Friday Night Lights

The first full-dress halftime show of the year happened on a perfect September evening. Warm but not too hot, clear skies. While the home team fell apart in the third quarter, even that did little to damper the spirits.

The halftime show was only one part of the full performance they are working on this year, and I guess they cut it down due to time. They played well, but it was a little underwhelming seeing just part of the routine. My heart filled with pride to see my little boy, now so tall (and 15 years old!) executing a complicated maneuver while playing all the right notes.

Son #2, as a member of a middle-school band, got join his big brother for the pregame show, along with other local Catholic middle-schoolers. Hundreds of kids, each wearing their school t-shirts, marched out under the setting sun with the big high school band and played three songs. Son #2, in part due to his shortness and in part because they put the flutes up front, was in the front line. The combined band produced a great sound, and the stands responded with hearty cheers. Afterwards, he said to me, "It's too bad I have to wait until next year to do that again."

The entire evening was sort of magical. Under the bright lights, we watched the game and cheered the good plays. Our kids found friends and spent the game socializing on the bleachers. When one of our school's cheerleaders delivered the prayer, the bleachers for the big, opposing public school stood up and cheered. There were no ugly chants, no personal animosity among the fans. There were snow cones.

Coming from a non-sports family, I never spent any time in high school going to games. It didn't help that I attended a non-traditional high school- there was little energy devoted to the sports programs, instead focusing on keeping the small school in the business of education. In the year I graduated, the entire school had about the same enrollment as my son's current 9th grade class. We all found the quality of the academics a reason to consider ourselves above "normal" schools.

But what my high-minded high school didn't have was the sort of culture that penetrates into life beyond graduation. People sitting near us didn't have any kids in the game, but they were alumni from 20 to 25 years ago and they always try to get to at least a couple games a year. Between quarters they brought out members from the Team of 1968, celebrating the 50th anniversary of those bygone days on the field. Down on the sidelines, the outgoing chaplain was showing the new incoming chaplain the scene and making introductions. The president of the school was there, and the former president was also there. Multiple generations of former and current students came out to cheer on the team. Younger siblings fooled around by the concession stand.

As an arrogant, conceited  teenager, I probably wouldn't have participated in this sort of thing even if my school offered it, which is not to my credit. Now, I'm looking forward to the next game.

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