An East Coast Schlub at Friday Night Lights

Numerous Journal readers suggested Friday night football games around the U.S., which seemed like a fun, iconic idea. But it was hard to settle on a venue. In the end, I figured if we were really going to do “Friday Night Lights,” we ought to go big or go home—and get to Texas, to one of the largest high school football showcases there is.

The Allen Eagles, if you need an intro, are the No. 1 ranked high school football team in Texas. They are No. 2 in the nation, according to the MaxPreps Xcellent 25 Poll. They have not lost a game since 2016. They collect state championships by the bushel. Current Oklahoma star quarterback Kyler Murray is an Allen grad.

They also know the home field: Eagle Stadium, opened in 2012, a shimmering football cathedral that seats 18,000 and cost an eye-popping $60 million. That’s a fraction of what it cost to build Jerry Jones’s Jerryworld down the road—and Allen’s field has now been eclipsed by a $70 million stadium built in nearby McKinney—but it still gets offered as evidence of high school sports gone wild.

For me, a trip to Eagle Stadium is like setting foot on Mars. I went to a high school where we were lucky to get 30 people and a dog at a football game. At Allen, there are more than 700 students in the band. The stadium has an elevator and a windowed press box. There’s a handsome merchandise booth (Allen Eagles Nike Sweatshirt: $50). The concessions sell Chick-fil-A.

It’s a lavish slice of high school football heaven, and tonight it’s packed. Honestly, I may never leave.

“It’s the biggest thing,” Reya Lakhani, a sophomore, tells me.

This is the Eagles’ second-to-last regular season game, against Prosper High School. Prosper’s nickname is also the Eagles, which makes for some mild pre-game confusion when the clubs both dash from pro-style inflatable raptor heads. Each team is bigger than a lot of countries’ Olympic delegations. The coaches are stern-faced and serious. There are multiple reporters here.

Allen High School dancers wait to perform during halftime. PHOTO: COOPER NEILL FOR THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

I know: Welcome to Texas football, buddy. I sound like a real East Coast knucklehead, don’t I? Until 20 minutes ago, I had no idea what the difference was between the cheerleaders and a drill team (dance-based cheering) and the color guard (flag-based cheering). It’s also homecoming weekend; There are couples everywhere walking around draped in flowers and ribbons. A pair of students take pity on my confusion and explain “mums,” the homecoming tradition of couples wearing elaborate floral arrangements and garters.

“This is a Texas thing,” a student named Trenton Christensen tells me. He’s originally from Idaho, where high school football isn’t played at this sort of scale. “I’m pretty used to it [now],” he says.

I should probably talk about the game. Allen does not lose at Eagle Stadium. I’m not saying this hyperbolically. They’ve literally never lost in the place. Prosper is good, but can’t mount a serious challenge. Allen quarterback Grant Tisdale—he’s committed to Ole Miss—has 174 yards passing, 156 rushing, and accounts for four touchdowns. The starters are long gone by the fourth quarter. Allen rolls 54-21. The crowd is buoyant but used to this. Playoffs beckon. It’s championship or bust.

(A quick aside: Whenever I am in Texas and see how crazed the region is for football, it underlines what a crime against humanity it is that the Dallas Cowboys are so continuously mediocre. Dallas having mediocre professional football is the equivalent of New York City having mediocre pizza. It is an insult to the natural balance of the universe and needs to be immediately fixed.)

I still can’t get over the Allen band. When I hear the halftime announcer say there are 740 people in the band, I think it’s a joke. It isn’t a joke. It looks like an army, capable of invading a small country with xylophones and tubas.

The Allen High School marching band performs during the game. PHOTO: COOPER NEILL FOR THE WALL STREET JOURNAL

In the second half, I spend some time on the sideline with Tim Carroll, who is the chief information officer for the Allen Independent School District. Tim’s originally from New Jersey. He must smell the East Coast wafting off of me. “A lot of people up north don’t get it,” he says, chuckling. Allen is the only high school in Allen, population 100,600; the high school enrollment is 6,400. Nine thousand people have season tickets, Carroll says. Carroll also talks about how many students are actively involved in tonight’s game—between the band and the team and the video crews and other, various roles, it’s about 1,000 students, he says.

“One town, one school, one community,” is the mantra that Allen’s head coach, Terry Gambill, gives me after the game, when he’s gathered the Eagles inside their indoor training facility (!) and announced to loud cheering that they have Saturday morning off.

From the outside, Allen might look like the Team With the Crazy Stadium, but “the heart and soul of program is the community,” Gambill says. “It’s about the people.”

And Friday Night high school football?

“There’s nothing like it,” Gambill says.

Nowhere more so than in Allen, Texas.