Taking the Boys to a Football Game

Let’s go to a football game.

That’s what one of the younger boys said to me recently. And, since the school district’s enormous high school football stadium, The Pfield, is near the house, I thought we’d give it a go.

As we walked through the parking lot to the gates, the dazzling white of the Friday night lights poured out of the stadium and over us. The line to get into the stadium was super long but apparently this game was one of the biggest rivalries of the season and general admission seats were in demand.  

As we waited in line, I couldn’t help but notice there was a palpable energy in the air. A cloud of excitement and anticipation hung over every group of teenagers. Or maybe that was just Axe body spray. Because, even though we were outside and it was a breezy evening, the sharp fumes of collectively over-perfumed teens was intense.

I mean, you could get lightheaded from just being downwind.

Nearly 20 minutes later we finally gained entry to the stadium. I had the eight and 9-year-old with me and they (of course) wanted to sit at the top of the stadium. We trudged up 42 bleacher steps and found seats. The game had already started and I pointed out the score, end zone for each team, and the bands. The 8-year-old pointed out that he needed to go pee.

I said something like, “We’ve been here for 120 seconds and for half of those seconds we were climbing up steps leading away from the bathrooms and now you tell me you need to go to the restroom?” His answer: Yes.

Down the steps, back up the steps, and we were finally situated and watching the game. However, it quickly became apparent I was the only one watching. According to the 9-year-old’s assessment, “we’re the only ones here who aren’t on phones.” While not literally true, there were a lot of people whose attention was on the little screen in front of them instead of on the game taking place in front of them in real life.

This didn’t appear to hinder the teenagers’ ability to emote and communicate with others in the stands though. The f word, and I don’t mean football, was being thrown around so much I felt like Holden Caulfield. If the Axe body spray had to compete with that word for air space in the stadium, it would be as exciting a contest as the football game.

The boys weren’t particularly attentive to what people were saying though or to the football game. It turns out they’re more cricket fans than football fans. Not cricket the sport but the insect. As night fell crickets began to swarm in the air around the stadium lights. My budding entomologist 8-year-old was riveted watching the crickets dive bomb from the sky and into the bleachers. As the crickets landed on or crashed into people in the stands their reactions were so over-the-top I can understand why the boys found this more engrossing than the game.

While I was cheering for a kick returned for a touchdown, the boys were cheering for a high school girl who was screaming as she battled a cricket caught in her hair. At one point I saw the 8-year-old crouched like a lion preparing to pounce on a cricket in the row behind us.

Not surprisingly, we didn’t stick it out for the whole football game. But I don’t think the boys minded since there were even more crickets on the ground in the parking lot.

Friday night high school football may be a vaunted tradition and right of passage in Texas, but perhaps it’s not quite the best place for elementary school age kids. Or those with insect phobias.