Friday Night Lights
I'm pretty sure the lights were the oncoming train.
Attending a high school football game is not something I do on a regular basis. I live in a mid sized city, which means there are several high schools and all of the talent is dispersed among the different schools, so none of them are consistently great and the rivalries change every generation. Unlike small towns, where there is only one school that has an on stadium campus and everyone who lives there attended the school and it's a community experience, we only have two stadiums for the city, neither on campus.
Now, like all respectable southern high schools, those stadiums do seat 20,000 plus people, but it also means that games are played both Friday and Saturday nights for logistical reasons. I didn't play football in high school, in part because I had no intention of missing a Georgia game just so I could be in attendance at my high school game. I mean, the main reason I didn't play is because when it comes to athletic skill, I'm a talentless hack with the build of a small hobbit, but it was also because I preferred to watch Georgia games. Neither of those things have changed since I was in high school.
This year, though, my finacee has two kids who attend my alma mater, and all of the games are actually on Friday. Because of this, I am able to attend the games without missing any Georgia games. Of course, I still work in the restaurant business, which means I have to take a Friday night off to attend a game-something I would never have done while serving or tending bar. Since I do more shift management now, I'm happy to take a Friday off since I get paid the same no matter how busy or slow. My boss is unlikely to let me have both Friday and Saturday off, but fortunately for me, the high school season started two weeks before opening weekend of college ball. As such, I was a spectator at my alma mater's opening game for the first time since I was in high school.
Turns out, my alma mater is still really bad at football. In fact, they are much worse than when I attended. After watching the woodshed beating we were subjected to, I realized that my high school self could have been a stand out on the team I watched. Our opponent was a team that is apparently our chief rival now-a school that didn't even exist when I was in high school-so the atheltic department called for a “white out” from the fans. About halfway through the second quarter I asked the oldest of my fiancee's children if the white out was meant to represent a surrender flag, so thorough was the ass-whipping we were enduring.
The youngest is not much of an athlete nor much interested in sports. He and I actually share both traits, as the only sport I really care about is football, specifically the Georgia Bulldogs. Much like a heroin addict with methadone, high school football serves to give me a needed fix leading up to college football. (NFL playoffs and the Superbowl serve the same purpose in the days after bowl season.) I attempted to show him the strategy and tactics involved in football hoping that would pique his interest. Given how severe we were being beaten down, this was difficult. There was a lot of me saying, “that was NOT what we were supposed to do.”
Last weekend our opponent is another really terrible team, so my alma mater has a fighting chance. Our opponent was apparently our biggest rival when my parents were in high school, and since college ball hadn't started, I'm planned to use that as an excuse to tailgate and watch a contest of athletic prowess. After that, though, I suppose I will have to go back to working on Friday night so I can have Saturday's off. If my boss decides to keep me on Saturday's, though, I may have both nights off, as I will probably quit my job. It wouldn't be the first time I quit a job in order to watch Dawgball. Until next time, may your soup be warm, your beer be cold, and your bar tab affordable. And GO DAWGS!