Fragments of a Small Town Friday Night
Small town Friday night, football game.
Goofy older guy dancing a crazy pantomime to show us where to park.
Patience with the parent volunteer who has trouble with “Two adults and three children please.” Really, what’s the rush honey, take your time.
I ordered hot chocolate – the entire concession stand cheered, it was the first one this year. NOW it’s football season! Felt like the millionth customer the way they celebrated.
Packs of kids everywhere, and not a single one I’d be afraid to walk through or have my kid join.
Announcer so down-home it sounds like Grandpa’s calling the game. And it made me smile.
Little One asking halfway through the first quarter what color our team was.
Then asking a few minutes later if the game started, so distracted playing with her friend that she hadn’t noticed.
Seeing people from church, work, neighbors, old teachers … stands full of familiar faces, all with a smile and a nod.
My teenage Tall One running with friends, answering my nosy, “Where you at” calls with a laugh. Not embarrassed by her Mom in front of her friends, good sign, good friends.
Crazy small town half time show, Dads dancing with their daughters on the field, all of us laughing so hard we’re near tears. Daughters gave them names like John “Shake What Your Momma Gave You” Smith and Tom “I’m So Glad She’s A Senior” Jones.
Spending more time watching the young boys tossing footballs on the sidelines, dreaming of their future glory days.
Oops, young boy’s aim is off, football into the crowd. He ran off, I thought he was embarrassed. No, he got napkins for a lady because he spilled her drink.
Did we win the game? I don’t even know. I was too busy loving this place.
