It's Football Time in Alabama

It's football time in Alabama! August is here, and that means that all across our great state young men are preparing for one of the Deep South's great rites of passage. From small towns to downtowns communities are gearing up for the start of a new football season. To say that things are starting now is a bit misleading, though. For months now, these young men have been hard at work in the weight room, running drills, and participating in camps in preparation for this season. Yesterday marked the beginning of fall practice, as teams had the opportunity to have their first official practice of the year.

If you've never experienced high school football in a small town in a football-crazed state, you've missed out. There's nothing quite like going to a game on Friday night. I'd like to think that Friday nights are our greatest display of pageantry. When I think about the atmosphere under those Friday night lights, I can feel the goosebumps rising. In a few weeks, all of the hard work will come together and the band will fire up the fight song, the majorettes and flag corps will twirl away, and a cute cheerleader will cut some poor boy's heart out with her smile. The flag will be raised, the anthem played, and we'll salute that flag and pray for our young men and women, many of whom were on this same field just a year or two before, who have left the comforts of home and are fighting in an alien land.

This drama is played out week after week, year after year, in cities and towns across the nation. We'll win. Or lose. Old men and mamas will stand around and talk. Mamas will believe that the game would have turned out differently if that idiot coach would have just played her boy more. The old men will blame it on the toughness of the kids.

Old Man 1: I'll tell you, kids these days. No guts.
Old Man 2: If these kids were tough like we were when we played...
Old Man 1: I hear they get water breaks! When I played ball we didn't believe in water breaks. Water makes you weak.
Old Man 2: Kids got no pride. Even if somebody woulda offered us a water break, I wouldn'ta took it. Too tough.
Old Man 1: All this fancy equipment and buildings! I tell ya, back in our day...

You know the rest. Rehash injuries, share memories, rinse, and repeat.

Win or lose, we'll be back the next Friday night. We'll thrill with their victories and we'll suffer through their defeats. Kids will find somewhere to hang out after the game and celebrate/commiserate. Moms and Dads will sit in the stands and marvel at how quickly their sons and daughters have grown into young men and young women. Those veterans of playing days long past will grow misty-eyed as they remember their own days as heroes of the fall.

Most of all, we will look out with pride as "our boys" take on theirs. They may not be our biological children, but that doesn't make them any less ours. I believe that Friday night football may do more to break down all of the barriers that divide us in a small town than anything else. That kid on the field, in the stands, or on the sideline is no longer that kid. They're ours. They are the pride of our town and we're going to support them every step of the way.

Until we get to all of that glory, there's a price to be paid. As I type, students in all of the disciplines that will be displayed are gearing up for the practices that are required to reap the harvest of victory come September. Young men and young women, know that you carry our love for you, our community pride, our hopes for the future, and our memories of the past with you as you go.

That's my view, anyway, from here on N. Wintzell