I'M A sportswriter, the high school sports coordinator for the Houston Chronicle — a big deal in a state where passion for high school football runs high.

This year, Texas' state high school football finals return to Houston for the first time since 2008. So during the season, each week, the Chronicle has highlighted a different champion that won a title in Houston. The story this week was about the 1991 Killeen Kangaroos, who beat Dulles 14-10 at the Astrodome for the Class 5A Division I state title.

It felt personal: I remember how much the town needed that win.

IT WAS Jan. 17, 1991. We sat in the bleachers inside the gym. There wasn't a game.

My parents, my sisters, myself and hundreds just like us were waiting. At any moment, we would watch our dad and his fellow soldiers line up in formation, say their goodbyes and board buses headed for the airfield.

For many of us, if it wasn't a father or mother, it was a guardian, uncle, friend or loved one. Everyone knew someone involved in the Gulf War, which shifted from Operation Desert Shield, the operation of deploying troops and defense to Saudi Arabia, to Operation Desert Storm, the combat phase against Iraq's invasion of Kuwait, the night my dad left.

I was nine.

My dad, SFC Angel Verdejo, was in air defense with the 1st Calvary Division. But to me at that age, there wasn't much difference between miles away from immediate danger firing ground-to-air missiles and being on the front lines.

That was just how things were in Killeen — a town attached at the hip to Fort Hood, one of the largest military bases on the planet. Thousands of soldiers were gone. The town's businesses, which depend on the military, suffered. And families counted down the days until loved ones could return home.

AMAZINGLY, THE year got harder. On October 16, 1991, a man named George Hennard, Jr., crashed his pickup truck into Killeen's Luby's. It was lunchtime, crowded. He began to shoot. People hid anywhere they could.

In the end, 24 people were dead, including Hennard, and 27 wounded.

My friends and I were in school. We didn't know what had happened until later.

We'd been worried about our loved ones in Iraq. And now, we found out, Killeen wasn't safe either.

THE KILLEEN Kangaroos had missed the playoffs in 1990, and nearly missed them again in 1991. But after the Luby's shooting, each week was magical.

Beating Austin Johnston on penetrations. Holding off Jersey Village by one point and both Tyler Lee and San Angelo Central by four.

My sister, as part of the band, traveled to Houston for the finals. I stayed home, at our house on Starlight Drive, glued to the TV broadcast of game. (Somewhere, my parents still have the VHS recording.)

Dulles had a stout run game and beat perennial powerhouse Converse Judson in the semifinals. The game was a matchup between the Vikings' power against Killeen's speed.

The biggest series was the defensive stand Killeen made late, highlighted by Dion Marion sacking the Dulles quarterback. Marion was the star running back, but like Billy Spiller and Charles West, played defense because it was best for the team.

The most memorable play was the 55-yard pass from quarterback Spiller to receiver West in double coverage. It was a trick play, one the newspaper broke down later: It started with one toss then another to a receiver, and finally back in the hands of Spiller, who threw downfield to the endzone.

Dulles had the play defended well. Thinking back, Spiller didn't make the best decision. But West was the go-to receiver, and he came down with it.

At the house on Starlight Drive, we went wild.

That night, we went to the school and waited at the field house. When those two charter buses rolled in, the place went nuts.

The Roos had given us something. They gave us a reason to smile, cheer and laugh. A reason to think everything was going to be okay.

AFTER I finished writing the Chronicle story, I sent a text to West, now a football coach here in Houston, thanking him for his help with it.

"It still gives me chills," he texted back.

Me too.

Angel Verdejo, Jr., is the Chronicle's high school sports coordinator — and a Killeen High graduate, class of 1999.

Bookmark Gray Matters. It has a stout run game.

