“Got any big plans for tonight?” On this warm, Friday evening in September, Sandi was headed out the door for work and I stood on the porch, bidding her farewell.
I pointed to the lights at the high school stadium. “You bet. We’re going to watch a football game.”
About a half dozen times a year, Belton High School had a home game and, before construction of the new stadium, they played at the end of our block. The floodlights illuminated the tops of our trees, and the marching band sounded like it was in our backyard, but I never complained. At the high school level, the kids play their hearts out for the glory of the game, and I loved every second.
“Ooh, wish I could come.” She cast a covetous glance toward the high school.
“Me, too. Have a great evening.” I watched her drive away and went back inside with the boys.
After dinner, I took their hands and we headed toward the stadium. The parking lot fills rapidly, and strange cars lined our curbs, but all the traffic had stopped by the time I threaded our way down the street.
Seated in the bleachers, we watched the opening kickoff sail through the air. The mixture of the autumn evening, the noise of the crowd, the excitement of the game made me smile as I remembered high school games from my youth, so many years ago.
I led James and Ian in cheering, standing at exciting plays. The colorful jerseys, moving across the field kept their attention, but, when the game ended, they yawned, ready for the walk home.
Her shift over, Sandi joined me later that evening while the boys slept. “Well, how’d it go?”
I stood and raised both hands into the air. “Touchdown.”
William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.