You don’t need me to tell you that this is one of the most bittersweet times of the year.

We wear shorts and t-shirts to bask in the most glorious days of the calendar today, knowing that in just a few weeks we’ll be wearing long johns and gloves. We exalt in shipping our kids back to school, then realize that all of their practices and games will leave us eating microwaved Chef Boyardee for the next three months. We dream of watching the Patriots on a brand new 42-inch TV, knowing that in a couple of weeks our wives will tell us filling the oil tank blew out the high-def budget.

These are the realities of late summer and the oncoming autumn. And no other event reflects this time of year better than high school football, especially high school football in Maine.

There are times where there is no place I’d rather spend a weekend than a high school football sideline. And then there are times where I wonder why I didn’t go into real estate.

High school football being the unique experience that it is, it often doesn’t take long for these conflicting emotions to flare up.

Such as:

When I’m watching a running back make a long, spectacular run for a touchdown, then realizing I had forgotten to write down what yard line they were on to start the play …

When I arrive early to get a great parking spot, then find my car blocked in after the game is over …

When I’m standing on the sideline amongst players celebrating a big play, then realizing one of the players’ spaghetti dinner didn’t agree with him …

When I’m watching Jay and Livermore Falls play out one of the best rivalries in the state at Taglienti or Griffin field, then wonder how much longer there will be a rivalry …

When I enjoy the spectacular western Maine foliage en route to a Saturday afternoon game in Fryeburg, then remember when the traffic on Route 302 is backed up to West Bridgton that the fair is underway …

When I’m reliving my glory days while covering a game at my alma mater, Lake Region, then watch the Lakers get crushed by some Western Maine Conference school that wasn’t even playing football six years ago …

When I’m watching the parade of homecoming floats at halftime at Leavitt and wondering why the underclassmen always do a better job than the seniors …

When I drink two cups of coffee to warm up before a game at Mt. Blue, then realize at halftime there’s a really long line at the Port-A-Potty and it’s a really, really long walk to the school restrooms …

When I see throngs of fans come out in small towns like Rumford, Fairfield and Skowhegan to get behind their team, then wonder what it would be like if Lewiston and Auburn showed the same kind of support …

When I’m contemplating how a 75-degree September afternoon in Lisbon Falls can feel like a 95-degree July afternoon in Florida …

When players ask me how I could pick them to lose in our weekly predictions, and I reply by quoting Principal Skinner, “Prove me wrong, children. Prove me wrong” …

When I’m on the sideline listening to Jim Aylward make brutally honest observations about his own team and the opposition (Ozzie Guillen is boring by comparison), then he tells me it’s all off the record.

These are the constants of every high school football season for me. And, believe it or not, I always look forward to them. It helps that the stuff that happens on the field is always unpredictable. That’s what keeps me and a lot of other fans coming back for more.

There are a number of things that will make this particular season unique, such as wondering how many ways Mountain Valley’s Justin Staires will score a touchdown or how many yards Lewiston’s Wesley Myers has actually run when the stat sheet shows he’s bobbed-and-weaved his way for 100 yards.

Over the next few, too few, weeks, we’ll see some of the region’s most promising quarterbacks, such as EL’s Cody Goddard, Austin Clark of Jay, Jordan Conant of Winthrop and Dirigo’s Nic Crutchfield, emerge as top-flight signal-callers. We’ll watch new eras begin to unfold under new coaches in South Paris, Fryeburg and Poland. We’ll finally experience what Friday nights in Winthrop can be like again.

We’ll watch offensive lines start the season looking like walruses trying to line dance and finish the season resembling a herd of rhinos charging through the Serengeti. We’ll see a Cinderella team play in front of about 100 fans in Week 1 and 1,000 fans in Week 8.

We’ll see burly Livermore Falls linemen in full uniform marching with the band at halftime. We’ll see Lisbon players decked out in black head-to-toe outlast a less-conditioned opponent under the blazing Saturday afternoon sun.

We’ll see crunching hits and, let us hope, watch those who got crunched jump right back up and jog back to the huddle. We’ll watch players try to destroy each other and coaches try to outsmart each other, then shake hands after their done.

In November, we’ll salute all of these young men for giving us nearly three full months of unparalleled entertainment. Then we’ll stand at Fitzpatrick Stadium in mid-November and wonder how it all went by so fast.