There's still the crazy coach that's screaming from the sidelines, hoping his team will do the amazing play he personally designed. Of course the team can barely do a pick and roll, has absolutely no defense, but the coach is still a-screamin'...
There's the band--oh, lord please help the band--who just don't have a clue. They'll still be strumming along to their own tune, have greasy hair (not all, but the kids I saw did...no offense), and just be those band geeks.
There's the teenaged couple in the stands that when you look at them, they make no sense. And then they start to suck each other's face and you can't help but throw-up just a little bit in your mouth. Eww.
There's the over-zealous parent who thinks his kid is the next NBA star, when the child can barely make a basket. I can only pray the kid is able to live up to those unrealistic expectations that are imposed upon him by a parent that is living vicariously through him.
There's the kid on the court that keeps looking up at the stands, searching the crowd, hoping that one of his parents will show up for tonight's game. "Where are you?" is filling up his eyes as the disappointment sets in.
There's the star on the team, who gets all the accolade, even when he's not making jack tonight.
There's the silly girls in the stands that just want to have fun, dance along with the band, and gawk at all the cute guys.
There's the adolescent boy who praying to hit puberty someday, and stares at all the girls that he dreams will one day stare back his way.
There's the nerds with their book bags spilling over, the jocks with their athletic attitudes, the misfits donned all in black, the teachers trying to keep order or keep score or keep up, the poms girls trying to find the beat of the music, the score keeper pressing numbers, and the ref making another bad, bad call.
And then there's me. Sitting high in the stands, just taking it all in. I loved high school. I loved being the jock and contemplating plays with my team. I loved being in the stands cheering like a crazy person. I loved the adrenaline, the crowd, the pressure. I loved the music that pumped me up before a game, provided consolation after a loss, the means of celebration following a win. I loved studying in the gym on the stage or in the stands with my friends. I loved eating those hot dogs, Snickers, Doritoes, and Mountain Dew. I loved seeing my mom in the stands cheering me on at every game. I loved that high school romance that made this teenage girl feel special. I hated the ref--they never called it right.