The Boys of Fall

As I was walking home from the Metro tonight, I decided to change my routine and take the Northern route. The distance is the same and I usually go south because it has fewer intersections to cross, but it was a very nice evening and I decided to take the north route for some reason. The north route takes me past Oakton High School, which is right around the corner from us, and tonight is Friday – Football Night – and the Cougars were at home. As I walked by, I saw the early arriving crowd – the cheerleaders and the band – out in the parking lot, and the kids all painted up and theme dressed for the game. As I walked along the road, the traffic was backed up trying to turn into the parking lot. The whole scene reminded me of this video. This is what it is all about – the boys of fall. Those teen-age giants of the gridiron who are living their dreams and making the memories that will last their entire lives.

If you know me, you know I played high school football for the mighty Sardis Lions. I was a 6’1”, 185 lb. Offensive Tackle and part time Defensive Noseguard. I was an average player that survived on want-to and heart, because lord knows I didn’t have any talent. I was really too small to be a lineman but too slow to be a receiver or a back, so they made me a lineman by default. Every sentiment Kenny Chesney expresses in the video is exactly correct. The sense of immortality on Fridays, the nervousness before the games, the emotion, the brotherhood, everything…… he nails it. The guys in the stands may have enjoyed the games and they may have fond memories of Friday football, but it isn’t anywhere near the same. You can’t understand it unless you played the game; unless you were a “boy of fall”.

Cheering in the stands is no substitute for hurting and bleeding on the field with your brothers in pads, and it’s not just game day. It’s also the summer workouts, the spring training, and the daily practices. I still bear a scar that Tracey Norton gave me one day when his facemask got up under my shoulder pads and peeled up a big piece of skin. I remember being an aspiring junior working hard for playing time and being so sore everyday that I wondered if I would ever go to sleep at night without hurting. I remember sucking sweat out of the collar of my practice jersey for hydration during an especially hard practice. I remember standing in the field house parking lot after practice my senior year just trying to soak it up because I knew in a few weeks it would all be over and I'd never have it again.

A miniscule number of high school football players will ever play in college and an even more miniscule number of them will make the pros, but for the rest of us, the value of the experience is priceless. The lessons and values I learned playing high school football have served me well in the last 20 years and I will take the memories of my high school football days to my grave. The friends I made on the gridiron can always count on me when the going gets tough and they need a real friend.