To most, Homecoming is a sports game with the bonus of a dance. To me, Homecoming was a dance with the bonus of a sports game. I’d never seen a football game before. All I knew was that PHS was unusually terrible at it (based on past years’ statistics) and that the announcer was so loud I could hear him speaking from my backyard.

But this year, I wanted to go and have that typical American high school experience. I had accidentally bought two tickets to the game, so I dragged my mom along with me. When we arrived at the field fifteen minutes late, everything was already in chaos: the cheerleaders were shaking their pompoms, spectators were sitting everywhere they possibly could, and someone scored a touchdown?

I think that first touchdown made it quite clear to me how little I knew about football. In fact, about two hours of my viewing were spent just trying to figure out what I was watching.

When I finally understood, it was hard not to get sucked into the game. With every touchdown, the audience stomped; I stomped too. With every musical interlude, my heart beat a little faster. The constant stopping and starting barely even bothered me anymore.

At halftime, when the players left the field, I started to see things clearly again. How did I get so caught up in the game? How did years of disinterest vanish so quickly?

A little thought and I realized: it was all a show. The music, the roars, the crowd, the cheerleaders, the blinding lights. The commentators, the subtle digs at the other team, the row of substitute players that blocked our vision. It was like sitting in a theater box, watching something beautiful but mostly unreal. The atmosphere was what made the game; the game could not possibly stand alone.

And then I had some questions. Why football? Where is this excitement for other school sports? Why isn’t there a Homecoming for any girls’ team? Why is girls’ role during the biggest game of the school year to be cheerleaders wearing players’ names? Is this tradition worth it?

Then the lights turned back on, the music started to play, and those thoughts were pounded out of my head as if by a hammer. The fanfare was a cover, a distraction. It was hard to think but easy to cheer.

That isn’t to say that I didn’t have fun. I’m glad PHS won, and I now have a genuine interest in football. I had a great night at Homecoming. But how much of it was the game, and how much was the crazy show of it all?