Jonathan Jimenez spun to his left, then cut back to his right, and in that moment he was not mourning.⁠ ⁠ Not consciously, anyway.⁠ ⁠ As he pumped his legs, he did not think of his best friend, Chance Luevanos. Picking up speed across the field, he did not think of Luevanos’ little brother Jayce, the adorable 10-year-old boy who’d dressed up as Spiderman for Halloween and made his grandparents a pot of coffee every morning.⁠ ⁠ When Jimenez made one last turn and bolted down the sideline, he heard the crowd at the Honey Bowl roar, louder and louder, but as he ran he did not consider what so many of those people had lost.⁠ ⁠ Nor did he contemplate the gift he was giving them.⁠ ⁠ “I didn’t really think of anything,” Jimenez said. “I was just running.”⁠ ⁠ That simplicity, perhaps, is what brought a town to its feet. About 5,000 fans packed the Honey Bowl on Friday night, not just to watch Uvalde High School’s first home football game since 21 lives were lost in the mass shooting at Robb Elementary, but to be together, and to celebrate instead of grieve.⁠ ⁠ To cheer instead of cry.⁠ ⁠ To care about something trivial, and to let it feel like the most important thing in the world. ⁠ ⁠ Continue reading Mike Finger's sports column — and view more photos by staff photographers Billy Calzada and Sam Owens — using the link in our bio.