George Ferguson Column: This night was high school football as it was meant to be

No matter where you’re from, no matter what state you live in, and no matter the size of the community, if you love sports, then you probably spend your Friday night’s in the fall at a football field somewhere.

Make no mistake, high school football on a Friday night is as American as apple pie.

And Montana is no exception.

The exception however, is the uniqueness which some schools have as it pertains to football. Montana is one of just four states in the U.S. that still plays six-man football, and the Treasure State has the second-most schools playing six-man in the country, with only Texas having more.

And if you’re school is playing the six-man game, it means that your community is small. It’s the kind of place where everybody knows everybody. It’s the kind of town where people have been taking the morning cups of coffee in the same place for generations on end. It’s the kind of community where the colors donned by the school represent pride, honor and tradition.

Luckily, we have a few of those great communities in our area. And I visited one such place last Friday night, and once again, I was reminded just how truly lucky we are to have the kind of high school football we have in these parts.

Just picture it.

A football field in a warm and beautiful Friday night. The small grandstands are full on both sides, and all around the field, people stand, sit in lawn chairs, take photos and cheer. Behind each endzone, the next generation of football players in that community are playing touch football while the kids they look up to battle it out on the gridiron just a few feet away.

The kids in the band are pumped to be playing for the fans and for the teams. There’s a smell of hot dogs and hot chocolate in the air. Nervous parents with big buttons of their player’s faces pinned to their chest can’t sit still, hanging on every play that happens on the field. There’s cars all around, there’s buses in the parking lot and the lights from above shine bright on the whole scene.

Then there’s the setting, the backdrop. The Bear Paw Mountains rise above and seem to run right into the rolling wheat fields that are all around, or vice versa. The mighty Missouri River is not far away, and the beauty of the land is in perfect harmony with a bright-red sunset and a rising moon.

In fact, if you look real hard, you can still see a place where bears, wolves and bison once roamed free, and may have come to feed, right in the very place where a football game is being contested.

Make no mistake, that’s a typical high school football Friday night in Montana, and with all due respect to the rest of the union, there’s really nothing else like it.

And that’s the exact setting I was right in the middle of Friday night in Big Sandy as the Pioneers took on the Valier Panthers. It was high school football in Montana at its poetic best. It was one of those nights that really can’t ever be reproduced or fully explained, yet, they happen over and over in Montana every fall, in cities as big as Billings, to tiny rural settings from Wibaux to Hot Springs and all points in between.

On this night in Big Sandy, the Pioneers didn’t win, but it doesn’t change everything that’s beautiful about high school football in this neck of the woods. There was the scenery, a postcard type of night in Big Sky Country, there were purple and gold fans of all generations, cheering their hearts out for the home team. And there were two teams, made of teenagers, doing everything they could to help their team win. They played their hearts out, not for money or fortune, not because they have to earn a living, and not even for glory or fame, but simply because they love football, they love their school and they love their community.

Yes, Friday night in Big Sandy was one of those nights when football was being played at its absolute purest.

I don’t get to cover as many high school football games as I used to. It’s the evolution of my job. But I was certainly glad I made the 35-mile drive south to Big Sandy Friday night. It was the reminder I needed, it was a refreshing change of pace, and as I got back in the car to head back to Havre, the few hours I spent in Pioneer country once again made me realize why I love doing what I do.

And it also once again showed why there’s really nothing more special in Montana than a high school football game on a Friday night.