Tuesday, Aug. 23
August 23, 2011Thursday, Aug. 25
August 25, 2011A work stoppage will never cancel a game played on Friday nights.
There will never be labor disputes, scab players or suits holding press conferences to recap the status of that particular day’s negotiations.
Likewise, there will never be greedy, selfish athletes taking plays off and sliding away from contact to keep their pretty face clean for their Tuesday morning photo shoot with (insert billion dollar corporation here), all of this being done while his even greedier employer sits in a luxury box of the stadium he asked taxpayers to build and sips on a $10,000 per bottle wine without a care in the world.
That’s because on Friday nights, real football is played.
Not that commercialized crap you see on multi-billion dollar networks each Sunday, this is real football.
The sort of football where teamwork actually still means something and people remember the offensive lineman for his block just as much as they do the halfback for taking the ball into the end zone. Once in the end zone, there is no self-promotion or celebration dance, the back promptly hands the football back to the official to get ready for another play.
You know? Pretty much the way things should be done.
We’re talking about bands blaring beats in the stands, cheerleaders surrounding the stadium track and concession food that’s actually homemade, not processed. Oooo, the sweet smell of those barbecued pork chops that can be experienced by any wandering nose in the downstairs area of a Tri-parish stadium.
You ready for football yet?
We’re talking about coaches suffering in the heat three hours before kickoff to paint lines on the field. That is, of course, after they deposited several hours of their time and ultimately their sweat on that same field just days earlier to chop down the grass.
Oh, that sweet, sweet humming of a lawn mower kicking up freshly cut grass in the middle of a warm, late August school day. For some, it’s an annoyance. To others, like me, it’s a reminder that the season is finally here.
Real football is played when teams run through banners to symbolize the start of a game.
And then there are the hits, the sweet, sweet sound of those hits.
There’s no ducking away from contact in real football. Most times, players run toward it.
After five-straight days of sitting in a classroom and doing homework, those boys deserve to take out a little frustration. They do so early and often in each game. The results are often magical.
Part of that magic is that quarterbacks aren’t protected like spoiled babies in the prep game. Heck, most times, the quarterback is a team’s best player and athlete. You think he’ll be looking to slide when he gets outside of the pocket?
Absolutely not, he’s looking to motor past the linebackers and into the end zone.
That is, ultimately, what football is about, right, winning games and scoring touchdowns?
Why is it those guys on Sunday think it’s about money and trying as hard as possible to not be hit in what is a contact-driven sport?
But more importantly than that, real football also divides a community of people that are otherwise … alike.
For example, if you live in Larose, you see the world through blue and gray lenses. If you jog just a mile and a half to the north and head to Valentine, the world automatically is seen in shades of Trojan green and gold.
Likewise, people from Houma are Terriers, Tigers or Warriors, whereas people in Bourg are Gators or Patriots and people in Gray are Braves. In St. Mary Parish, it’s the same, Morgan City breeds Tigers, where no more than a half-dozen miles up the road, Lumberjacks roam.
High school football is the purest form of the sport. It’s a time in one’s life when they can play the sport just for the sheer love of playing.
And locally, it’s where legends are born, larger than life heroes like Trovon Reed, Kenny Hilliard or Bobby Hebert.
Mark me down as one person who is happy to be along for the ride.
Last year, we saw one team overcome tragedy and unite for a strong season. Just up the road, we saw another erase a 14-point deficit in less than two minutes to rally and accomplish their goal, to make a trip to the Louisiana Superdome.
Let’s go out there and do it again this year, guys!
I’m counting on you all to make this a great season.
If not, I’ll still be content with all of that stuff played on Saturday and Sunday, those are OK, too.
But mark me down as one guy who knows when the real football is played, right under these Friday night lights.
Best of luck to all coaches, players and supporters in your 2011 season!