Brown and Gold Forever

I am home again this weekend. I had convinced myself that I wasn't going to go to the game tonight, that I was going to let them have their space, let them make their own memories, but the thought of missing out on seeing everyone tore holes in my stomach, heart and soul, so I went. I've said it before, and I'm sure by now it's getting redundant: I love the atmosphere of a Friday night football game. I helped mom sell sweatshirts today and at one point we needed a role of masking tape to hang up the pricing signs so I set off to find some. Walking around, I was reminded profoundly of a Xanga post I made a little over a year ago:

It's a Friday night. The sun is setting slowly in the west. You step out of the school and stare at the football stadium. On the press box is a large new sign with the words " Buckeye Valley High School: Home of the Fighting Barons" spread across a huge brown and gold shield. Flying from the newly erected stadium lights are dozens of gold banners each fluttering gently in the late August air. On the chain-link fences hang signs of brown and gold, displaying spirited words of inspiration and pride. In the parking lot are hundreds of cars, each displaying a window flag or a bumper sticker with the brown and gold shield and the words, "BV's teams will forever fight for Victory". As you walk into the stadium itself you see hundreds, maybe thousands of people wearing brilliant gold shirts and brown and gold scarves and hats. A group of students waves a giant flag with the shield emblazoned across the center. Looking around in amazement, you realize that not only is the stadium clad in brown and gold but the entire area. The lampposts surrounding the stadium and the middle school proudly display banners that welcome the visitors to Baron Country. Children wave small flags and students twirl bright gold towels frantically above their heads. You are called to attention (because if you're reading this you are most likely in the Band) and at the command there is a resounding roar from the crowd as the cadence starts and you march proudly onto the field. You pass Mrs. Sturni who is cheering frantically and waving a gold towel like a old-fashioned handkerchief. You can't help but smile. You breath a deep breath of warm air, smelling the cooking hamburgers and hot dogs, savoring the memory. As you step onto the field, it hits you: you are a senior and this is your last, first football game. The roar of the crowd dies away as you begin to play the alma mater. The crowd is singing along. Pride radiates from you and everyone around you. You are home.

I was thrilled to see how close BV is coming to this ideal. There was more gold in the stands tonight than ever before, people had their faces painted, they clapped for the fight song. Our class gift was a series of pennant-flags for the top of the press box representing the schools in our district and to see them fluttering in the breeze made me feel a deep sense of accomplishment and happiness. I was pleased to see so many people wearing the sweatshirts I designed for the show-choir. I think people are finally beginning to understand that supporting your school by wearing the colors is not only acceptable, it's encouraged.

Wading through past Xanga posts is like taking a sudden trip back in time. For the most part, my posts were lame, emo, whining sessions and so reading them is depressing, yes, but oddly hilarious. Hindsight is 20-20, so they say, and looking back at all the trivial things I usually wrote about makes me sick. In my search for the above post I did come across one prophetic excerpt from the night of our last football game as seniors:

It gave me the warm-fuzzies when they applauded us on the bus ride home. Those juniors are something else. I sure am going to miss them.

Truer words were never written. I think about them every day.

I talked to Melissa today, which lifted my spirits considerably. She and I are about the same, emotionally speaking. We feel the same way about a lot of things and it is great to talk to someone who you know, without a doubt, understands the way you are feeling. I miss her too.

After the game, we went to Pizza Hut for some "just-like-old-times" chitchat. I love spending time with some of the people I was just getting to know, namely Emily, Anita and Mick. They are great kids and I love their enthusiasm and senses of humor. I brought up the fact that I can't wait for Pep Band season because I will be able to make it to quite a few games during my month-long Christmas break. I love that atmosphere too.

Well, this post is much longer than I wanted it to be, and it lacks a clear theme; but who cares? Not me.

Miss you all. Stay in touch. See you sometime.