Who says you can't go home again?
I did Friday night.
I also went back in time.
50 years ago, to be exact.
It was half a century ago that Oxford High School fielded its first-ever football team.
Friday night a small group of us gathered to note that little bit of history.
Some of these guys I actually had not seen since we left high school.
We are a little grayer, and a bit heavier. Although, to be honest, in my case that would not be hard to do. I was maybe 120 pounds soaking wet with all my equipment on, and I'm not a whole lot over that weight today.
The play in an actual stadium these days, under the lights, something we could only dream about 50 years ago.
But there was a definite bond forged among that group of guys.
I consider them blood brothers.
Maybe it was because we grew up in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it was surviving a week at camp where we practiced four times a day - and still had enough energy left to raise a bit of hell at night.
But I will always remember that small group of guys.
And I will always be thankful for the welcome we received in town Friday night.
Today, these kids can really play.
I'd like to think we put down the foundation for this time all those years ago.
Most Saturdays, we got our brains beat in by far more experienced, simply better teams.
But we had out moments.
50 years later, we had another one.
Hornets forever.
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