by Memorial High School discovers that a maverick is a calf with no brand, and the student body has questions about the navy and red.
WICHITA FALLS, Texas (Memorial Mavericks) – The student council at Memorial High School held an emergency lunch-period meeting on Thursday after a sophomore in third-period English looked up the word “maverick” and read the definition aloud to a room that had been wearing it on shirts for two years.
“It says here a maverick is an unbranded calf,” announced the sophomore, who asked to be identified only as “the one who finally opened the dictionary.” The classroom went silent. Then someone whispered, “We are the cow?”
A Mascot Chosen by Vote, Not by Reading
The mascot was selected by a student vote that pitted the Mavericks against the Titans for the new school on the north side of Highway 82. The Titans, a name that means a giant of immense power, lost. The Mavericks, a name that means a cow nobody has gotten around to stamping, won. Several seniors confirmed that they voted for it because it “sounded like a movie where a pilot says something cool.”
The district’s reasoning was never recorded, but the cafeteria manager has a theory. “Kids pick the one that sounds like a truck,” she said while restocking tater tots. “Nobody picks the one that sounds like a heifer. Yet here we are, in a building with a heifer on the gym floor.”
What Exactly Is a Maverick
According to the dictionary and to Texas folklore, the word comes from a rancher who famously did not brand his calves, so that any wandering animal without a mark became known by his name. A maverick, in the strictest sense, is a creature that belongs to nobody and has a lot of free time. The student body took this news in stages, which the school counselor says resembled the stages of grief, with a short pause at “but we have a great logo.”
- Stage one: denial. A freshman said the dictionary was “probably from the old school.”
- Stage two: bargaining. A junior proposed that the Mavericks be reclassified as “a calf with a plan.”
- Stage three: acceptance. The band said it would play the fight song slightly louder to cover the shame.
The Brand Question
The big question, as one senior put it in the hallway outside the library, is whether a school with navy and red colors, a ribbon-cutting, and an address at 6600 Kell West Boulevard can still be considered unbranded. The grand opening was held to replace three older high schools, and by any reasonable measure, the building has been branded all over. There are banners. There are decals. There is a banner of the decal.
The student council responded with a six-point plan:
- Rename the school newspaper “The Branded Mavericks” to settle the paradox.
- Ask the district whether a hot iron is covered by the activity fee.
- Hold a vote on whether navy counts as a brand or merely as a mood.
- Consult an actual cow.
- Consult an actual cow’s lawyer.
- Ask the cheerleaders to stop yelling “Brand us!” at the volleyball team.
The consultation with the actual cow will be a challenge. The reporters at Bohiney (bohiney.com) have covered cattle disputes with a great deal of seriousness, and a recent headline on farm.fm about a dairy cow who demanded back pay shows that livestock have become far more organised than the student council. The council is therefore advised to have its paperwork in order.
The Football Team Takes It Well
The football players were told just before practice, and the head of the booster club said the news changed nothing. After all, the team was ranked for the first time in school history in only its second year, which is a remarkable thing for an unbranded calf. A lineman said he was “honestly proud of the cow.” A running back said that if the Mavericks are a calf, then the Legacy Leopards across town are, scientifically, a different kind of cat, and the whole thing was suddenly much easier to explain on game night.
The Leopards, reached for comment, said they had chosen their mascot after reading about it. They declined to elaborate, and then purred.
Parents Weigh In
The parent-teacher association met in the library on short notice, and the mood was calm until someone asked what a school full of unbranded calves does at graduation. “Do we hand them a diploma or a ribbon?” asked one father, who then admitted he had never read the dictionary either. The meeting adjourned after a motion to bring snacks and ask fewer questions.
What Happens Next
The school has no plans to change the name. Texas high school mascots, the history teacher reminded everyone, include creatures that have never existed outside a fever dream, and a calf is practically ordinary by comparison. The district built the place for $276 million, from a bond that closed three campuses, and is not about to repaint a gym over a word in the dictionary.
Still, the student council has sent one formal request to the administration: a small ceremonial brand, shaped like a lowercase m, to be applied to the school’s front door. Not to a calf. To the door. The administration has not responded, but a custodian was seen measuring.
The sophomore who started the whole thing was asked how it felt. “I just wanted to know what the word meant,” she said. “Now I know what everyone around me means too.”
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/
