THORNDALE, Texas — A Friday night football game in Thorndale doesn’t start until Bubba Grimm says so.

The superfan stands at the corner of the end zone, strategically stationed between the bleachers and Thorndale’s fieldhouse. When he sees the door open and the Bulldogs begin to spill out, he points up at the PA announcer and School Board President David A. Hall, a signal to start his introductions. Then, he throws his arms up at his sides to get the crowd on its feet. Once the applause has reached its crescendo, he cues the band’s fight song. Finally, he picks up his Thorndale flag and waves it frantically, a lightning rod in a perfect storm.

By the time Thorndale’s football team takes the field, the cheerleader chants collide with the drum line that beats as fast as the players’ hearts as they sprint through the tunnel. This is the idyllic symphony of Class 2A football in Texas, and Bubba is the conductor. In these precious moments before kickoff, Friday night is at his fingertips. And while it may be an exaggeration to say that all the different groups at the game move on his command, he is the embodiment of what makes this community, and the atmosphere they create, so unique.

Bubba Grimm is a 49-year-old man with Down syndrome who has dedicated his entire life to supporting Thorndale High School athletics. The Bulldogs won back-to-back football state championships in 1994 and 1995 when he was in high school, playing cymbals in the school band. Around that time, he coined his signature phrase, ‘All the way,’ meaning Thorndale’s going to go all the way to state. But it could also describe how Bubba knows only one way to root for his Bulldogs… all the way.

His room is a museum of Thorndale memorabilia. Each season, the Bulldogs have a different team shirt. Bubba collects all of them – football, basketball, baseball and softball – and hangs them on his walls. Each shirt must have the season’s year on it. Bubba is obsessed with numbers. Thorndale head coach John Kovar gifted Bubba a lifetime sideline pass, the only one in the town. But Bubba wants a new one every year that specifies its 2024, 2025, or 2026 to hang on his wall. Each group holds a special place in his heart.

The majority of Thorndale’s 1,400 residents have lived here their entire lives. Kovar was in the grade above Bubba at Thorndale High School, and assistant coach Lance Betak was a state champion in tennis for the Bulldogs. Bubba’s consistency has led to his celebrity. He’s been gifted 25 customized hats by the parents of different athletes. Sometimes, three different cars stop by his house to offer him a ride to the game.

Bubba even has the ear of the coaches and administrators, a power he uses to campaign for ‘send-offs’ in which the town lines up along I-79 to cheer on the playoff teams as they head to their games. Of course, these send-offs support the kids first and foremost. But Bubba also gets to ride on the back of the town’s firetruck during them. That’s his Super Bowl.

Bubba isn’t a hard man to find. If he’s not at a Thorndale game or on the back of a firetruck, he’s at Schroeder’s Place, the town’s burger joint. Bubba’s grandparents started this restaurant a month after they got married 78 years ago. His mother, Juliane Schroeder Grimm, took it over after her father died in 2010. Growing up, she never thought this restaurant would become her life’s work. She started in the banking industry out of college, but came back home to work as a waitress for her father once her mother became elderly. Her children, Bubba and Cassie, grew up in this bar and grill. Their high chair is still in the left corner of the bar, and Bubba has swept the floors since he was five.

It's the type of restaurant where Julaine knows which customers come in on which days, referring to this patron as part of her “Tuesday crew.” Wednesday night is domino night, where everyone plays ‘42’ on the outdoor patio. But Friday night is reserved for football. Schroeder’s has hosted plenty of pregame team meals. The walls are full of Bubba’s handmade signs.

“My husband passed away seven years ago. I want to tell you, this is a saving thing for me,” Julaine said. “Because it gives me and my kids something to do out of the house, to work and be around people. I never thought it would be, but I realize now this is meant to be.”

Bubba does his fair share of work for the family business. He puts the beer on ice, lays out all the chips on the shelf and takes out the trash. But his favorite task is walking around the tables giving hugs, hanging out and talking football.

“That’s why everyone gravitates out here,” Hall, the School Board President, said. “Whether it’s pregame, postgame, before or after the season, this is Thorndale Central when it comes to sports.”

And Bubba is its historian. His secret talent is remembering everyone’s number, dating back to when he was in high school. I ask him what Coach Kovar’s number was when they were in school together. Bubba flashes a one. I joke that I don’t have a way to check his answer, but he answered so quickly and confidently that I believe him. Bubba gets up from the table and grabs the 1994 Thorndale High School Yearbook. We flip to the football team’s page together. Sure enough, there is a stern-faced Kovar in No. 1.

“He doesn’t forget anything,” Julaine said.

This program, and these kids, are so important to him. But his presence is equally important to these generations of kids, which is why graduates from 30 years ago, like Kovar, take the time to give him lifetime passes. Frankly, people like Bubba are why they’ve never left this town. They want their kids to feel the same support they did, and only a small community can provide it on this large a scale.

“It’s 2025 now, and we’re hanging onto the small town camaraderie as long as we can,” Hall said.

Or, as some would say, all the way.