Let’s Go to a Football Game, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said.

Oh, that's just what one of the younger kids said to me recently. Because why not? The school district's monstrous high school football stadium, the Pfield, is practically in our backyard. Might as well brave it, I thought.

As we ventured through the parking lot, the glaring white of the Friday night lights assaulted us like a bad hangover. The line to get in? Miles long. Apparently, this was the game of the year, the grand rivalry, and every teenager in town was desperate for a seat.

While we waited, the atmosphere was electric—or perhaps that was just the overpowering cloud of Axe body spray. I mean, you could practically choke on the hormonal fumes of over-perfumed teens. It was like being trapped in a cloud of hormonal angst.

Nearly 20 minutes later, we finally gained entry. I had the 8- and 9-year-olds with me, and of course, they insisted on sitting at the very top. Forty-two bleacher steps later, we found our spots. The game was already on, and I pointed out the score, the end zones, and the bands. That's when the 8-year-old declared he needed to pee.

"We’ve been here for two minutes," I said, clearly exasperated. "And now you tell me this?" His response? A resounding "Yes."

Down the steps, back up the steps, and we were finally settled. Only to realize I was the only one actually watching the game. According to the 9-year-old, "we’re the only ones here who aren’t on phones." Not literally, but close enough. The stadium was filled with people glued to their screens instead of the real-life action happening right in front of them.

This didn't stop the teens from emote-ing and communicating, though. The f-word was being tossed around like confetti, making me feel like I was in a scene from Catcher in the Rye. If the Axe body spray had to compete with that word, it would be as thrilling a show as the football game itself.

The boys, however, couldn’t care less about the game or the profanity. Turns out, they’re more cricket fans than football fans — the insect kind, not the sport. As night fell, crickets began to swarm around the stadium lights. My 8-year-old entomologist was mesmerized, watching the crickets dive-bomb into the stands. People’s over-the-top reactions to these insects were absolutely priceless.

While I was cheering for a kick returned for a touchdown, the boys were rooting for a high school girl frantically battling a cricket stuck in her hair. At one point, the 8-year-old was crouched like a lion, ready to pounce on a cricket behind us.

Not surprisingly, we didn't stick around for the whole game. But the boys didn't mind one bit — there were even more crickets in the parking lot.

Friday night high school football might be a vaunted tradition and a rite of passage in Texas, but let's be real: it's not exactly the best place for elementary-aged kids. Or anyone with an insect phobia.

Harris and his wife live in Pflugerville with their seven children. Please email comments or suggestions for future columns to thoughtsforcaleb@gmail.com.