Homecoming is supposed to be a time to reconnect with old friends and relive the traditions and adventures of our school days, but homecoming also has a hidden agenda – forcing us to admit that we are getting old. I am still a young man, but each time I return to my alma mater I am reminded of how much older I have gotten since I left.

Lauran and I parked behind the business school in a spot I surely parked in many times before. We were late; the bonfire was already burning down to embers. Families were already leaving. When I was a student at Baylor, I was always early to everything. I never wanted to miss a moment. I could get ready to go anywhere in five minutes. Now, I rarely am ready to leave the house in thirty minutes. Marriage has really slowed me down somehow, burdened me with responsibilities. We had to take our dog to stay with some friends. It took longer than expected (as everything seems to now). We missed the entire homecoming pep rally. My younger self would have been angry at me, but I just didn’t care. We found our friends, said hello, and took a brief stroll around campus before heading to the bed-and-breakfast we stayed in for the weekend.

As we strolled around campus, we noticed a large group headed towards the campus auditorium. I remembered that Pigskin Revue, Baylor’s popular homecoming musical show, always started after the pep rally. It was about 10:00PM. Lauran asked, “Isn’t that late? How long does it last?” I too was surprised by the lateness of the show. I rarely stay out past midnight, and we were planning to wake up early to attend the homecoming parade at 8:00AM, an ungodly hour for college students. It is one homecoming event where the alumni and their families far outnumber the students. When I was in college, I rarely went to bed before 1:00AM. Now I can’t even remember the last time I saw 1:00AM. It was probably New Year’s, and I was probably tired and cranky. Lauran doesn’t believe me when I tell her I used to stay up late all the time.

As a student, the central part of homecoming weekend for me was the football game. Baylor has a longstanding homecoming tradition of losing football games in glorious fashion. I was always a loyal fan, sitting through every losing effort, refusing to leave until the end of the game, even if the team had clearly gone home after the first quarter. I always held onto the foolish hope that the next game would be better, that the team was only a few good players away from contending, that a couple of lousy calls by the refs could be blamed for most of our losses. My friends and I used to get angry at the alumni who barely made noise as they sat on the opposite side of the stadium. We scoffed at the way they got cranky if people stood in their way. We scorned when they left after halftime. After the game got out of hand, we entertained ourselves by mocking the stodgy alumni.

Now I rarely attend Baylor sporting events. This football game is the first I have attended in two years. The last couple of times I have gone, I have sat in the alumni section. There was a time after I graduated that I still refused to sit there even if my ticket said I should. Now I prefer it to the rowdy student section because I don’t have to stand the whole time, and I don’t feel pressured to cheer loudly or scream on opponents’ third down attempts. An older man a few rows beneath us screamed at some ushers to move because they were in his way, and he didn’t want to stand up to see. I laughed when I realized I had joined the stodgy old alumni who are eternally pessimistic about Baylor football and who leave games early. We were out of the parking lot before the game was technically over, but in reality, the game was over by the end of the first quarter, par for the course at Baylor conference games.

After the game, we met with some friends at a deli in the suburbs of Waco. We didn’t want to go to the one near campus because we feared it might be too crowded and noisy. One of my friends joked, “We are going to need child care next time we get together.” There were four kids there already, and our group was only half its normal size, probably because it is getting harder for us to get together now that so many of my friends have small children. I believe the count is up to nine kids now, but honestly, I have started to lose track of them all. I watched as one of my college buddies sent his daughter to time out and then sat down and talked to her about her behavior. I still can’t believe it really happened. I am accustomed to seeing my friends feeding babies now, but it still surprises me when I see people my age having to discipline children. It wasn’t that long ago that we were the ones in need of guidance, or was it?

I have another homecoming under my belt now, and it’s probably about time for me to get a new belt because this old one doesn’t fit so well anymore. I already had to retire my trusty Baylor t-shirt that I wore faithfully every Saturday because I am convinced that it has shrunk drastically over the last couple of years. It’s Sunday. It feels like a good day for a nap.

One Response to “Homecoming and Oldgetting”

1. Brent Heraly Says:
   November 5th, 2009 at 9:47 am

   Sunday nap?!?!?! Dude your getting old!

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