I am not one for sports. Spending hours watching my fellow students toss themselves and assorted equipment across a field for arbitrary points or rare victory always struck me as the polar opposite of fun. So, for three-odd years at East, I successfully avoided attending a single sporting event.
That is, until Oct. 10, when finally I ended up spectating a Chapel Hill vs. East football game. I was really just there to see a friend in the marching band, but I wasn’t about to spend $8 on a football ticket without enjoying $8 worth of football.
I showed up at CHHS about 15 minutes late and immediately became lost. After passing by a number of decidedly non-football sports fields, I wandered onto a trail in the woods. In the distance, I heard the shouts and drumming of a game just underway.
Having entirely circumnavigated the football field, I finally arrived at my destination. My ticket failed to load on my phone, but they let me in anyway.
There were the players, linemen, quartersback and whatnot, already engaged in their struggle; and there beyond them were the bleachers. I waved at my marching band friend and took a seat among the crowd.
For a metal bench on fall’s first cold day, I found my spot surprisingly comfortable. Something about being away from the pressure of homework and college apps, just mindlessly enjoying a meaningless contest with my fellow Wildcats, didn’t seem so bad.
Only problem was, I wasn’t actually with my fellow Wildcats. In my hurry to get to the game, I’d wound up sitting on the Chapel Hill side of the field.
So, for the rest of the crisp blue evening, I was a Tiger, surrounded by strangers, forgetting about everything for a few hours to bask in the strange splendor of the pigskin sport.
Photo by Hammond Cole Sherouse/The ECHO
