Friday Evening 22 September
Day 13
Gentle crosswinds blew from the south while I soft pedaled east across the Texas panhandle. Still in cattle country, grassland and granaries straddled both sides of old Route 66. I didn’t notice the Burma Shave signs that Martha told me about later.
As faster riders approached I was able to catch a few action photos.
Texas High School Football
QB Ken, who played quarterback while in high school, discovered the local high school was having their homecoming game. He organized a small group to attend the event, which started at 7:30. Ken, Tom and Broh rode their bikes while I walked a mile and a half along a quiet side street. Dogs barked at me from behind chain link fences, and as I approached the school, a stream of pickups began passing me.
Locals greeted us at the gate. Clearly we were not from Shamrock so we became a mini-attraction. Everyone else knew each other.
“Welcome. Thanks for coming. Enjoy the game.”
“Best seats are to the left of the entrance on the 50 yard line. Sit there.”
The newspaper reporter took our picture and asked some questions. Tom described our trip. I guess we’ll be in the paper next week.
At the concession stand, Tom asked if they had something we couldn’t buy elsewhere. They sold him four frozen pickle pops – dill pickle juice frozen in 2 oz. cups. Incredible recovery treats.
The home team Irish Shamrocks had 23 men on the roster. Fans wearing green shirts held their index fingers high while a small band played the school song. Then after a moment of silence, both teams entered the field and everyone stood while the band played the National Anthem.
The Shamrocks dominated the first half. Each time they achieved a first down, the crowd of several hundred people cheered. When they scored a touchdown, the band played the Notre Dame Irish fight song and an ambulance at the end of the field hit the lights and siren.
Sitting in the stands, I said to myself, “Wow! I would enjoy teaching here.”
Knowing the hour was getting late for old men, I left right before halftime, not staying for the homecoming festivities. Walking back to our motel, the streets were quiet. I felt simply happy. Grateful to be on this trip, happy to be in this town. I said to myself, “I could live here.”
