In alot of places its just another thing that happens on the weekend. You only go if your kids are actually involved.
And in some places it isn't really very fun. (gasp!)
My first participation was a long time ago. 1970 something.
I remember the lights. The voices around me. The wooden planks we sat on. And the way the black and white looked against the green.
It was pretty impressive. Even to a 5 yr old.
Holding hands. Taking a knee. Prayer. They were in it together.
Young men. Learning how to stand for each other and with each other.
Just kids. Sometimes making mistakes. Sometimes getting it right. But never quitting.
It was (and is) a community gathering.
An event that brings people together.
All cultures have them.
I grew up loving it so much.
In my humble opinion the moment that illustrates all the best of this event took place in Dallas.
The Arlington Game.
We were outsized. We were not expected to succeed.
The odds...the reality...the logic...
All were against us.
But our guys showed up. And we did too. About 22,000 of us.
It was an amazing phenomenon.
The other guys steamrolled our crew. They had it in the bag.
Our young men were tired, beaten, worn down and determined.
34-14 at the end of the third quarter.
34-34 at the end.
We won on penetrations.
It was amazing.
Some folks wonder why the whole town shows up. Why everyone talks about it. Why everyone knows.
Many have evaluated it. A book was written. Opinions abound.
Passion? For some.
Love of the game? For most.
Supporting kids? Almost always.
Community? Most definitely.
Black and white against the green.
It is an impressive sight. And still, thirty something years later, it makes my heart pound with excitement.
Something GREAT could happen here. In an unexpected place. In an unexpected way.
Hard work. Determination. Team.
A definitive event for my home culture.
I love it still.