Last Friday was my high school's rival football game and alumni night. I do not usually attend most years, but it was a home game, and the football team has been doing remarkably well. But ultimately, the weather and the mood were just right. I've been returning to more and more of my old haunts as of late. 

When I was in high school, I'm not sure I went to a single football game. I had a job and skipped a grade. There was little time left in my week to spend. This night was my first time back to an event in many years. It was nice to see my school was still mostly homogenous like it was. 

I've been to this field and stadium countless times, deep into the nights when I was the only soul—usually running bleachers or doing some track work. The stadium was packed, standing room only. Seeing it completely alive with over 5,000 people was surreal. 

I ran into some of my old teachers and classmates. Always met with warm handshakes and hugs. We would briefly catch up and continue on. It felt right. It felt like the "old America." The one that doesn't exist anymore, but one that could have. 

I stood along the fence in front of the wildly spirited student section. Nearly everybody was wearing all black, one of the school's colors. I was too, not planned; I tend to wear mostly black clothes. 

The section would chant at the referees, the rival team, the rival fans, hold signs, jeer and mock. I loved it.

You could smell the fallen leaves from the forest behind the stadium, and the food cooking on the concession stand grills in the brisk evening air. 

Being rival night, you could feel the tension and perhaps a bit of animosity before kickoff. The rival team scored early in the first quarter, followed by many missed plays by both teams until a home team field goal in the second quarter. A series of first downs lead to a home touchdown with a good extra point right before halftime. 

During halftime, both school bands played for seven or so minutes. My high school performed part of their competition set, which was death themed. A bit odd, perhaps, but perfectly in-line with my personal "brand." A sort of memento mori and quite moving. They played a marching band rendition of Hello by Adele -- it was perfect. 

People returned from the busy concession stand with hot chocolate and food, filing back into the bleachers to watch the third-quarter kickoff.

The home team scored two touchdowns in the third, one that made the house go wild. A punt into the endzone, caught by the rivals, fumbled, and dove on by the home team for recovery and touchdown. The press box flicked the stadium lights off and on in celebration; cheerleaders threw mini-footballs and shirts into the crowd, we were all jumping up and down and hugging each other. 

The high would soon come back down as the next kickoff would be returned by the rivals in short succession, closing the score to three points again. 

A few more touchdowns were traded in a fight to the bitter end, ultimately concluding with a three-point victory for the home team, my high school alma mater.

The band came out to celebrate, flags with the school name ran back and forth along the track, and the bleachers cleared. The student section stormed the field in great defiance. They were jumping over fences and people to greet the players and coaches. I looked over the field at the rival seating section -- it too was cleared. They were already on their way home. This night, there was no lineup of teams to shake hands. 

A beautiful autumn night. Despite all the drudgery, there are still some nice things worth experiencing and worth preserving. 

I will most certainly be back.