When I was a teenager, going to high school football games was the highlight of the week.

I was in the pep squad, and we cheered on the Baker Buffaloes from wooden stands on Friday nights. We memorized hand signals and cheers and erupted into screaming applause when one of our players made a huge play.

As an added bonus, whenever we made a touchdown, the buffalo on the wooden scoreboard would snort smoke from its nose. Yes, football in a small town was exciting and memorable.

Later, we had season tickets to Louisiana State University football games, and those games are as clear to me today as they were 30 years ago.

Charles “Charlie Mac” McClendon was the head coach, and we all held our breath when the “Golden Band from Tigerland” marched on the field before every game, snapped their instruments into place and played four notes.

Instantly, thousands of fans were on their feet, cheering the Tigers, sticking with them through thick and thin.

The LSU stadium is nicknamed “Death Valley” although I thought the name “Deaf Valley” was a better one. The cheers were so loud, you couldn’t hear the person next to you, even if they screamed into your ear.

I learned the different penalty signals and grew to appreciate a collective “boo” whenever the refs made a bad call. For LSU fans, that was every single time the Tigers received a penalty.

Their rivalries with Ole Miss and Alabama remain legendary, and I vividly remember one match up against Alabama when we got drenched but stayed the whole time because the game was so exciting.

I thought about those days while watching Monday Night Football with my eldest son. He and his brother have Fantasy Football teams, and they watch games differently than we did back in the days of the Steelers.

The internet defines fantasy football as “selecting real players to create fake teams that earn points based on real players’ performances on the field. If your fake team scores more points than other people’s fake team, you win (and get to rub it in their face on Tuesday morning).”

That definition comes nowhere close to how complicated fantasy football is. Even after numerous explanations, I’m still not sure how it works except one doesn’t cheer for a team. You bet on individual players.

My son tried to explain the process, and he probably thought he was watching the game with a first-grader.

“So what team are you pulling for,” I asked as I sat down.

“Neither one,” he said, his phone in his hand. “I’ve got players on both sides.”

He showed me this complicated table on his phone with percentages, numbers and names.

My mind wandered and I remembered becoming a fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers back in the 1970s.

There was a young, brash Terry Bradshaw who broke all the conventional rules. The Steelers had the powerful Franco Harris and “Mean Joe” Greene. They were unstoppable, and it didn’t matter that we lived in Louisiana. The Steelers were my team, and that team won the Super Bowl.

I know fantasy football is complicated fun and perhaps the individual is more important than the team these days.

But…

I wouldn’t trade one minute of sitting in Death Stadium, one hour of cheering on the Baker Buffaloes or the love I still have for the Steelers for all the digital numbers on an iPhone.

For me, it’s all about the team.

I still believe in the Texans, the Cowboys – yes, you can like both – and I pray LSU beats Alabama until the end of time.

For this football fan, the team is ultimately more important than the individual.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.