Friday Night Delights, Foreshadows the Future

Friday concluded North Carolina’s 2021 high school football regular (fall) season, my 19th spent around sidelines and press boxes observing, chronicling, #broadcasting and enjoying.

Much has changed in our society over these past two decades. The weekly fall spectacle in high school stadiums scattered across the U.S. is no exception. Generally, the crowds are smaller, and apart from a cross-town rivalry or a late-season battle of unbeatens, interest in the audience seems to wane a little more every year.

Yet halcyon beacons still call #highschoolfootball faithful masses, shining a fleeting spotlight on a steady cycle of talent that defines each passing generation.

There’s more distractions, more options on Friday night (especially in a town with any size). There are a lot more digital devices, too. Group pics and selfies. Status updates, hashtags and check-ins. Flashlight feature enabled and assembled into 10-15 person groups - a swarm of phony fireflies infest the opposite stands.

Yet for all the ways that life under #FridayNightLights has evolved, the important aspects of this seasonal ritual remain the same. Scores of people still dedicate themselves to the spirit of competition, the pride of performance and the camaraderie of community.

To be a spectator is a privilege. To be a participant, a reward.

Because we’re fortunate in North Carolina’s #HickoryMetro to witness many of the first seeds sowing professional talent. Under the lights of stadiums named after Frank Barger, Garry Butler and Thomas E. Brown, leaders in each class start to plant their place in a society that will always need them to perform.

And that extends well beyond the athletes. Sure, there’s Harper, Shatley and Succop; more lately Farley and Dickerson. A few names appearing on NFL rosters sprouted first roots in the Hickory Metro’s fertile football fields. But in far, FAR greater number there are those high school standouts who, as the NCAA might like to remind us “go pro in something other than sports.” #NIL

Yesteryear’s leader in the marching band is today’s teacher of the year in the school system that raised her. Rabble-rousers and organizers of the student sections a decade ago publish magazines and practice sports medicine. Business owners, electricians, insurance salespeople, lawmakers and soldiers. They’re in the cheer squad and the flag corps. On the field and among the fans. Today’s apparent moments of aptitude foreshadow success for #workforceofthefuture.

Floods of emotions rise and swell from sunset kickoff until the final 00:00. Startling stadium loudspeakers warm the pre-game with power chords perfect for a stretch. Steady murmurs of voices grow as gates and concessions lines fill with fans. Building cadence marches in from distance, drums echo across the stands. “Please stand and remove your hats …”

A couple of times this year I was overcome. Never happened before. Can’t say it won’t happen again. For a moment during the anthem performed by a high school chorus, some kind of weird gravity hit me. Talent on display, inspired by youth and hope and pride and emotion. A few seconds of art in its purest performance. Josh, the PbP voice and broadcast lead throws it to me. It was all I could do to contain the blubbering. I shut it down.

Two weeks later brought St. Stephens High School’s salute to the U.S. Armed Forces, and a parade of our county’s fallen soldiers. Among them, names I remember reporting. Young men killed in Iraq and Afghanistan, just barely removed from the same school stadium where the audience now mourns their sacrifice.

That time I tried to put words to my emotions. I think might’ve wimpered.

?A fortunate few see the cycle of students come and go, one class after another. Thanks to people like Dave Lingafelt, Josh Edmonson, and the late Captain Jack Beach, I’m among a select group of individuals, many of whom have spent their lifetimes genuinely committed to sharing and supporting the success of these young people.

Of course, administrators, coaches and teachers orchestrate the chaos. Media chronicles the ride. But it’s the students, parents and volunteers who power the weekly procession through the gears. Celebrate the moms and dads, aunts and uncles. They’re prepping hot dogs, hamburgers and … livermush? … or peddling pom-poms, programs and mascot-covered gear. Selling tickets. Serving duty as game officials or working with the chain gang. Prepping press box surroundings to guarantee a little coverage outside the night’s audience of fans.

A lot of work from a lot of people goes into every single production. It takes time and commitment, but it always seems like the reward is worth the investment. Week-in and week-out, through every passing season, we’re fortunate to watch the young people who will someday blossom into the adults who lead our world.