Friday Night Lights:

Run to win.

(First Corinthians 9:24)

Last Friday, Linda and I drove north a ways to watch Gary and Janice’s grandson play quarterback for Analy High School. I watched for Gary. He wouldn’t be there. That’s the saddest thing about leaving this old world.

That night, Analy competed against longtime rival El Molino High, which is a little further north in Forestville, up towards the Russian River. They call this big game the “Golden Apple Bowl” from the days when Sebastopol up through Forestville was known as the Apple Capital of the world. The apple orchards are mostly gone now, replaced by vineyards. I suppose they should change it to “The Grape Bowl,” But the big, tall trophy remains apple topped.

I sat with Ken, Gary’s younger brother, who played fullback next to Mel Grey during Montgomery High’s glory days. Mel Grey went on to play in the NFL with the St Louis Cardinals. Ken and I talked some of the old days and marveled how Friday night football still holds up: cheerleaders, band, teenagers roaming about, and the game played under the lights.

Same Friday night experience, though some things had changed like apple orchards into vineyards.  Now, the play on artificial turf, that’s not good. When the turf was real, one, like myself who didn’t get much playing time, could always find enough mud to dirty up. There’s nothing worse than ending the game with a clean uniform. And, now they spread the formation from sideline to sideline—that’s different. When I played “end” it meant that I lined up at the right or left end of the line, but now there’s positions stretching out beyond the “end” so the “end” is no longer the “end”. Or again, now they go no-huddle—how do they do that? I had a hard enough time trying to hold the play in my head between the call in the huddle and the snap. Nevertheless, it’s still football—blocking, tackling, running; and, the most beautiful play in sports, the forward pass.

And could Gavin ever pass. He threw the football for 355 yards and four touchdowns. He played his heart out. He competed. They lost. It hurts to lose. But he’ll rally. He’ll show up for practice Monday. Next Friday, he’ll take to the field against Piner High, and “play to win.” I’ll miss that game. I hope he gets a “W”.

“Compete” and “run to win” doesn’t sound properly pious or biblical, does it? But at its best, competition means we care and we have the courage to take our place on the field. When we do it right, we “feel His pleasure” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pd5LCN53q9Y).