My husband, George James of the blog Thinking Things Over, wrote a touching story of football, dreams, and the journey to follow those dreams.
I grew up in a small town along the Ohio River where high school football was a big event on Friday nights. My house was four short blocks down the hill from the high school stadium.
I remember, as a young boy around five or six years old, standing on the sidewalk in front of my house on a crisp Friday night and looking up the street at the lights of the stadium. I could hear the band playing, the crowd screaming, and the comments being made on the public address system. I really did not understand what was going on, but I knew that I wanted to be there.
One night my grandfather took me up the street to the stadium. I remember my excitement as the lights got brighter and the sounds louder. We worked our way along the side of the stadium until we got to the…
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