Follow the Lights (2008)

The editor looked down and said: “Follow the lights.”

Seriously?

Yes, follow the lights.

In Texas, if you want to find a high school football game, you follow the lights.

Mapquest? Google maps? Maps, period? Don’t be silly.

You want to find a Texas high school football game – you followed the lights.

The assignment was to cover a small town Texas high school football game. I don’t really specifically remember which team or which place. It doesn’t really matter. It could have been Midlothian. It could have been Ferris. It could have been Red Oak. It could have been Italy (pronounced IT-lee).

The point was – as a fresh off the campus aspiring editor, I certainly wouldn’t be covering the Waxahachie Indians – who were perennial state champion contenders. They played in a nice stadium with great seats, nice parking lot, good concession stands and top-notch facilities.

No, as a “rookie,” I was being sent out into the night to cover a game that the paper would normally just phone in. That is, for games in smaller towns, the paper would simply call the stats guy and get the info from him or, better yet, one of the town’s boosters would call and give us the lowdown. The problem with the booster method is that they were not crazy about calling when their team was beaten.

Without getting too bogged down in the already-well documented fanaticism that is Texas high school football (thank you H. G. Bissinger!), let’s just say that practically every small town in Texas fields some sort of high school football team. For those rural areas with extremely small schools, they field six-man teams with the guys playing both offense and defense.

Suffice to say, Friday nights at the paper were extremely busy – fielding phone calls, lining up stats, confirming scores, and getting quotes.

Follow the lights.

That’s what he said. So I packed up my Pentax K-1000 camera (with real, honest to goodness Tri-X film, no less), and my trusty reporter’s notebook and hit the road.

And it was then that I discovered one of the great things about being in a state that was so flat – you can literally see for miles. And, of course, you can see the bright Friday night lights. And this is when you discover another great thing about covering small town high school football games – they love you. You show your press card at the gate and you are ushered in with a pat on the back, given free food, and shown to the sidelines where you are given free rein to hob-nob with the stat guy and get the inside scoop on sideline chatter.

They were so thrilled that anyone from any media outlet even cared enough to send someone that they were just beside themselves. It was quite a rush. For a couple of hours on a Friday night, you are a rock star. You are taking pictures. Getting quotes. Meeting the kids. Meeting the coaches. Talking to the families. And it’s there, in that moment, that you realize how great high school football is.

How different it is from college or pro football. Even in the most collegial atmosphere – most college football programs are well-guarded and well-choreographed atmospheres where you have to make an appointment to see the coach (maybe) and forget getting close to the players or the families. It’s just not the same.

From my time in Texas on, I have held a special place in my heart for high school football. From my front porch, I can see the lights of a football stadium. And every Friday night, I still find myself drawn to the lights.