The Herald-Zeitung

Content disclaimer: Be advised, this column contains admission by the author of a lack of football knowledge, which might be shocking to some Texans.

It was my senior year of high school and my dad had a look on his face that said, “Is this really my daughter?”

It was the night of the Oil Bowl, the cross-town rivalry in Casper, Wyo., my hometown.

It was the one and only high school football game that anyone in the town seemed to care about, but it still didn’t fill the stands.

Somehow, my high school won the thing that year. It was a miracle. We had a terrible football team and I think it’s the last time we won Oil Bowl since.

When I got home, my dad asked me about the game. He wanted to know what I thought of the fourth quarter. Apparently, that’s when my team pulled the game out of the toilet.

As I searched for the answer, there were two things I didn’t know. I didn’t know that my dad was at the game. And I didn’t know a thing about football. To me at that time, football was just that dull roaring sound that came from the living room on Sunday afternoons.

I tried to wing it.

My dad shook his head and said, “You weren’t even watching.”

Then he walked away and closed the den door behind him, maybe for privacy while he wrote me out of the will.

My senior year, I went to every home game, but it was just to socialize. I kept my back to the field most of the time, laughing and talking and generally being a high school girl.

This past Friday night as I sat in the stands at the New Braunfels vs. Seguin game, I thought about that look on my dad’s face and I finally understood.

My dad grew up in Texas where his community came together every fall Friday night around the football field.

As I looked around Unicorn Stadium, I saw the cultural gap between my high school experience and my father’s.

And I was a little jealous.

The stands were packed and the track around the field was full of band members, cheerleaders, Unicorn Handlers, the drill team and the Monoceras. It seemed there was a way for each and every student to get involved if they chose.

Then there were the players. For the first time in my life, I actually watched a high school football game — the game part.

Without insulting my high school friends with comparisons, I’ll just say I was blown away by the caliber of play.

My eyes moved from the field, to the support teams near the field, to the incredible school spirit in the stands. I felt a sense of community that other towns only dream about creating.

I looked at faces of people I will soon know and it gave me another reason to be glad I moved to New Braunfels.

On the ride home after the game, I immediately made arrangements to attend Wurst Bowl, and depending who is playing at home, to attend a Canyon or New Braunfels game every Friday night.