enlarge John Ewing/Staff Photogapher

Robbie Ferrante heads a crew comprised of Portland High alumni who serve as the chain gang for the Bulldogs’ home football games at Fitzpatrick Stadium.

enlarge John Ewing/Staff Photogapher

Carmine Rumo, left, and Gabe Walker, a 14-year veteran of Portland’s chain gang, watch a play along with an official during a game against Scarborough.

enlarge John Ewing/Staff Photogapher

Carmine Rumo, one of the newest members of Portland’s chain gang, confers with an official about ball placement.

BEYOND THE SCOREBOARD
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X's and O's through the eyes of a coaching staff.

The invitation came from Robbie Ferrante in the waning moments of a Portland High football game under the lights at Fitzpatrick Stadium earlier this season.

After weeks of staying in the background, of attempting to unobtrusively observe the intricacies of offensive linemen or officials or even onion grillers, here was a chance for participatory journalism. You may remember George Plimpton pioneering the concept, pitching to Willie Mays, tending goal for the Boston Bruins and, most famously, playing quarterback at a Detroit Lions training camp.

My task?

Hold a stick and count to four.

Incredibly, I failed.

Oh, it wasn't abysmal failure. Certainly nothing that affected the game. Yet, it was failure nevertheless.

The first series went fine. Portland sputtered in its own territory -- inside the 30-yard line means the chain gang roams free and clear, no coaches or players competing for sideline space -- and opted to punt on fourth down.

Carefully and patiently, I searched for a penalty flag before uprooting my marker. There! I spotted one, and mentally patted myself on the back for not abandoning the line of scrimmage.

Now the referee was conferring with the opposing captain. Here came the decision: Declined. Yikes, better get moving.

A quick 30-yard jog brought me and my fluorescent Dial-A- Down marker to the back foot of the line judge, indicating the new line of scrimmage, as both teams settled into their stances for the next play. Whew, just made it.

"Wait a minute," bellowed the umpire, Ed Tolan, standing over the football and glaring at me with mock disgust. (This happened to be the officiating crew we had followed the previous week.)

"It's first down, not fourth!"

Horror-struck, I looked at the rectangular box atop my pole. Sure enough, a big orange 4 stared back. Quickly I shoved three levers up to reset the down to 1, then glanced back at Tolan.

Grinning, he shook his head and backed away from the ball, unable to resist a parting shot before raising whistle to lips:

"Rookie."

Chastened, I finished out the series without further incident. Ferrante, a member of the Portland High chain gang for more than a decade, returned my notebook and pen. I handed him back his marker.

Some jobs are better left to professionals.

AN EXPERIENCED TEAM

For guys who spend an entire football game wearing blaze orange vests with a grid of black diamonds, Ferrante and his crew are remarkably invisible. Everyone looks their way, but hardly anybody sees them.

"We go unnoticed," Ferrante said. "But we should."

A cook at Rudy's All Star Diner in South Portland, Ferrante is the head softball coach at Portland High, his alma mater. He started working the chains at Portland football games a dozen years ago.

"It's fun," he said. "You feel as if you're part of the action."

The crew at Portland consists of Ferrante, Gabe Walker, Paul Cyr and either Joe Giordano or Carmine Rumo. All are Bulldogs alumni. Walker is a retired biology teacher and Rumo teaches U.S. history. They range in age from 50 (Giordano) to 72 (Walker).

Fourteen years ago, football coach Mike Bailey, who also teaches biology, asked Walker and physics teacher Jack Ney at a year- end retreat if they would be interested in working the chains.

"We jumped at it," said Walker. "Compared to sitting in the stands, it's really more exciting."

Tall and tan, with pressed khaki slacks and a navy blue windbreaker, Walker lends a dignified air to the crew, the rest of whom seem to prefer jeans or shorts.

"Another thing you're not aware of up in the stands is how hard these kids hit," Walker said. "You hear all the grunts and groans from here."

Ney gave up the gig this fall in order to watch his grandson play at Deering, so Walker and Ferrante recruited Giordano and Rumo, both of whom have filled in before.

Bailey's...