Down here in the South, our year is not divided into four seasons. It’s divided into two. Football season & waiting for football season.
Once that first game hits, our weekends settle into a rhythm. Saturdays are for college ball. Period. Non-negotiable. Mall runs, birthday parties, weddings, baby showers… all that better work around kickoff. Then Sunday rolls in & that’s NFL time, but let’s be honest. Half the reason we watch is to see what “our” college boys are doing under the big lights.
We’re just built different about this stuff.
It Starts With Pee Wee And Proud Parents
Southern football doesn’t begin in high school. It starts when the helmet looks bigger than the child wearing it.
Picture a dusty little field. Tiny jerseys, shoulder pads crooked, one kid crying because his sock is “wrong,” and another one chasing a butterfly instead of the ball.
Now look at the sidelines.
Sometimes there are more daddies on the sidelines than actual coaches. Every one of them convinced that if the head coach would just listen to their “suggestions,” this pee wee team would be headed straight to a national championship.
Then you have the mommas. Lord help us, the mommas.
“Come on little Johnny. You take that boy down. Make him eat dirt!”
They’re yelling like it’s the Super Bowl and their baby is on a million dollar contract. I’m not mad about it. I loved it. I just never took it quite that seriously with my boys.
I wanted them to play, to hustle, to try hard, but I never wanted their whole identity to be wrapped up in what happened on a field before they even hit puberty.

For me, pee wee football was about the real stuff:
🏈 Learning how to be part of a group
🏈 Listening to a coach Showing true team spirit
🏈 Learning how to lose without falling apart
🏈 Building friendships that last long after the helmets are packed away
Because let’s be real. Very few kids go on to play in college. Even fewer ever sniff the NFL. But the lessons they learn showing up to practice, sweating in the heat, high-fiving their buddies after a good play… those stick forever.
Saturday Is Sacred: College Football In The South
If you want to understand the South, don’t start with a history book. Start with a Saturday in the fall.
The air cools off just a little. Someone fires up the grill in the driveway. Every TV in the house is on, even the one nobody really uses. People are in their team colors from the minute they wake up.
I love Saturdays because I get to be a little bit chaotic with my loyalties.
I love watching Bama. I love watching Georgia. I love watching Notre Dame.
Yes. All three. Shut up. I can love them all.
I’ve got my SEC heart, my Southern roots & then there’s just something about Notre Dame that has always grabbed me. Call it the tradition. Call it nostalgia. Call it my Yankee educated brain showing out. Either way, I’ll have them all on if I can.
And if you’ve ever sat inside one of those big college stadiums on a fall Saturday, you know there is nothing like it:
📣 The band coming out
📣 The roar that hits when the team runs through the tunnel
📣 The way 90,000 people suddenly agree on one thing for three hours
You feel it in your chest more than your ears. For just a little while, strangers become family. You love everybody in your section as long as they’re wearing your colors & yelling for your boys.



Sunday Shifts: NFL Day… Kind Of
Now Sunday comes around & the vibe changes. Church clothes. Crockpots. Sofas. RedZone. The whole thing.
And for me, Sunday is simple.
I am a STEELERS girl.
Nothing else.
Ever.
That black and gold has my whole NFL heart & that’s just not up for debate.
Now, I’ll admit I’ve strayed here & there for special reasons. I watched the Falcons when Victor played for them. I’ll pull up a Panthers game to see Trevor Lawrence, because hometown boys have a way of making you care about a team you’d otherwise ignore.

We watch those games to see our college favorites grow up.
The kid we watched at Bama or Clemson or Georgia suddenly has a different uniform and a bigger paycheck, but in our heads he’s still “our” kid. We yelled for him on Saturdays, so we’re going to yell for him on Sundays too.
And then there’s Jalen Hurts. As much as I love that boy, I refuse to watch the Eagles. I just cannot do it. I will never be caught hollering for that team. But you better believe I’m quietly cheering him on from my little corner. ROLL TIDE!



The Heart Of It All
When you strip away the screaming & trash talk & the “bless your heart, your team is terrible this year,” football in the South is really about connection.
It’s about:
❤️ Granddaddies teaching little ones how to throw a spiral
❤️ Cousins piled up on the couch with snack bowls in their laps ❤️ Friends texting all day with play-by-play reactions
❤️ Families planning reunions around schedules & bye weeks
Most of the kids we watch in pee wee, middle school & high school will never play in a giant college stadium or sign an NFL contract. That’s not a failure. That’s just the math.
The beauty is that the game still does its job.
It teaches them how to get up when they fall, how to handle disappointment, how to respect a coach, how to work with teammates they may not even like, how to show up when people are counting on them.
That matters more than any scoreboard.



Here on Journeys With Jani, I talk a lot about travel & experiences, but this is a big one too. Football weekends in the South are their own kind of journey. Stadiums become landmarks. Tailgates become traditions. Road trips to away games turn into some of the best memories families have.
So whether you’re yelling for Bama or Georgia or Notre Dame on Saturday, riding hard for the Steelers on Sunday, or just showing up at a little pee wee field with a folding chair & a loud momma mouth, you’re part of something bigger.
Football here isn’t just a sport. It’s a language. It’s how we love on our people.
Now grab your jersey, pour your drink of choice & get ready.
Because in the South, when it’s football weekend, everything else can wait.
ROLL TIDE!
XOXO, Jani






























