"Who said they could beat the Chiefs?"
Friday nights seem so bland with the absence of a football game. Artsy face paint, rumbling bleachers, and the echo of cheers fill the void of school sprit after a long week of educational endeavors. If you would have asked me my Junior year, before my first football game, how I felt about high school football I would have given you a blank stare full of ignorance. Now, after last year's fall season, I find myself anticipating the Friday nights of my senior year.
Behind the chaos of the student section lies each and every hyped tribe member. The seniors chanting in the freshman’s faces, the guys with their chests painted saying ‘C-H-I-E-F-S’ that now looks like ‘H-F-E-S-I-C’, and that one freshman girl who keeps screaming bloody murder for a free tee-shirt. In these moments it does not matter who you are or who you socialize with, we are the excitement behind our team, we are the chiefs.
There is something so rare that a Kickapoo High School football game introduces; unity. Whether there are 12 minutes left in the game or 8.2 seconds the student section remains engaged and enthusiastic. As the time zeros out and the intense game comes to an end the stands begin to quiver as students start escaping to rush the field. We chant in unison, radiate happiness, and for a moment we are one.
We are the chiefs; that one tribe that seems to have a cheer for everything even if it is incoherent (free the whale), that one tribe who will drive three hours to support their team, and that one tribe that will begin chanting before the cheerleaders. If there is one thing I will take with me when I leave high school it will be that I was proud to be a Kickapoo Chief.
“Who said, who said?”
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