West Texas Friday Nights

It's time. Time to dust off the cleats. Time to grab the stadium chairs and cowbells. Time to fill plastic jugs full of pennies. Time to revolve our lives around something besides work, school, television, shopping. Time to believe that camping out all night for something isn't crazy. Time to believe that this could be the year. Time to paint our faces. Time to stock up on bug spray. Time to use words that we haven't used in a while: yellowhammers, pied pipers, blizzards, indians, cougars, eagles, badgers, bulldogs, and even bears. Time to fight for parking. Time to eat frito pies, sausage wraps, and nachos with extra jalapeños. Time to savor the glory of victory, and despise the agony of defeat. Time for our young heroes to run out of giant inflatable objects. Time for shoe polish on windows. Time for pep rallys. Time for kickoff, halftime, and really really loud horns after touchdowns. Time for FNL. Time to dig into the trenches. Time to go over the middle. Time to run the "Dirty Bird". Time for the cross-town showdown. Time to fight for extra yards. Time to believe in the impossible. Time to ride on the yellow dog. Time to turn on the lights that have been dimmed for 8 excruciating months, sit back, do anything but relax, and enjoy the show. It's time, for football.