Bittersweet Symphony: A Memory of Mud, Pride and Bulldog Grit
By GREG FUGITT
Contributing Writer
It was November 21, 1997 a night etched forever into the minds of bulldog fans, a cold, muddy battlefield where grit, heart, and high school football pride collided. On this unforgettable November evening, Lawrence County High School ended one of the most dominant runs in Kentucky high school football history by defeating the Breathitt County Bobcats, 36–28, halting their astonishing 42-game win streak and chances of a three-peat state title, shaking the very foundation of Class 2A football.
Breathitt County entered the regional playoff as a juggernaut. Since 1995, they hadn’t lost a single game. Their 42-game win streak included two state championships and more than a few blowouts. Their roster was loaded, their confidence unwavering.
Lawrence County, on the other hand, was quietly building something special. Under the leadership of Head Coach Chuke Williams, the Bulldogs had gelled into a unit not just skilled, but selfless. They had fire in their bellies and unity in the locker room. Friday night in Louisa, it all came together.
The weather had been unforgiving leading up to the game. The field at Luke Varney Jr. Memorial Stadium was a swamp by kickoff. Sloshing across midfield was like running through a bog, with deep, slick mud that refused to give any player a firm footing.
But while the field was soggy, the fans were electric. Hundreds of the Dawg Family packed the stands and fence lines, wrapped in blankets, stomping their feet, holding umbrellas and fueling the underdogs with deafening support.
Jason Michael, Lawrence County’s tough-nosed quarterback, orchestrated the offense with calm confidence, he directed every drive like a seasoned general. Michael’s leadership combined with crucial playmaking made the difference.
One of the night’s most iconic moments belonged to Nick Meadows, the bruising and elusive running back. In the second half, Meadows took a handoff, and proceeded en-route to what I remember being a 60-yard touchdown but could be wrong, but either way, that run was more than a score, it was a declaration, a statement that Lawrence County demanded the respect they deserved.
Meanwhile, wide receiver Gerad Parker proved once again why he was one of the most feared pass catchers in the state. Frequently drawing double coverage, Parker still found room to haul in big catches, converting key third downs and scoring opportunities.
On defense, Phillip Ratliff’s unit played lights-out. They forced turnovers, Interceptions, fumbles, and swarming tackles, an unimaginable collapse from a Breathitt County team known for precision
As the final seconds ticked off the clock and the scoreboard read 36–28, the unthinkable had become reality. The win streak was dead.
Pandemonium erupted. Fans stormed the field as they chanted “forty-two and one”. One goalpost came down. As a newly sworn deputy sheriff, I can remember Sheriff Workman coming over to me just before the end and stating, “If they tear the goal post down, don’t even try to stop them”. Even though I couldn’t join in the celebration due to being on duty, I did watch my good friend Dwayne Maynard as he was perched atop the crossbar waving a towel as the post was brought down by the fans.
The victory was more than just a stat in the record book. It was a turning point in Bulldog football. It validated Lawrence County’s rise. That night on WYMT Mountain Top 5 Show, the broadcaster said, “In order to be number 1 you have to beat number 1, and Lawrence County has done that”.
Years later, locals still recall where they were that night. For the people of Louisa, it was more than just beating a rival. It was a story of belief, brotherhood, and blood-stained cleats in a muddy backyard battlefield. The Dawgs werenot just playing for a win. They were playing for every kid who has ever been told they were not good enough because they were from a little town in the hills.
And on that night, the little town of Louisa stood tall, giant slayers in the mud.