It’s Friday night. Stadium lights pop on; Bam, bam, bam! The roar of chaos slowly approaches. My breath swirls through the cool night air in intricate little wisps all around me. Sitting on the cold metal of the bleachers, I feel the rumble of people walking and running. Paradise City blares through enormous speakers. Shortly after, the song becomes masked by whistles blowing, helmets colliding, kids shouting, and hundreds of people yelling to let the world know which team they’re for. The announcer begins to speak. The crowd stills, eager to hear his cheesy joke of the week. All of which lead up to him telling about his favorite food from the concession stand, Frito pie. That’s when it hits. The smells of the Frito pie, along with the scents that come with grilling, are suddenly with me. I can already imagine the hot, greasy, meaty, crunchy mixture of chili and Fritos in my mouth, followed by salty popcorn and hot chocolate. Elbow to elbow, people gather to watch not a game, but a way of life. Emotions are contagious with these people. They all share a mixture of excitement and anxiety so thick that anyone within a mile could feel it in this crisp fall night air. Who are these people? WE are fans-football fans. And this is Friday night football at Batesville Pioneer Stadium.
