Friday, September 25, 2026. By kickoff, the heat was finally making its slow retreat into the 80s, a welcome change from our first game four weeks earlier. Glen Rose red and white filled one side of the field, Robinson blue the other. Put them together and the whole stadium looked patriotic enough to make you stand up and take your hat off. I noticed a few fewer faces in the stands this week. From what I’ve heard, whatever’s been going around had kept a lot of folks home. Still, there were plenty of Tigers there, and you could hear Glen Rose loud and proud. And our flags were back! People have asked me why we haven’t had flag runners. The honest answer is that getting kids to commit from one year to the next has been tough. Thanks to Jeremy Littlejohn, though, we officially have a crew, and it was good to see those flags moving again Friday night. I’ve tried for years to get my original idea off the ground: a school flag runner program that can keep going as kids graduate. Look around at other schools. A lot have cheerleaders or high school students running their flags, and some have full programs with tryouts. We could do that here. Anybody want to head it up? In the words of our kids, let’s gooooo! Anyone want to talk football? I smell something fishy going on... The first half gave us plenty to cheer about. There was good, hard ball carrying, great passing and receptions, and a perfectly placed ball in the end zone for a touchdown that got me up and doing the "Dougie". We went into halftime up 28–21, and I was having a ball. I couldn’t wait to see what our boys would do when they came back out. That is where this story takes a troubling turn. We know the coaches had something to say in the locker room. I’m sure they talked about what was working and what needed to happen next. But when did the coaches leave? Were the boys ever alone? Did anybody notice a humming sound, a flash of light, or a player asking where Earth keeps its Gatorade? These are questions somebody ought to be asking, because the team that came out for the third quarter looked an awful lot like ours, but I remain unconvinced. My theory is that aliens slipped in at halftime, took our players, and left clones in their place. They got the uniforms right. They got the helmets right. From the stands, you wouldn’t have suspected a thing. Then the third quarter started, Robinson put up 35 points, and the whole operation fell apart. I don’t know where the real Tigers were taken, but I’d like somebody to check behind the visitor bleachers for a spacecraft before we close this case. I know what you’re thinking. Losing builds character. There’s no “I” in team. Everybody gather around, hold hands, and enjoy a juice box while we discuss what this experience taught us. Sure. But once we’re done with the juice boxes, we need to pull up our big boy pants. Robinson took control of that game, and we have to learn from how quickly it happened. We’re going to have key players go down. Every year we do. Sometimes they come back, and sometimes they don’t. Nobody gets to pause the season until they return. The first half showed what these boys can do together. The next step is doing it together when the game turns against them. That takes every guy trusting the one beside him, every play, even after the last one goes wrong. We have a hill to climb this week and another one right behind it. Buckle up, wipe the tears, and get to work. I’ll keep investigating what happened in that locker room, because I’d prefer our actual players make the trip to Midland Greenwood. Let's go boys, go find your way!