It’s every Friday night,
Seven-thirty on the dot,
It’s putting forth your best fight,
And giving it all you’ve got.
It’s listening to the band
Play that fight song that you love
It’s when you need a helping hand
And you pray for strength from up above.
It’s winning the battle,
It’s losing the war,
It’s getting back up,
It’s giving it more.
It’s fighting in the rain,
It’s surviving in the heat,
Reviewing plays in your brain,
And feeling the field under your cleats.
It’s the energy of the fans,
It’s the spirit of the cheerleaders,
It’s all the people in the stands,
And the support of the dance team members.
It’s all the moms and dads,
Cheering on all of their sons,
Giving comfort because you lost,
Or giving praise because you won.
It’s in the screaming of the managers
Standing by your sides,
It’s in the emotion of the team,
Some will laugh, and some will cry.
It’s in the heart of all the coaches,
It’s how they never will give in,
It’s in their quick advice to help you,
Because they know you want to win.
It’s in the beating of your heart,
As you start to play the game.
And how you’ll always love the sport,
Throughout the victories and pain.