Against All Odds

I grew up around Friday Night Lights.

As a kid, if there was a varsity football home game in town (and even a few select away games), we were there. Front row, reserved seats. In South Georgia, football IS community ... particularly when there is only one public high school in the county. Unity and comraderie. We were the mighty Cougars.

Once I got into high school, it was marching band. We had folks to took just as much pride in the band as the football game. Again, it simply defined our Friday nights.

As an adult, my connection is still through the band, but now as a proud band parent. And Friday night, I was going to be a part of something big. Really big.

Humongoloid.

You see, my daughter is a freshman at Hillgrove High School in Powder Springs. We were seeded third from Region 4-AAAAA after the regular season, and we drew THE short straw for playoffs. Mind you ... this was Hillgrove's first season playing in the AAAAA division.

Getting past Stephenson in round one was bad enough, coming into the game as an eight-point underdog. We handled that game and surprised many who didn't expect to see the five-year-old high school advance any farther. But things were only scheduled to get more challenging.

For you see ... our short straw led us to "almost Jacksonville" in the far southeastern corner of the state to play the #1 ranked Camden County Wildcats. Defending AAAAA champions. Two years running. Nationally ranked in many polls. Hadn't lost a playoff game since 2007. Playing on their turf. Under a full moon. Can I stack this deck any higher? Again, in these communities across south Georgia, Friday night=High School Football.

The drive was such that we could not take the entire band, so it was a smaller contingency of about 60. Not even half our full complement. Six hours on a coach bus, with a return trip scheduled right after the game. Basically 12 hours of the day spent on a bus with a potentially excruciating football game in between. We were heading into enemy territory, pegged to lose by 15. I took a vacation day to chaperone. Why? Because the band kids are just that great and so worth it. But that's another story. Let's stick to the pigskin tale.

Camden County takes this game seriously. I mean, really seriously. There should be a movie. Huge bigger-than-life posters of their players (perhaps seniors) lined the fence in the end zone. No telling what time these folks arrived before the game. There was tailgating.

The stadium is probably the largest single venue in Kingsland. The visitor stands rivaled McEachern, but about half of our side was filled with Wildcats. Overflow, perhaps. Or as one Wildcat fan said on a local news station, "We sit on this side to taunt the visitors a little ... makes it fun!" Hillgrove fans were relegated to a section in the middle (which wasn't completely filled), and the band had the final section on the end. Many local media outlets and discussion forums didn't give Hillgrove much credit, if any. One columnist out of Valdosta quoted, "Hillgrove? Seriously? Is that even a school?" Um, yeah. Adam McDonald ... is he even a sports journalist? Sorry, I digress.

With the exception of some younger folks (read immature) who gave us some verbal abuse in the parking lot, the Camden County folks were a CLASS ACT. We had an escort take the chaperones from one corner of the field to the other where we could get our tickets for entry. No smack talk. No jeers. Southern hospitality at it's finest. We were the guests. Granted, it's like fattening the calf before taking it to slaughter ... they certainly felt we were going to be the main course for the evening. I think we were just a little annoying buzzing around their head that just needed to be swatted with one blow as they continued their trek to the Georgia Dome.

The game. I can't even begin to comprehend what was going through the home team's mind as it unraveled right before their eyes. Their "three-peat" was becoming a no-peat. Their insane consecutive playoff winning streak coming to an end. Hillgrove answering every score that Camden put on the board, and then some. The last minute seemed to take an eternity to complete. But in the end, they couldn't get close enough to the goalpost to kick a winning field goal. Was the scoreboard true? 00 seconds on the clock. Hillgrove 28, Camden Co. 26.

There seemed to be a pregnant pause. It was like we went into a weird, Matrix-like slo-mo action. We started celebrating, but the Camden players were trying to point out an offside penalty that just wasn't there. Apparently they didn't make the snap before the clock ran out. It was over. Speed picked back up, and the team poured out onto the field.

The Grove had pulled through, once again. Surreal shock spread faster than fog off the Atlantic only a few miles away. I think they were truly stunned on the home side and a good chunk of our side with the Wildcat fans. A Camden player was face down in the end zone. Our team soaking in the win. The band attempting to play the fight song without jumping up and down, risking a busted lip. Cowbells continued to ring from within the segregated section of fans decked out in crimson.

But Camden continued to show class. Handshakes in center field. Their entire team and coaches circling around center field, going down on their knee to have a final discussion after the battle was over. Our own team doing the same off to the side around the 20-yard-line.

A family of Camden fans were coming down the aisle between the chaperones and the band, and they congratulated us on the win. We exchanged compliments to each other for an exciting game, and we thanked them for their hospitality. I hope the children of the Camden family, as well as the kids in our band, got to see that exchange and understand how to win AND lose with grace and dignity. We get hyped up and riled up over our teams, but we're still human beings. As we exited the field and headed to the buses, I think our original escort was at the gate. He thanked us for a great game, and wished us a safe trip back home.

Class ... Friday night, Southern style. I hope our schools in Cobb County and other areas in the metro Atlanta area can get a taste of this in games of the future.

As we pulled out of Kingsland, we passed a lighted church marquee that was glowing bright orange. It read, "God has shown mercy on us."

Indeed, it seems He did.

Annual Post?

So ... when you don't write in your blog for a year, does it mean you're doomed to annual posting? I certainly hope not. My wonderful niece just starting writing, and I saw that in Facebook. It reminded me that I had a blog in Africa. Well, not really. But considering how negligent I've been with it, it might as well be across the Atlantic.

But it has been a wild and crazy year. In addition to the aforementioned job duties as president of a local chapter for business communicators (which I didn't do all that great a job of, IMHO), we have entered the realm of high school. Leah spend a good portion of late summer and all of fall in colorguard for the Hillgrove High School Marching Band. Their show this year was based on music from Swan Lake. It was a stunning show, and the couple of "pushes" in the show still gives me chills.

My first video taken with my Nano at the first home game was a total embarrassment ... I think I squealed for perpetuity. Chalk it up to "freshman parent." They competed in Akron, Ohio (placed seventh overall) and in the super regional in Atlanta (placing 11th out of 34). So proud of their accomplishments. They are a fantastic group of kids.

Amy and Chaz continue to plod along. Amy just finished her second book, entitled "Rosy Finds a Job." It's a fascinating page-turner ... all three of them. Illustrations of the characters on page three. She's so creative in that fashion. And Chaz has finally launched into a love of reading. I caught him reading National Geographic last week. Seriously. And no, there were no "interesting" photos that would have required a Q&A session.

Veda continues to hold down the fort and all of us hanging out of the windows. I continue to be amazed at her stamina and patience. The Lord blessed her with some gifts that I'll never master, so I'm glad He sent her my way.

Man ... this is good stuff. I think I'm AHEAD with this blog entry as a Christmas letter! So don't tell anyone.

Until next year? We'll see ... depends on whether or not something just seriously hits me that you need to know.