I have been in Chicago for four years, and have missed Cougar football. The Bears did not have much excitement to offer.

The first football game I remember was PCHS-Heritage 1980, at City Stadium, in Lynchburg. I remember standing under the press box on the visitors side when Curtis Bland threw two consecutive passes to Blake Farlow to win the game for the Cougars as time expired. I cheered so much that I woke up hoarse the next day. Cheering did seem to matter, even when it seemed there was not enough time for our team’s efforts to be important. Victory was not out of reach, and the Cougar determination to try to fulfill hope was rewarded with a win. I have seen many entertaining Cougar games since then.

Last fall, my enthusiasm for the sport of football was humbled. My cousin called me in Chicago to tell me the news on my answering machine. "Something happened at the game tonight, call me." I was told that Lee Cook had to be carried off the football field. He died that night. I have heard that he was a kind person. His friends miss him, and I am sad that I never met him.

When I have experienced loss in my life, I did not feel up to giving my best effort. It was a challenge for me to have courage. Last year, courage took on new meaning for Lee’s teammates. They put their helmets on two weeks later and played on the same field. They fought their way back to win games that seemed lost. I should think to do as much to give my best effort in the face of adversity.

I look forward to following the team this year. Hopeful people are the kind I want to be with to share the joy and pain of life. Cougar fans have a spirit of hope.