At the football game people transform into new creatures.

Those clean-cut, pristine women, who have dinner on the table before seven, turn into savages.

Savages who scream and yell at the top of their lungs,

They are savages whooping and hollering, jumping up and down like monkeys in cages.

The men who work all day come out tonight, only this night, Friday night.

Those men who held the positions these boys now hold.

Those men who witnessed and won countless championships won.

Those men who were happy and healthy once,

Those men who had no worries once,

Those men are here now.

They watch. They wish. They yell. They yearn. They want better.

Pound them till they are nothing but dust beneath your cleats.

Break them.  Make them lose all hope.

Take whatever hope they have and CRUSH it.

Demolish their aspirations.

We only matter. Not them. US! WE MATTER! WE WIN! WE TRIUMP!

Not them.

They don’t get that joy, they don’t deserve that joy.

They don’t matter.

The band becomes a symphony to our war cries.

The band yields to the men and women who fill the stands.

The band pounds the alarm for our team’s success and victory. 

The band reacts to our every beck and call.

At football game, we are who we aren’t,

We are who we used to be,

We are who the other team isn't.

At the football game,  

WE ARE FOOTBALL.