On Friday nights, one trail of curiosity led to the football field. There, we were presented with one of countless “You mean, I can grow up to do that someday?” lessons. At halftime, I stood on the hill to watch them run in and out of the warming house of the outdoor skating rink, which also served as the football locker room. White pants with maroon-and-gold stripes. Maroon jerseys with gold, embroidered numbers. Jersey numbers stickered on the sides of the helmets, just like that team down in Alabama. It looked like fun. Would I ever become big enough—good enough—to wear one of those uniforms?
