The final game of any football season is ripe with scrutiny, emotions, and fans, but when it's crosstown rivals, add score settling to the mix, and the atmosphere is rippling with anticipation. The St. Mark’s Lions varsity team took to the field on a balmy Halloween night. Among the squad of athletes clad in blue and gold were two Preston Hollow residents—the brothers Dickson: David, newly 17, and Donnell, 15. Last year, Donnell missed his entire freshman season due to an injury. Currently a sophomore on the junior varsity team, he played exactly one varsity game. Still, as is long-standing tradition, all upperclassmen football players suit up and stand together on the sidelines on Friday nights.

At the beginning of the second quarter, co-captain and the starting running back, David, sprinted up the field with the ball tucked safely in his arms. Four synchronized defenders pounced, and David collapsed onto the turf, grabbing at his shoulder. Coach Flaherty called on Donnell. It was not entirely unprecedented to call on a player for one play to allow another player, in this case Donnell’s brother, to catch his breath and a gulp of water. Donnell assumed it was standard operating procedure until he remained on the field for an entire drive. Then he heard the injured player’s diagnosis: dislocated shoulder; RB1 unable to return to the game. Tears of frustration and disappointment streamed down David’s face. The team was up by a narrow lead, but was now undermanned after losing their starting running back. Lions fans’ hopes of a win dwindled.

RB2, Donnell, stepped into his second official varsity game to replace his brother. His eyes scanned across the line of scrimmage. He felt tense, a bit out of his depth for a moment. Sensing his nerves, Coach Flaherty instructed David to encourage Donnell. So big brother approached little brother, sharing insights gleaned from the sidelines; David doled out warnings and instructions, all in a shorthand unmistakably shaped by kinship. This familiar voice and elder brother’s trust anchored him. Any uncertainty in Donnell’s mind was replaced with conviction. He took to the field again, fueled by the fumes of playing for his teammates, especially his brother, who sat injured on the sideline. The battle became personal.

The Lions quarterback connected with his running back again and again for 76 yards of completion. Yet the Lions lost their narrow lead. Late fourth quarter, the quarterback launched the ball. Donnell snatched it from the air and darted upfield 20 yards. Unflinching and aided by a few pivotal blocks from his teammates, Donnell found the endzone. The final scoreboard read: 21-14, Lions. RB2 logged 22 carries for 123 total yards, plus the game-clinching touchdown. In the ultimate Halloween trick, an unfortunate injury led to an unexpected cameo, allowing a younger brother to showcase his receiving prowess on the biggest play of the biggest game. David was first in line to celebrate Donnell. It felt like a coronation.

When you evaluate this game, the story runs deeper than two high-performing running backs working in tandem to hand their rivals a defeat. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour tale of pluck, camaraderie, relentlessness, and mentorship. To hear their account, seated shoulder to shoulder, finishing each other’s sentences, a shared pride pulsates between the boys. They are at once brimming with confidence and modesty, deflecting praise and crediting the other. Donnell respects his older brother’s innate leadership abilities in the locker room, on the playing field, and at home. “It’s not just sports; he gives me advice about life and academics too.” David admires his little brother’s selflessness and humor. Apparently, Donnell has a knack for injecting levity into any heavy moment. “Donnell celebrates every win of mine, even when he doesn’t get much playing time because of me. He is never envious. I appreciate that.”

You don’t get a sense of typical sibling rivalry as much as sibling revelry. The secret? An interconnectedness and work ethic are bound in their DNA. Their parents, immigrants from Ghana, set the achievement bar on the top shelf. Dad is a spine surgeon who never misses a game, and Mom devotes herself to shaping three young boys into gentlemen and scholars. Soon, the past, present, and future will collide on the football field as the youngest brother, Douglas, only 11 years old, already has quite the nose for the gridiron. These home-grown brothers/athletes embody the best of modern masculinity: authentic, bright, motivated, sincere, self-aware, polite, and mindful of their roots. Well-coached, they are dogged and nervy in a steady pursuit of perfection. While this particular game is singular and plays like a greatest hits list—an instant classic—long after the applause and cheers subside, and the boys retire their worn cleats, football will have instilled worthy, lifelong lessons in these brothers. For the Dicksons, it looks like the good guys wear pink.