Cut Grass in September

Sounds of the locker room echo in my head
The screech of tape being wrapped around an ankle
Clicking of each helmet being fastened ready for battle
Our boys are ready for the fight of the night
All the sweat, all the pain, all the hard work
Tonight is payday
Across the field are the challengers with no names, and no faces
The sun begins to disappear, allowing the shadow of the press box to devour the field
And not it is time for the battle of guts for the glory of the Friday Night Lights

Whistles blow and bodies go flying
Fans cheer and in the distance babies are crying
Coaches yell and players grunt
Battling to make the other team punt
We all use this time to get together and enjoy the night
As sons, grandsons, or even great grandsons take on the fight
Quarters tick by with no ones favor in mind
And the halftime show ends allowing the kids to return to the grind
Back to blocking, tackling, passing, and doing what they can to win
Because the margin of victory can be very very thin
No matter who wins each side gives it all they got
But for those Seniors that lost, tonight was their last shot
So next time you see a coach or player wandering in town or the mall
Say hello and thank them for dedicating, to you the fan.....that Victory Ball!!!