SECOND STRING:It’s about the lights, and what you do under them

“It is essential to understand that battles are primarily won in the hearts of young men.”

— Vince Lombardi

I’ve seen them with their attention lacking, their focus wandering, their hope unfounded and their expectations unknown.

They’ve lost even before the kickoff.

I’ve seen them emerge with their heads hanging, their faces indifferent, their eyes soulless and their hearts absent.

They’ve lost with a half of football left to play.

Harsh as it may sound, you find those kids fitting all those descriptions a bit too easy to find. Fact is, they know who they are and so do their coaches.

They are kids who are merely taking up space on a sideline, hidden under a helmet and shoulder pads, rather than those who leave it all out their under the lights. They’re the ones who give up before the game’s over, they’re the one’s preparing to lose when they see who their opponent is.

Nobody really wants to be the bad guy, the one who says this team and that team is showing up to play every week, but they really aren’t showing up.

It’s not about good or bad, winning or losing — although it’s frightening how winners seem to always come to play and never quit.

No, it’s about football and being a football player.

There’s a difference between a kid who puts on a jersey and a football player.

Frankly, I think there should be a law that says you need to be identified as one or the other.

It has nothing to do with how much playing time you get or how many wins and losses your team has.

It has to do with whether or not you come to play.

It has to do with how you identify football.

Those who don jerseys just so they can call themselves football players and put on that jersey don’t identify it correctly. They’re the ones whose games are lost before they’ve even started. They’re just going through the motions, collecting a letter and embarrassing a sport.

A football player on the other hand, knows what it’s all about.

Football is a lonely kicker, an overlooked offensive lineman, a cocky wide receiver, a rampaging running back, a hard-hitting safety, a hardnose linebacker, a quarterback who’ll lead you anywhere if you’re willing to follow and a gruff coach with a scowl on his face and love in his heart.

It’s being played on Thursdays and Fridays and Saturdays across this nation every fall and winter. It connects those who play it, coach it and watch it.

It’s a sport in which hustle and character is every bit as important as talent.

It’s pain. Inflicting it and playing with it.

It’s disgusting. It’s stank lockers and snot bubbles, sweat-stained undershirts, bloody knuckles, bumps and bruises.

It’s beautiful. It’s cheerleaders, championships, a perfect pass and the ambiance of a Friday night under the lights that no word can rightly describe.

It’s winless campaigns, undefeated seasons and a camaraderie forged no matter what the win-loss column reads that will remain in your heart forever.

It’s a huddle. And then it’s single back, spread, trips right,I-formations, pro sets, double wings, shotguns, 3-4s, 4-3s, 4-4s, nickels, dimes and prevents if you’re that stupid to use them.

It’s a decleater, a pancake block and a blindside hit.

It’s a sport that everyone watches. Your mom doesn’t understand it and neither does mine, but they both showed up for our games. So did all the math, history, science and English teachers.

It’s 100 yards and 48 minutes of possibilities ... scholarships, titles, triumphs, tribulations, adjulation, injury, fame and fortune may or may not be ahead.

It’s youth. My youth and yours, and it’s just as fleeting as the game, the seasons and your playing days.

It’s all these things and a wealth more.

For me, it’s an inspiration to write, my closest friends, the best of times and the greatest memories — the wins, the losses, the practices, the parties and everything in between.

It’s football. It’s a brutal event, that’s why it’s only once a week.

It’s nothing short of magnificence every night under the lights.

Remember that.

Remember that it can be all these things if you show up to play, to be a football player. Your eyes nor your actions can lie about what the meaning of that number etched across your back is to you.

Greatness, no matter how brief, stays with you forever. Those memories of the best of times remain yours for an eternity — they’re more precious than any currency.

Go out and make those memories.

And, for as long as you play, never embarrass this sport — for all the good it will do you, football deserves at least that much.

That’s just the way I see it, playing second string.

Second String appears regularly on Thursdays. Grant Gordon can be reached at grant.gordon@latimes.com.