A TIME CAPSULE OF FRIDAY NIGHTS

by Jason Kendall of kendallprojects Media & Design

Part I: What the Game Was, and What It’s Becoming

There was a time when high school football did not need to explain itself. It did not need branding, promotion, or digital amplification to justify its importance. It simply existed as a cornerstone of community life, rooted in tradition and sustained by the people who showed up every Friday night not because they were told to, but because it was part of who they were. The game belonged to the players, the coaches, the families, and the neighborhoods that surrounded the field. It was not driven by attention, but by connection. It was not measured in views or shares, but in effort, sacrifice, and pride. That version of the game still exists in fragments, but it is no longer the full picture. Something has shifted, and the change has been gradual enough to feel almost invisible, yet powerful enough to reshape the experience entirely.

Today, high school football lives in a different world, one where exposure can carry as much weight as execution and perception can sometimes outpace development. The rise of digital platforms has created opportunities for athletes to be seen in ways that were once unimaginable, but it has also introduced a new layer of pressure that programs must navigate without always having the resources to adapt. The emphasis on highlight culture has, in many cases, replaced the appreciation for the unseen work that actually defines a player. A single clip can travel further than an entire season’s worth of discipline, and for programs that are not already positioned within the spotlight, this new reality can create a widening gap between those who are recognized and those who are overlooked.

It is within this evolving landscape that the story of Lower Richland begins to take on a deeper meaning. The program does not present itself as a finished product or a polished contender built on hype. Instead, it exists in the space where work is still being done, where identity is still being formed, and where progress is measured in ways that do not always translate to immediate recognition. This is precisely why UNDERESTIMATED was conceived—not simply to document a season, but to capture a moment in the life of the game itself, a moment where the values that once defined high school football are being tested against a rapidly changing environment.

The early days of summer workouts, as seen in Episode I, COMPETE, offer a clear window into that tension. There is nothing glamorous about these sessions, and that is exactly the point. The weight room becomes a proving ground where effort cannot be faked and consistency cannot be substituted. Players are pushed beyond comfort, not for the sake of spectacle, but because the standard demands it. Coach Marlin Taylor’s message is not complicated, yet it carries significant weight in a time where simplicity has become rare. He challenges his players to compete in everything they do, not just when the lights are on, but when no one is watching. That philosophy stands in quiet contrast to a culture that often rewards visibility over substance.

What becomes evident in these moments is that Lower Richland is not trying to chase the game as it is changing, but rather to anchor itself in what has always mattered. The players are not working for attention; they are working for each other. They are building something that cannot be captured in a highlight reel, something that requires time, trust, and shared experience. This is not to suggest that the program is disconnected from the realities of modern football, but rather that it is choosing to respond to those realities in a way that prioritizes development over distraction.

The broader changes within high school football extend beyond individual programs and into the structure of the sport itself. Shifting classifications and evolving competitive landscapes have forced teams to adapt to new challenges with little warning and even fewer resources. For a program like Lower Richland, these changes are not theoretical; they are lived experiences that shape every aspect of preparation. Competing against different opponents, adjusting to new expectations, and maintaining consistency in the face of constant movement requires a level of resilience that cannot be manufactured overnight. It must be built, piece by piece, through repetition and accountability.

Episode II, FAMILY, expands this understanding by revealing the deeper foundation that supports the program. If the modern game has leaned toward individual recognition, Lower Richland responds by strengthening its collective identity. The concept of family is not presented as a slogan, but as a lived reality that connects players, coaches, and community members across time. The Shane Beamer 7-on-7 tournament provides an opportunity to measure progress against external competition, but what stands out is not just performance; it is the way the team operates as a unit. Communication, encouragement, and accountability become visible in the small moments between plays, reinforcing the idea that success is shared rather than isolated.

When the team returns home for the Diamond Hornet 7-on-7, the significance of that unity becomes even more apparent. The field is no longer just a place of competition; it is a representation of history, pride, and responsibility. Players speak about what it means to wear the uniform, not in terms of personal achievement, but as part of a larger legacy that extends beyond their individual careers. Coaches, many of whom have spent years guiding these athletes, embody a continuity that is increasingly rare in a landscape defined by movement and change. Their presence reinforces the idea that development is not a short-term process, but a long-term investment in both character and performance.

This emphasis on continuity and care extends beyond football itself, as seen in the program’s commitment to preparing players for life beyond the field. The inclusion of financial literacy education reflects an understanding that the modern athlete must navigate a world that is more complex than ever before. Opportunities may be expanding, but so are the responsibilities that come with them. By addressing these realities directly, Lower Richland positions itself not just as a football program, but as a place where young men are equipped to handle whatever comes next.

All of these elements contribute to a larger realization that defines the purpose of UNDERESTIMATED. The series is not simply documenting a team; it is preserving a version of the game that is in the process of evolving. It recognizes that change is inevitable, but it also asks what should remain constant in the midst of that change. By capturing the daily work, the relationships, and the values that underpin the program, the series creates a record of what high school football looks like at this moment in time, not as an abstract concept, but as a lived experience.

In doing so, UNDERESTIMATED becomes more than a documentary. It becomes a time capsule, holding onto the details that might otherwise be lost as the game continues to transform. It tells the story of what the game was, what it is becoming, and what it still has the potential to be if the core principles that have always defined it are not forgotten.

The question is not whether high school football will continue to change, but whether the essence of what made it meaningful can endure alongside that change. Lower Richland’s journey offers one possible answer, grounded not in nostalgia, but in a commitment to doing things the right way, even when the world around them is moving in a different direction.