Joe L. HUGHES II LEDGER STAFF WRITER If football was a drug, I would have overdosed last weekend.

Having the opportunity to attend three games — each featuring at least one of South Carolina’s top programs on the gridiron — was a one-of-a-kind opportunity a football fanatic like myself could not pass up.

My father always told me at a young age that I should marry a woman with similar interests, namely sports. Honestly, sports is my calendar; athletic events used to indicate the changing of seasons, like football’s soon return and baseball’s departure in the next two months marking the arrival of fall.

Of course, Mother Nature has not got the memo yet, with temperatures still hovering well above 90 degrees.

Now back to my father’s advice, of which yours truly did not listen.

Being in love teaches you sometimes there are times we must give up certain wants and needs for that significant other. Of course, relationships require time, which can sometimes be a difficulty when two people with separate agendas come together.

But when certain shows come on — i.e. WWE Monday Night Raw, and the three days of wall-towall football coverage — don’t ask whether I can go to a play. I’m busy.

It’s never that easy, though. These women know how to tug at our (that’s us fellas) heartstrings, virtually changing our plans with a simple bat of the eyes and a smile.

Sometimes I feel so used, being broken down for someone else’s amusement; but if mama isn’t happy, no one will be ... and I need my sleep.

With that in mind, my wife will not be seeing this column ... I hope.

Last Friday marked her first Gaffney football game after all these years, an experience she thoroughly enjoyed. In fact, she had mentioned the game to me weeks ahead, somewhat based on the Indians’ and Dorman’s notoriety for perennially being two of the Palmetto State’s top teams in addition to the intense rivalry between the proud programs.

The atmosphere at the stadium was beyond electric for the contest, the only one comparable in my opinion was Gaffney’s state championship tussle with Summerville in 2005. Unlike the game nearly five years ago, however, the Cavaliers proved too much for the home town Tribe to handle, winning the game 21-12.

It was Dorman’s second win at “The New Reservation,” the rivals from Roebuck also winning Gaffney’s first contest at the stadium in 2008.

Fans of the Indians need not hang their heads just yet, as though championships are earned during summer practice through work and dedication, they are not won until the first week of December. That matters less to them though, every game providing fuel for conversations, putting the performance of players and coaches under a microscope, scrutinizing every play.

While such “fandom” is seen as an annoyance to some, I welcome such conversation; whether the person knows what they are talking about or not. Simply caring means a lot to a high school football player.

Most kids grow up wanting to someday play for the high school team in their hometown, the 3- to 4- year span providing a true once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to play in front of thousands of friends and family members. The goal is to eventually play in front of crowds numbering in excess of 100,000 people and games broadcast to millions more; but aside from prom and graduation, nothing compares to the football season.

Probably more important than the adoration and love yielding by fans and friends in the community is the love and admiration passed down from coaches. Having the opportunity to every once in a while brush shoulders with professional athletes back in my hometown of Columbia — some of whom have participated in Super Bowls and other major sporting events— more crucial to life than the skills and talents learned while getting better at their craft pale in comparison to the life lessons passed on by high school coaches.

Ask any high school football player — past and present — most will tell you how important these men have been to their lives, sometimes serving as a father to those for whom a father figure was absent.

Someone once told me football is the perfect sport, teaching boys how to become men.

Only seeing the physical part of the game, what spectators miss is the camaraderie among players. Choosing to remember coaches for their yelling or constant demanding of more from players, these men ask the kids to pay attention to detail — wanting the closest thing to perfection from them.

If anything, this teaches the teenage athletes — the heirs to this nation and world — never to settle for anything less than the best.

Now, if I only could get a life coach to help keep me out of the doghouse ... help anyone?

Joe L. Hughes II (joe@gaffneyledger.com0 writes feature and enterprise stories for The Gaffney Ledger.