There is something almost mythical about Friday Night Lights. Football occupies its own cultural lane in America — stadiums often full, crowds roaring, games that feel both spectacular and consequential. Those moments stay with athletes for the rest of their lives, especially when the memories are good. Basketball offers a version of this, though usually on a smaller scale.
I played in front of packed gyms while at Robinson in the early 1980s — mostly away gyms, since ours was cavernous — and I had my own brief season in the sun. People would stop me to talk about the game. For a few months, basketball made me more visible than I really was. These were ordinary teenage moments, but they glowed.
As we move toward next week’s state playoffs in soccer, it’s wonderful to see these athletes getting their own version of that glow — the attention, the noise, the social-media buzz, the chance to make history in a way that feels both memorable and meaningful.
The players and teams still alive are experiencing something rare. They are playing soccer at a level that would have seemed almost unimaginable back in the cold of March, when chemistry was still forming, tactics were still settling, and lineups were still shifting. High school players make real commitments. The best of them juggle club obligations, AP exams, prom, graduation parties, beach-week plans, and college preparation.
And yet, for the fortunate few, the reward is a stage they may never see again.
Many Division III and even some Division I programs play in front of a few dozen spectators. These kids are playing in front of hundreds — and feeling every bit of it.
The athletes still playing are the ones who have outlasted the calendar.
At Madison’s match, legendary Warhawks football coach Justin Counts showed up at an away game to support the soccer team. Herndon’s defending state champions, eliminated earlier by Madison, were there too. Former Westfield stars, including Division I standout Michael Dessalyn, came to watch. Even players like Ethan O’Connor and Reyes Torres — who compete at an elite level year-round — may never again experience a stage quite like this.
Imagine being a Madison player, still dancing in June while the school’s powerhouse baseball team has already packed up for next year. That is part of what makes the stage feel so large. With each passing round, more seasons end, more seniors walk away for the last time, and the spotlight grows brighter for the few teams still standing.
I remember going to the state tournament as a teenager and watching my sister and the Robinson Rams win two state championships. Later, following basketball, I would stay in the host city and watch future stars carrying the hopes of their communities with them. Many went on to higher levels. But the intensity of a state run — the crowds, the noise, the sense of shared purpose — is hard to match. Even a regional run in basketball was enormous in my day. Playing in front of nearly 6,000 fans at Robinson felt like stepping into another world.
The area teams that qualified this year have stories worth telling. Lake Braddock’s girls, stunned in last year’s regionals after a dominant season, returned to win the region even without Sophia Henry, the Patriot Conference Rookie of the Year at West Point. West Potomac’s boys, upset in districts after winning the regular season, clawed their way through a play-in game and then captured the regional title. Their photos on social media are captivating. Westfield, after graduating its entire defense and a Division I midfield, fought its way to a regional championship and a state berth. Riverside’s girls, long overshadowed by the school’s powerhouse boys program, are going to state as well.
They are still dreaming. Still making memories. And the crowds keep growing.
My son Chandler played in the midfield for Yorktown in the 2021 state final, announced in the starting lineup before a thousand people at Hylton. It’s a memory he will never forget. Imagine if the Patriots had won. We watch movies about state runs — Friday Night Lights, Hoosiers, McFarland, USA — but winning a state championship is something else entirely.
After Westfield’s historic week — finally breaking through, qualifying for states, and winning the region — the players knelt together in prayer on the field.
It was a moment that said everything.
As a former athlete who loves high school sports, I know how rare these moments are. Most athletes never get a season in the sun.
That is what makes it precious.
I hope these players savor every moment of theirs.
(Photos by tylerp_visuals and migi_visuals on IG)