Autumn in Iowa often provides the perfect weather for the opening week. Whether there is still a faint notion of summer's humidity holding on in the air or a cool breeze to let you know that winter is well on its way, the air is always comforting as it enters your lungs. It is often complemented with the sweet smells of barbecued treats and popcorn wafting out to welcome spectators to the night's event.
As you approach stadium, there are parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles - and many others without current blood ties to the team - all decked out in sweatshirts and caps in their team's colors. You walk among them and all of you watch out for the children running to chase their friends. They simply still have the energy and innocence to express their excitement for the evening that we older folks don't.
The reasons behind the adults' fandom can vary. Maybe they've got someone special on the team, in the band or cheering on the sidelines. Maybe they are just filled with community pride, or a desire to see a great display of sportsmanship. Maybe they have had their time on the field and are trying to relive their glory days. All that matters is that they are there to support the young people.
As a reporter, stepping onto that sideline is always a fantastic feeling. Your position for the evening might be separated from the fans, by and large, but you're never above or distanced from the crowd. Not when you're covering one of your home teams.
Your team - including the players, coaches, managers, trainers, etc. - soon join you on the sidelines. From the moment the ball is kicked off, you're right there with them. Not just physically, but emotionally.
You feel the joy of every big gain. You feel the pain of the powerful tackles. Your hope floats along with the ball as it soars through the air after leaving the quarterback's hands. When that receiver catches the ball - whether he gets a long run afterward or not - your fist pumps along with the boys in uniform alongside you.
The game of football always has its ups and downs. Sometimes there are those games you know you're going to win or you know you're going to lose. But there is always the thrill of the game, the joy of being there and watching these young people grow and mature regardless of the outcome.
It's those tight games that especially get you. You look at the young faces on the sidelines and see these kids' passions hanging on every down. Your focus may shift to a coach's face and soon discover that there is no difference between what they are going through and what their players are.
Sometimes you're going through it as well and you don't take as many opportunities to be the observer you are supposed to be. In my opinion, those are the games that bring out the best in a sports reporter. There are few answers to seek nor perspectives to gain because you already know them. The more time you spend on a sideline with a specific team, the easier it is to share these feelings.
With darkness surrounding the beacon of light the stadium has become under the lights, the chill of the fall always takes hold. Always.
The teams have shaken hands and retired to either end of the field for their respective coach's post-game talk. Behind you, those rambunctious little ones have given up the fight and are lost in dreamland on a parent's shoulder. Those sporting the hometown gear, depending on the outcome, are either jubilant or morose. But they are all beaming with pride for what their young people have done over four quarters.
When the coaches have had their say, the players make their way to mingle with the crowd or choose to head for the locker room to whatever Friday night plans they may have.
The end of the night means one less week in an already short season, but many more memories made to cherish and stories to be shared for the next week in coffee shops, homes and other gathering places as the countdown begins to next Friday's kickoff.
