God said let there be light, and it was good.

Ben Franklin said let’s fly a kite. Urban legend tells us it contributed heavily to the process of harnessing electricity, and that wasn’t all bad.

Thomas Edison patented the light bulb, and those of us who enjoy writing columns when the inspiration strikes at midnight would agree that it was a half-decent idea.

Buzz Bissinger wrote a novel and assigned it the broken English title, “Friday Night Lights.” Over the course of two decades, it has spawned a motion picture, a television series and arguably a high school football renaissance.

Schools that never previously played football raised the necessary funds and added it to their extra-curriculum. Programs that went dormant three or four recessions ago emerged from the cobwebs.

Television stations discovered that the sport existed and made the transition from minimal coverage and a rolling scoreboard to devoting two-thirds of the 11 o’clock news to it.

Good things, all.

So how did that collection of great minds across the miles and over multiple millennia also unwittingly destroy one of the great traditions of high school football?

By virtually removing an entire column from the September and October calendar, that’s how.

Go ahead: Find a tempting Saturday high school match-up within a one-hour radius of your driveway.

It’s a tougher task than ever, because with few exceptions, everybody is lacing up the pads on Friday evening.

Maranacook christened its lights two years ago. Dirigo and Poland added them this year.

Fourteen high schools play varsity football in the Sun Journal coverage area. Only three remain bulb free.

Call me crazy, but all the clear cutting and other landscaping at Oak Hill and Lisbon are cause for concern that they might be the next schools to embrace artificial light.

Knowing all the money that Telstar raised in order to resurrect its program, it wouldn’t shock me if the Rebels tapped those sources one more time with the expressed purpose of joining the Friday night phenomenon.

Not that it’s a factor in the decision or anything, but notice that the latest schools on this bandwagon are Class C programs.

In the past, their players might not have basked in the multimedia attention that chased the likes of Lewiston, Edward Little, Leavitt or Mountain Valley. But they had their niche: Playing the next day.

Instead, parents were hell bent on giving their kids that alleged Friday night exposure. Boosters were certain that having lights would triple or quadruple the gate, assuming that hunting, raking leaves, picking apples and other autumn activities kept away would-be fans on Saturday.

Ask the folks at Dirigo how that’s working out. Ask the ticket takers or athletic directors who counted the beans when Jay and Livermore Falls used to play home games on the same night how it worked out.

Mountain Valley and Dirigo, schools sharing a superintendent, heading toward a rumored merger and separated by about six miles on Route 2, each played at home on Sept. 1 and 29. They’ll do the same thing Friday night when the Falcons host Greely and the Cougars welcome Maranacook.

We’re talking about a limited market of high school sports enthusiasts. One or two hundred of them would have attended both games in any previous year.

Now they’re forced to pick one, and with all due respect to my Dirigo friends, it isn’t going to be the game at Harlow Park.

The Cougars have their lights, but they also have a crowd that is dominated by immediate family, and that’s a shame.

For all the drama and mystique that suddenly surround Friday night football, I’ve always loved Saturday just as much.

Especially in October, the crispness of the air is dead, solid perfect. The sun glistening off the rainbow of foliage provides a stunning backdrop.

I’m taking mental pictures while I can, because I don’t expect to have the privilege of covering 1:30 p.m. kickoffs much longer.

And that will be a dark day, indeed.

— Kalle Oakes is a staff columnist who finally stopped sleeping with a night light, unless all-night ESPN counts.