains one of my favorite memories from high school.

It’s a shame that students going forward will never experience a Fish Bowl victory at Roy Anderson Field. It shouldn’t have to be this way for future high schoolers. I encourage our community to think about other solutions that could allow us to keep making amazing memories.

Almost everybody has friends from the respective school across town. We are not uncontrollable teens, and administrative authority would be more respected if student interests were accounted for and put first in meaningful ways. Divisions create resentment, and artificially dividing us further is not going to solve the problem. It will invigorate animosity and slowly stamp the life out of a spectacular local tradition. Hopefully, Fish Bowl will live on.

Jonas Koller is a senior at Peninsula High School.