Sometimes it's a good thing to toss and turn in your sleep.

You keep picturing those exuberant kids—football players—running off the field after the game as fast as they did during it.

Running into a sea of white.

Their friends and classmates and confidants.

You fear the bleachers may crumble. Former Georgia Bulldog announcer Larry Munson's words come to mind:

"Man, is there going to be some property destroyed tonight."

You hope not, actually. And your attempts to get this on film were a miserable failure.

It's okay, though.

Because when you see something like this, you don't really want to be behind anything.

Instead, you want to go back 40 or so years and have all that energy, all that Homecoming, all those agendas crowding into those little heads—and you want to just haul butt and jump right in there with them.

To be clear, putting on a Homecoming week requires a village, as does putting on a football game.

"It's a great day NOT to be the athletic director!"

You told Tony Watkins that earlier, right before you literally bowed to him.

Looking at yesterday—when 1,500 or so crammed into one gym—it was quite a scene.

Cheerleaders flew all over the place. You were thankful there was a roof up there to hem them all in.

Cute scenes, too.

The group that sang the national anthem.

Football players. Cheerleaders. Cross-country runners. Drum liners. Mathletes.

There were maybe 10 or 15 of them.

It was reverent in your eyes, not just because it was our nation's song, but because of that group you'll probably never see hanging out together at Hearth or Waffle House.

Out there in two rows.

Singing.

On key or off.

Who cares?

This is pretty cool.

And school itself was a jail yesterday for those football boys.

"Let's go!"

That was mostly what you heard, while knowing to get out of their way as their adrenaline reached you about 20 yards before they did.

And you love happy endings.

Our Homecomings of the past have been wonderful, though the football result didn't always put the exclamation point on the whole thing.

Yesterday, however, it did.

And it's after midnight now. Maybe 1 or 2 in the morning.

You really want to sleep.

But you have visions of flying cheerleaders and football players mosh-pitting themselves into a sea of white.

So many smiles out there.

More teeth showing than a dentist will see in a lifetime.

Anyway, props to everyone—and that's a lot of people—who put all this on.

And to think—

there's still a dance to come later.

With that thought, you fall asleep.

Sometimes you have to.

—Dunn