… a football game or another fall sport.
As a former high school band member, I attended a lot of football games.
The sight catches me first. The artificial lights attempting to burn away the night, too harsh to be real or too give warmth. Then the noise, all the voices ebbing and flowing, like a tide, changing from murmurs to roars depending on the success of the teams. The crisp air traces red on my cheeks.
But nothing send me back to my high school days like the smell of a game — fried food and cigarettes, smells so strong I can almost taste the grease and smoke.
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