Friday Night Lights

I didn't miss out on much growing up in Hong Kong. My life was full, rewarding.

But I did miss out on one notable thing: High School American Football.

Now I'm making up for it.

We're in full-swing football season here in Prosser. The red and white varsity Mustangs play every Friday night, and freshmen play on Monday. So, that's our lives right now: Monday and Friday at the Art Fiker stadium, watching Daddy coaching from the sidelines, cheering on our new team.

Last Friday night a girl rode a horse (yes, a real live horse) across the field before the game started. She must've been a talented equestrian because she held the pole of an enormous flag, unfurled behind her in the September breeze.

Every time the Mustangs score (which is a lot because they're good), a guy at the top of the stadium rings a huge bronze bell. Last week that bell rang seven times. Because we were busy spanking Redmond.

Ever since I went to my first football game at PLU twelve years ago, I've loved watching football. Good thing, too, because now it's ... life.

I sit in the stands on my little PLU seat cushion, bouncing a baby on my knee, stuffing french fries out of a Burger King bag into my mouth. We all take trips up and down the stairs for bathroom visits. The kids sip at my super-sized Dr. Pepper. The evening cools, the kids get tired. I hear, "When are we going home?" Gabe lies face down on an empty bench. I make a mental note to bring a sleeping bag next time.

So, no, I guess this isn't a real high school experience. It's high school plus four kids. But the Friday night lights are bright and there's a coach down there who's pretty cute. I think I'm going to like being the Mustang's #1 fan.