Cooler temperatures and Friday nights mean something special in the South. Young and old alike don team colors and odd face paint and head to the town’s gravitational center: the high school football stadium. Like a tiny galaxy, the stadium glows as die-hard patrons orbit the lighted field. From kickoff to the final drive, the community pulse is palpable.
My high school mascot was a mule, which is fitting in several respects. Mules are common in the locale. They’re wonderful creatures with loyal spirits. They have an incomparable ability to be steady on their feet in uneven terrain while carrying heavy loads.
And they’re notoriously stubborn, which is both their greatest strength and greatest weakness.
Hmm, sounds vaguely familiar.
My letterman’s jacket had a mule with my name embroidered beneath it. My friends, and even faculty, called it my student I.D.
And while it’s true my stubborn streak has not faded with age, I’d like to think I channel it toward more fruitful efforts than I did in my youth. On fall Friday nights, you can find me channeling it toward the Bentonville Tigers football field.
After a respectful opening ceremony commemorating the Sept. 11 attacks, this past Friday’s game began as fans cheered with delight. The cheerleaders and senior boys in spirited wigs and patriotic pants kept the student section on their feet. All was well until one play stopped everything.
It was a hit you knew was bad from the moment you heard it. The crack. The collapse of both players. A helmet rolls away. Silence.
Our Tiger player roused up. The Valor Christian boy lay flat. For moments, he didn’t move.
And while what happened next may have been adult-inspired over time, it was without question peer-led at that moment. The boys on both teams took a knee, removed their helmets, gathered together and bowed their heads.
When some in the student section continued talking, a senior boy called from the sidelines for them to sit down and show respect. And they instantly did.
As the paramedics loaded the young Valor player onto the stretcher and carried him from mid-field to the awaiting ambulance, the crowd did what most reverent football fans do. They stood and applauded him. But then … he slowly lifted his hand into the air, acknowledging the love he felt.
The stadium erupted. Three-year-olds, 73-year-olds and everyone in between screamed, clapped and jumped in position. The longer he held up his hand, the louder the crowd became.
Yes, there are a few things wrong in this world, but there are many things right in it, too. I’m proud to live where, when there is tragedy, strangers connect and show love, honor and respect to one another, be it on a battlefield or a football field, between men in uniform or boys in padding of black and gold. The professional sports teams and leaders of our country could take a few cues from these boys, where they proved that mules, tigers and eagles can come together peacefully.
Maybe all it takes is some Friday night lights.
Lisa Kelley is a writer, master gardener, animal lover and all-around good ol’ Southern gal who also happens to practice law and mediate cases in downtown Bentonville. Email her at Lisa@ArkansasAtty.com.