When I drove to Martinsville High School several weeks back, on Friday, August 27, it was my first time at a high school football game since the last time I had a uniform on. Now, it hasn't even been five years since then, so this might seem ridiculous - but I genuinely forgot how wonderfully fantastic high school football games are. I would probably attribute this to an attempt to disassociate myself from the general high school scene, which I think I've managed to do. But, whereas I can play pickup basketball or hit the links for some golf or the neighborhood courts for some tennis...football isn't quite so manageable. This is something I miss dearly, and it took a Friday night trek to jar that realization loose.
The title of H.G. "Buzz" Bissinger's book, Friday Night Lights (arguably the greatest sports book ever), is remarkably simple, yet so unequivocally perfect. NCAA CFB and NFL games are great, and nobody in their right mind would ever suggest that type of precision and skill can be seen on display in Southern Virginia. But the buzz (no pun intended) on a Friday night, especially in a smaller town, is special. Those lights can often be seen from miles away, and you only have to follow the line of cars at that point, all the way into the overcrowded parking lot less than 500 feet from the stadium's front gate.
Most of the kids playing in the game have followed the trail of headlights nearly every Friday in the Fall since the time they started walking. At the beginning, they were probably running around with a nerf football or asking their parents for money. Over time, as an interest in the on-field events peaked, the impression surely was made on them how important winning on Friday night was. This is what you'll remember the most, old-timers would tell them, and this is what people will remember you for the most.
That may be a sad statement, but it's often enough true. On average, one player on a team, maybe, will go on to play big time college football. One player in a district, maybe, will make it to the NFL. That means 99% of these guys are wearing shoulder pads and a helmet for the last time in their life. The last opportunity to create a legacy, before they're the ones standing around the fence, shaking their head and telling anyone who will listen about their glory days.
People in the stands care more about the games on Friday night than the ones on Saturday and Sunday, too. Now, before you pull out your UVa tailgate gear, don't confuse ‘care' with ‘passion.' I've been to plenty of college football games, at football-happy places like Penn State and Virginia Tech and athletics-happy places like UNC and NC State. People are nuts, but there's a whole lot of alcohol flowing and a whole bunch of rowdy 19-year-olds drinking it. They're passionate about their school, as are most of the other people in the stands, often times graduates from long ago.
At your high school games, though, people care. They care because it's their children playing, it's their older brother playing, it's their neighbor playing. The stinging feeling of loss or the victory cheer rings truer when you have a real attachment to the individuals on the field, and it sticks with you longer.
I was in Landover, Maryland, when 80,000+ showed up to see Virginia Tech square off with Boise St. I was in Blacksburg, when a stunned crowd went silent following James Madison's historic upset of the Hokies. Those are two powerful memories, and two games I'm sure I will talk about the rest of my lifetime.
Yet, neither of them evoked an internal reaction like my first trip back under those Friday night lights. It's truly good to be back, and I suspect I'll not soon fight this feeling anymore.
Woo Hoo for REO Speedwagon. Until next time, dewa mata.
Nick King is a videographer and sports contributor for ABC 13.
