A city kid’s take on football

I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I had no idea what the term “Friday Night Lights” meant until about a week ago. FNL, according to a Texas classmate of mine, is associated with high school football games that are usually played on Friday nights, and is NOT a reference to the Las Vegas nightclub and casino lights that are on on the weekends, as I originally assumed. Coming from Chicago, I never really felt the football spirit like in typical American high school movies.

Ironically, my school was founded by the late Chicago Bears running back Walter Payton, but somehow our football team still sucks. Because we were in the middle of high-rise buildings, we didn’t even have a football field. Even though football games were never regularly attended, our homecoming game usually had a good turnout – or so I heard, considering I only went once my senior year, and even then showed up in the middle games.

Homecoming, or Hoco for short, in town was an excuse to wear a short, cheap dress – I had a $15 Fashion Nova dress that I cut up 15 minutes before going out – go to the pre-event, stay for the actual Hoco dance for an hour tops. and then arrive at a random party whose theme was probably “risky business.” Since most of the people I knew in high school were city kids, I didn’t really know the football culture until I came to Yale.

Apparently, a “real” homecoming involves a week-long celebration. Students can dress up for school each day in a different silly theme. Getting a date to the dance really mattered, and every girl dreamed of being approached by a boy with a box of donuts and a sign that said, “Please donut, say no…Hoco?” The dresses were probably from Sherry Hill, and the preparations were for pre-posing for coordinated photos taken by all the parents. When my Yale peers reminisce about memories like these—ones that I never even remotely experienced—I sometimes wonder if I missed the chance to enjoy such frivolous activities, knowing that you were only in high school once. Ultimately, I still would never trade the spontaneity of having the city as my campus, where plans could be made on whim and fun, it was, in my opinion, more authentic than the more pre-packaged joys of suburban life.

From what I gather, Yale’s football culture is more in line with my high school experience than the movies, which I admit I find personally comforting. I rarely hear about football matches, and when I do, I never feel FOMO for not attending them. Of course, there is one exception: the famous Harvard-Yale game. In my opinion, the game is the only opportunity for urban and suburban kids to come together and support Yale. It’s also the perfect expose of who’s really “from the city” and who’s not – I’m talking about all you fake suburbanites who say you’re from the city when you live an hour away. I, unfortunately, won’t be attending, but to all the kids in town, just know that I’m joining you in thought as you stand there, confused, trying to figure out what the hell is going on on the field.